a poem for you (you know who you are):

when i dream, i think of you –

your fingers clicking on the keyboard, lines and lines of code plastered

on the screen of your computer

glinting sharpness, remnants

of whatever happened behind

i dream of your smile

a frown, sometimes, eyes distressed

tiny sparks, like candles in an empty sea and –

i keep this hope in my pockets, memories in old receipts

you are that train of thought, cutting too shortly

and yet,

i cant seem to forget

i hear you the most – in quiet nights

like silver burning closed windows

you sound like love

waves tearing rocks apart

as though they were my heart

and you were the sea

i see you again

in numbers and lines and see outs and see ins

numbers and practicality

and maybe that's what all i am

to you,

is it love?

your clothes smell like home

arms, sunshine that warms every golden smile.

yes, this is how she loves you

she loves you like the warmth you seek to find

loves you as passionate as the blue star

you see every night

burning the heart, leaving ashes that tingle like satisfaction

yes, that is how she loves you

but i love you

in rainy nights

torrents that scream what i want you to hear

droplets that shatter silence

a part of my heart

in every bead that sits on your windowsill

sometimes its her (mostly her)

but that's fine

because i can wait for those days

when its me (again)

maybe we're in wonderland – where clocks dont tick and seconds fade away

did the queen of hearts take your heart as well?

Oh, the cat! mad hatter,

teach me how to smile

even when they're together

let's rewind

some days its her, some days its me

and that's fine, really

it's an endless loop, you see

(a non terminating one, is that how you speak?)

of lines and lines and lines of the same thing

three words that sound too closely a lie

its an endless loop of sadness

and smiles with you

and for everything in the world

i wouldn't trade

a moment with you

while my heart rate is slowing down

and my breaths are becoming a constant string of lightness

there is someone out there wishing their reality

was just one big dream.

there are people who get stiff, perturbed slumber.

uneasy, woolly, stormy slumber.

i'm trying so hard but i can't even close my eyes slumber.

my eyes are going red but i don't want to fall into darkness slumber.

and then there's bleak, tired slumber.

dejectedly desperate despairing slumber.

i'm not okay and i'm going to sleep it off slumber.

i don't ever want to wake up again slumber.

but you know that warm, limpid slumber?

that everflowing abounding embracing slumber.

the everything is alright slumber.

i'm happy and that's all there is slumber.

i know that one day, you will get that slumber.

it'll feel like you've been sleeping your whole life,

but i'm asking you to awaken, and live like

you're on top of the world created by your subconscious

with the exception that your heart is pounding, and that this,

this is your reality.

heavy-lidded

small exhales through her lips

her knees are shaking

her soles are aching

bending, breaking

until

she is no longer "immune"

a light touch to her collarbone might make her evaporate

but she's fine

she's fine

(or so she says)

she's fine

she's fine

she doesn't need rest

a day wasted will only add to her pain

(if she even admits she's in pain)

she can't afford to pause for a moment and look within herself

she can't close her eyes

that'd be time thrown away

her fumbling feet carry her shivering shoulders

her shivering shoulders carry her heavy head

her heavy head carries her thundering thoughts

her thundering thoughts carry nothing

but the ominous fear of disappointment hanging over her tired body

her chest is hollow

there is nothing filling her up except numbers and dates

she knows about nutrition

she knows about metabolism

but she acts like looking at word documents will nourish her

can she extract water from these sheets of paper

to parch her exhausted mind?

can she swallow all these pen caps like they're pills

and somehow feel like she can last another day?

she's trying to pull stars out of her bloodstream

for her to hang on her walls

she's seeking warmth

she's looking for comfort

she's only human

she clutches the fleece

and closes her heavy-lidded eyes

her throat is closing up,

overwhelmed with suppressed pleas

she can barely breathe

small exhales through her lips

her knees are shaking

her soles are aching

bending, breaking

she's not immune.

We live, we eat, we sleep, 

We lie, we cry, we die.

We fake, we take, we break,

Yet no one asks us why.

When one loses,

The other wins.

When one dies,

The other lives.

Even Ouroboros understands,

That we need to lose and change,

Our life, our time, ourselves,

After all, life is a stage.

Filled with masks, a pesky entertainment,

and a lack of real people.

I'm losing myself in this disguise,

Each step a death march, lethal.

Faces blur and

foggy eyes

are a forecast

too well known,

when standing

here surrounded

by the people

I call home.

From you I’ve

learned so much

more than I ever did

in school,

and here, campfires

and poetry

became the newest

“cool”.

Together we walked

hand in hand,

and so together too

we fell -

rebuilt each other

piece by piece,

shook off the dust

of deeper wells.

I would tell you

that I’m grateful,

I would say

thank you if I

thought

that those words

could ever come

to know

this feeling of

distraught -

but in my time with

you and you with me,

I’ve learned

an awful lot

about how to say

goodbye,

and I now know it

to be tough.

And I can tell you with

all certainty, that

words are not enough.

Musky scent of madness permeated her soul

I felt coiled and ready to strike

yearning to dance on her wild side

mirrors reflecting broken cracks of insanity

her delusions dragged feet into my rooms

leaving chemistry’s residue footprints

I trod into her bones and extracted lunacy

lost in her darkness on frenzy’s edge.

Strength means something different to all of us, as many other words do.

Strength can be lifting that heavy table into your new apartment, or being able to hold that small compact mirror as you try to do your makeup in the car, or going through that workout you've been holding off for so long without dying.

But also, strength can be looking at your newborn child, or listening to your favorite song, or doing what you love. Strength can mean anything.

Strength is endurance. Strength is power. Strength is love.

Strength is looking at your life right now with uncertainty of what will happen tomorrow or within the next decade. And yet, you keep getting out of bed and going out there to face what the universe has headed for you.

We may not be fairy tale characters that go on daring adventures against evil queens and hideous trolls, but that doesn't mean that we don't go through our own versions of big bad wolves and enormous beanstalks. We have no assurance at all whether or not our happily ever afters exist, but we still face the day. Maybe we don't want to. Maybe we don't have a choice.

But yet, we're still here. Still breathing. Still alive.

And that, I believe, is strength.