I am the rain you need but pay no mind.
I am the air you breathe but don't see.
I am the person you talk to but walk through.
I am the hug you receive but never give.
I am the friend you never notice but is always there.
I am the one you need in order to survive.
I am the child I am.
I am the me I choose to be.
I am the invisible need.
I am
Like a book.
Quiet and calm,
Yet adventurous and spirited.
Words in black,
With white ones in between.
Mysterious and secretive,
While imaginative and wondering.
Open to find
The secrets I hide.
in all our solar system
this thin shell of weather
is all there is for us:
an aura of viability,
a halo of life,
its breezes our breath,
storms our cleansing.
it surrounds our ‘pale blue dot’
(as seen from Saturn,
so minute in the vast
vacuum of space)
not as an eggshell which cracks to birth,
but as a wisp of air without a second,
once violated, lost or poisoned
desolate like Mars
deadly like Venus,
and inquired of what lay ahead
and the latter replied, “There is naught but the nests
of the old human race, who are dead.”
So they rested awhile and they looked at the clouds
and the grass, and the birds in between.
Then the bird going east thought to wonder aloud
who the old human race could have been.
“They were builders, like ants, but they walked on two legs,”
said the one going west, “like a bird
and I’ve heard it from some that they didn’t lay eggs
but I find the suggestion absurd.”
“I don’t know how they died and I thoroughly doubt
there is anyone left who would know
and I cannot imagine a way to find out
how it was all those seasons ago.”
Then they chirped their goodbyes and the bird going east
It's a summer night
Fan whirring rhythmically
Neighbors being drunk
Loud
There's really no escaping the sound
Of an apartment
As it approaches midnight
The sound of rolling bedsheets
Or music turned up too loud
My brow thick with sweat
Eyes laced with migraine pain
The swish of branches by my window
It's all a part of the scene
Of an apartment at midnight
Where I sit and try to be content
With an empty watter bottle
The pull and drag
A perfect weight
Juxtaposed to rip back the progress
Forcing all the forward from the front lines
There is nothing more draining
Than the words built
On stone pedestals
Wiped clean of the moss
That gave them life
The sun dips below the horizon
And the sky goes to sleep
But the world is waking up
From the daylight lies
And daily blindness
Behind screens and screams
Come the voices of power
And the will of long dead heroes
Raindrop sweat conceals the words behind my breath
The road, being fixed by the numerous
Underpaid
Is not for me to walk on
So I go around
Around to push myself in
For another day of sitting
Alone in the shade
With the time to think, to contemplate the reasons why and
Wonder
Which I'm starting to find is nothing but a curse
A torture inflicted
So that I can think
The same thoughts as the hours go by
So that I can come home
To sleep off a weary morning
Helpless against the wind of time
The scars of reason smother me
Because what we wanted was the same
Though worlds apart-
The things that really disturb me,
When I think about it deeply
Is how similar two people can be
Without even wanting to
And how they can look at the same clouds,
Seeing different faces-
Our hands are sanitized by the bleaching sea salt
The open doors
The rumors shared on doves' wings
With hidden letters
From inks of clear intention
Mistakes left open to
Whiteout remembrance,
False senses of securities abound
Binding political allies,
Warping the olden village fences
With unions draped
In beach-clad memories
Which bleached hands
Don't easily forget
You don't have to open your flesh
To find love
Look for it elsewhere
In his eyes before he kisses you
In his smile after
In the sunrise shared
In the moonlight you dance beneath
His chin on your head
His face in your chest
Look for it in bed
As you disentangle yourselves in the morning
As you count his breaths at night
Don't mutilate yourself
Blood is not the same as love
It feels so at the time
But you know
How can you see through my mask?
The one I've spent my life building?
You see the real me, you can sense when something's wrong.
And something's always wrong.
Why is it you have chosen me?
A word of advice to you, brave soul-
Don't try to fix people.
They'll only leave you, and you'll realise you were the broken one.