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Radically warm
How cold have we become that some call a genuine smile and human touch oddly warm? How guarded have we become that speaking openly about your struggles sounds brave? We talk about social construct as a foreign occurrence, when in reality, it happens right before our eyes…every day. A conditioned mind programmed to act accordingly and accept only what’s in trend — that’s what we became. We applaud vulnerability like it’s a performance, yet tremble at the thought of being truly seen. We crave connection like oxygen, but ration it like we’re facing famine, afraid someone might take more than they deserve. Or worse, discover our lack of it. When…
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Haunting Sunday
Sunday blues this early morning, I hold my chest and close my eyes, wish I could escape from this war where dreams fade and silence lies The tea cools, the clock keeps tickingits hands like ghosts that never rest, In this hollow space I find myself slipping into a world that feels half-possessed The walls feel closer, the air thinner, a quiet ache I can’t ignore for all the places I’ve never been and all the things I can’t restore So here I linger, lost and fading between the should-have-beens and might, a tender heart forever waiting for Sunday’s dawn to give me light.
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Tired, truly
Tired, truly. Of words that fall out reckless from careless tongues; half-formed, half-thought, like they were never meant to mean anything at all. How can’t they see or understand pain unless it’s theirs to claim? How can their eyes never learn to read truth unless it flatters them? Tired, truly. This thing once called common sense now feels rarer than peace, rarer than listening. This blindness to another’s ache. How strange. Tired, truly. Of being weighed, measured, and still found suspicious for just existing without apology, for being ambiguous. Tired, truly. Of being the quiet storm holding the walls up when others crumble. The twenty-four-seven adult in every room; steady,…
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Hooded Heartless Complying Thugs: A Poem
I’m broken by the sound of weeping mothers as they’re dragged down by yet another hooded heartless complying thug dehumanizing people for a thousand bucks I don’t want the drums of war to sound, no more the battle, no more the bound of men and women torn apart, their hopes reduced to aching hearts Don’t want to hear the cries of children lost in pain as their lives are swept away like torrential rain I don’t want the skies filled with smoke and our ancient histories buried, our ties broke How dare I not want the world to burn? A world that still has so much left to learn I…
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I have nothing left in me
I have nothing left in me But I walk the long way home to seize the day ignore the news to fly away from the chaos unfolding right before me, don’t wanna feel the burning tears of the marginalized groups seeking peace I have nothing left in me But my lips don’t quiver when I speak, the truth is facts no matter who, what, or how many times twisted it may be, so I stand confident in my skin knowing our history won’t tear me apart for doing the right thing I have nothing left in me But even on pins and needles my soul yearns for a plot twist,…
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United we’ll stand
Sitting on my doubts and questions in the turbulence of a time so uncertain, knowing that we collectively have the courage to intervene but oh, the audacity, they scream, cause we want basic needs met instead of the meme we now have to fight after the White House turned Alt-right There’s always been political back-and-forth but diplomacy was counted for the rule of law was feared just like the god they feared and issues were resolved in spite of the smear Back then lines were drawn… to some point and the law was respected and citizens protested, immigrants trusted their rights people had the courage to be gay without threatened…
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Bloom and wither: tales of selective memory
The worst pain in my chest, my eyes couldn’t be more red. My hopes and dreams with you through that wide window went. I knew an ending thatI never saw coming. Somehow surprised by how carefully I wanted to protect you and how you carelessly broke me. “Come visit me,” read your text to a disguised name on your phone. How did you know in spring that by autumn we’d be done? A forgotten feeling that is… gosh, it’s been so long, but can’t forget how it hurt long after you were gone. The way you used me, then brought flowers to my tomb. And while my own tears dried,…
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Routine and familiarity
Seven corners, too many walls, battled windows, an old white door simple closets unknown history hide of long gone muted voices echoing the empty night The colors of the night match my soul cold like blue, dark like coal my heavy eyes the day unwind until I drift, oh, quiet mind Bedtime calls, ready to fall feeling safe in all my walls a soft reminder of the clarity one oddly finds in routine and familiarity
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The day I die
The day I die I hope it is timely. I hope it’s mild and sunny while I love the rain I hope it doesn’t rain when my loved ones lay me down to rest By the time I die I hope I’ve traveled as much as I once dreamed of when my heart pumped up blood By the time I die I hope I’ve paid all my dues if it means I won’t become a burden on anyone The day I die I hope my mom won’t see, a literal pain is the last thing I want to be The day I die I hope the silent haters won’t come…
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Gentle white flags: I’ve come far
I forget why I hated you Between the changing of seasons, the tears and the fair reasons you gave me to despise you I forget why I hated you I’ve admired the immense kindness of others while failing to acknowledge my own it takes courage, sense, a heart of gold to wave a white flag when you’re thrown stones Even amidst the war you started I forgot why I cut you off and the poems I’ve written seem not enough of a reminder of the rage I once felt in my struggle to break the spell No point in fighting what I can’t remember though I can’t help but wonder…
