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Pride: A Poem
When I think back to all I’ve had and how I blew it and the things they ruined, and how hard it can be to repair a feeling so fleeting but so filling, there’s almost always been this culprit and it’s impulsive and repulsive and most of all, destructive. Some people inherit it and some are lucky enough not to know it or admit it, that they fit in the description and definition of the egocentric. Pride it is called, and you’d be enthralled by the power it has on you and how it’d change your views of a potentially good relationship between you two or the new ones you…
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The Nerve (Excerpt)
Let me know when you’re done pretending that in your mind there was no plan that I was blindsided, kept tightly in the dark until it all made sense for your selfish little heart and my hips you no longer needed to climb. I’ll spare my pettiness, I say, but why should I? when I have the right to be an authoritarian about who and what makes me cry. You mouth that I don’t deserve it, while your actions say otherwise. The nerve! I screamed inside as your callousness amplified. Again and again, ’til the end of time, your character’s proven to be as feeble as humankind. I should’ve known…what…
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Life at Midnight
When the wind is breathless, the raindrops loud, and the trees swing from side to side; midnight The tender whisper of a loved one’s voice over a scary story at bedtime; midnight Through white curtains peek a speck of light, may be from a star, may be the tired street lamps; midnight A kiss feels softer against your skin and their touch, gentler on your thigh; midnight When thoughts are emotional and loud, begging to be unbound; midnight And the muse comes over and stays a while in spite of your heavy eyes; midnight Your silence, your joys, your sorrows, your moans; can all become homeless or find a home…
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How is a Story Born?
How is a story born? A story is born… When we do things we shouldn’t do. When you look at me the way you do. When he pays hush money for his sin. When the doctor calls about your skin. When you fall for me before her eyes. When despite the lies you have butterflies. When you quit your job and travel seas. When she’d die for you and you can’t see. When suddenly you have more mouths to feed. When friends get mad if you succeed. When your double life ends up on the front page. When everything you do seems to be an outrage. When they’re born rich…
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Misunderstood Sonnet
“Are you grieving?” “No,” I quizzically said. “You only talk about sad things.” How to tell her that I’m a requiem; an airless breath, a heartless ribcage, a misunderstood sonnet. I want to tell her about the times I’ve stared blank at the silver clouds up in the sky, never hearing a reply. So unable to express the feeling of not feeling. I felt so much that now I grew immune. Just emotionless. Am I grieving? Maybe I am. Hands forced up in the air by circumstances, while life points a riffle to my back. I’m detained. Can’t escape. Change your ways, they say, for a tree you ain’t. At…
