Blissful afternoon.
She slips the earphones on
music flows in
her eyes close
as she slumps on
his chest
He watches
listens
as her heart beats
as her chest rises
and falls
music dances in her ear
her lips slightly
apart as
she hums
her voice vibrating
against him
slow
peaceful
he dips his head
kissing
her crown
rests his chin on
her head
closes his eyes
wraps his arms around her
Smile graces
their features
as their hands find one another
intertwining
and it’s only
her and him
in this small
box
cocooned with
happiness.
Not Enough
Their love was miraculous,
but more tempestuous than most,
and the Moon would glow softly
to let the Sun shine and boast.
Some would say that the sun is grand,
and always showing off.
The moon likes to hide away,
to remain small and soft.
The sun loved the moon
that much was true,
and the moon loved the sun
but the feeling...miscontrued.
Fate did not favor their love
for their time was cut too short,
the moon was dazzled by millions of stars
and left the sun with feelings to sort.
The moon basked in the light of the sun
but the stars took its breath away,
so the moon turned to the dark of night
and abandoned the warmth of day.
The clouds took over the sky,
the world was darkened for days;
the sun then hid itself away
feeling sad, alone and betrayed.
No matter how broken and hurt,
the sun decided to shine
to illuminate its love, the moon,
and pretend that all was fine.
deleted selfie
the teenage emblem
of a stereotypical vision
a flash on a screen
edited with precision
emits narcissism
among people who judge
an image of yourself
makes some hold a grudge
and along with the post button
comes anticipation and pain
phone-dwellers scrolling past
confidence down the drain
questioning your beauty
without having someone by your side
insecurity in being the center of attention
where your imperfect face can’t hide
for a hundred likes
just aren’t enough
tears falling on a deleted picture
but hey,
that’s just the non-important teenager stuff.
t h e r a p y / s e s s i o n s
tell me what happened
he wouldn’t let go
what was he doing?
he clasped his hand over my mouth
chained my hands to the bedpost
& closed the lights
did you tell him no?
i tried
and he said?
to call him 'daddy'
did you?
i did
why?
it seemed almost natural,
easier even,
to call him the person that did the same thing to me
every night after Mom had gone to bed
why did you never tell anyone?
because i deserved it
just a body
made to be used
and thrown
darling, no.
i have been taught that
love means hate
and maybe
that's the only kind of love
i'll ever get
The Fire
The fire
Warm
Bright
Comforting like a blanket
Wrapped around lonely shoulders
The fire has a life of its own
It sings
Dances
Crackles with laughter
Believing in happiness
A woman will come
Once every full moon
To sit by the fire
Make it her home
As a gift, the women gives gasoline
The fire can’t help but surge
With the desire to burn the forest down
It knows it can jump from tree to tree
Showing its power, its strength
Causing destruction in its wake
It wants to call the rain
Ask the storms to come and play
feel the wind give it life to breathe
To keep burning everything
Let the rain come
Its strong enough
wet wood will still burn
Show everything that they cannot
stop the destruction
Yet, the storms see it
And the rains come
The forest does not burn
But leaves the fire
In ashes
Embers
Barely still alive
The woman brings dry wood
So the fire may burn as if she never came
And leaves
Promising to return again
monster
the monster in front of her
repulsive and frightening
gave her a response
as quick as lightning
she despised what she saw
she was frustrated in fear
dissecting every weakness
every ugly, little sphere
she felt small compared to it
she felt her soul was sucked away
she hoped whenever she moved from it
that all would be okay
but rather, the image stuck with her
haunting her day by day
decreasing her want to interact
to move, to love, to stay
standing there in shock
the image became clearer
and out of fear she fled
from that monster in the mirror.
