Monthly Archives: June 2017

look up, little one.

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Child,
when you look up and see the stars tonight
blink back your tears, hold your tiny heart.
The fathomless night guards your sleep.
The stars watch you from afar;
apart yet a part.

child,
when you stared up at those loud florescent lights
why wonder, why despair?
your eyes are his, and his are yours.

so child,
when you see them in the skies tonight
do not be afraid to cry
it’s time to say goodbye.

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fault lines

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you ask me:
why don’t we get along?
why can’t I compromise
why can’t I understand you?

i say:
I(have you taken a look in the mirror lately)
am (why do you manipulate everything to be my fault)
sorry (for not being what you want me to be.)

if you’re so concerned:
take my life. be done with it.

remember.

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i called you
at the bottom of some stairs
at some posh hotel
where they wore smiles
celebrating my cousin’s marriage
but i seemed to drop mine
somewhere along the way
with my back against the cement wall
and i called you
but your number isn’t in service anymore
my phone burned my cheeks
with all twenty attempts
just like how i felt
our connection
burning
to ashes.
you sent me off with a text.
i sent you off with silence.

to be born and reborn

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She carefully lifts her firstborn, her spindly arms awkwardly crooked under a heavy bundle of warmth. She trembles under the weight, glancing at the pinched eyes, crinkled nose, tight pout. But his hand is there, under hers, under the baby’s, and suddenly it’s autumn and she’s in a pile of fallen brown leaves, nestled there like how her baby is nestled in her arms.
Everything is going to be okay. 

gone gone gone

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Dreaming’s like window shopping: I watch as I pass by, the clothes linger in my mind, but fade when I leave the mall. But when I dreamed that night, I couldn’t forget.

In the day, we don’t hold hands; but in the night, we do. Your hands are warm, warmer than the streetlamps and cardigans, softer than the blanket I hug in my sleep.

In my dream, I know your palms like the back of my hand. I map the lines where we meet, part, and meet again. I map the stars we can never see; I map the constant constellations- Cancer, Taurus, Aries, Pisces. Your fingers are smooth as steel.

Edges of darkness frame the dream. It shadows your face: it draws out the lines, sketches your hair and pulls you away.

I call out your name. But your presence fades gradually, grainlessly, gravellingly. Then I wake up – and you were no more.