snippets of a life
i like a boy
he plays drums during football games
he wears sweaters that feel soft against my skin
he is not popular, neither is he obscure
he is thoughtful and quiet but also
loud and excited
while i am a talker
with him i love to listen
i write poetry, words in my veins
he does complex calculations in his brain
he is tall where i am short;
ice while i am fire;
patient when i am impulsive
when i look at him warmth spreads
in my chest, filling up empty channels of
my being, in the same way
that pride does, that joy does,
that love does-
i think i like this boy
-
i used to know for sure
yet that changed in time smaller than a hairpin
i used to know for sure
what i wanted
what i would dream
what i wanted to dream
conviction is not for me,
for me in my head
no matter if it seems to be
anywhere i go
i cannot help but think
why was i on the brink
of something that could’ve been
my greatest
mistake
or my greatest feeling
in the moment
driving back from the game
staring back on the dance floor
laughing about things that we hate
that’s when i felt the greatest
i was trying to tell you
but you ended up being my weakness
used to think angels surrounded you
planned my days all around you
though i made a wish on elevens
though i made a wish on my birthday
i was lost until i left you
and then i found what i used to be
-
i like to read old emails
to see who i used to be
sift through years of poetry
flip the pages of
slanted handwriting
i am addicted to nostalgia
it is evident in the way that i
save old movie tickets and countless letters
storage plan to keep my pictures
maybe it is because i cannot make sense of my past;
i have not yet understood who i used to be
-
i have not yet understood who i am now, either
i don’t know if i ever will
occasionally, i look at the sky
and i know inside that
it’s the same sky i see
that you see
do we think about it
the same way?
and i guess i still
don’t know
who i am
because then i would not wonder
how you are
how you feel
how i’m so much happier
how i’m so much sadder
then i would not
need
to care
only care for me
yet though i wish i could,
i cannot
because who am i?
-
salty tears and sweet relief
bitter throat and raw screams
we describe terrible things
with adjectives that deserve to be used better
our minds are collectively a mess
scattered from the west coast to the eastern seas
wonder if i’ll find mine one day
but for now i’m just fine without it
adhd diagnosis
bitter relief
years of conditioning has made me believe that
you are weak
but i am happy that this helps
some semblance of life
make sense
-
arm in arm
hand in hand
heart to heart
you make me redefine love
I miss the simple days
Where laughing was laughing
And smiling was smiling
Where did we learn to look into such things
With such scrutiny
With such carefulness
-
sometimes you remember
remember what it was like
to be young, to be free, to be wild
to be happy, to be sad,
and simply to be.
what happened to me?
we are no longer happy and carefree
will we ever get that feeling again
those golden years
were perhaps
not always so golden