I am a thief. 

I have stolen
time so that 
it stretches like
pizza dough; 
I have hid it in my pockets
like a stolen chocolate. 
I have melted and 
molded it to fit
the shape of 
my palm, 
I have stolen 
time. 
I stole it to 
make the 
seconds feel like minutes
and the minutes feel
like hours and
the hours feel like days and
the days
feel like
forever. 

I have stolen 
time so that 
it bends and 
ripples to go by
my rules, so that
we'll never have to say
goodbye, 
so that
I'll never have 
to kiss your 
cold cheek
one last time,
as tears
create oceans
on my face,
and tissues become
paper sailboats, 
lost in the
storm of my sadness, 
and 
I. Steal. Time. 

So that it stops, 
and when 
I look at you, 
our smiles are 

If I ever went missing,
my parents could tell the police:
she leaves behind cups and mugs
stained with her lip-prints
(they're like fingerprints,
but instead of DNA you find
swirly moons
made of glossy
brown, matte pink, creamy red,
and they circle the rims
as if marking their territory as hers,
all hers.

If I ever went missing,
my parents could tell the police:
she leaves behind petals
from roses, daisies and
dandelions,
their dewy hearts forming
a trail of beauty,
and even though some people
see them as weeds,
she always knew that
they were worth so much more,
and from her love
came a trail of their
broken bodies.

If I ever went missing,
my parents could tell the police:
she collects words like stamps,
trying to find one of every
shape, size, color, place, feeling,
and will only be happy
once she has them all

I found my former self
in an abandoned alley
in the back of my brain.
She was sitting against the graffiti,
bandaged knees tucked to her beating heart,
trying to fade into herself.
I shouted her name
hoping for any sign of recognition
but all she did
was slowly look up.
With blinking honey-colored eyes,
thick lashes sticking together
like shadows to a person.
I saw the confusion
as it settled onto her face
and knew what my answer was
before she even asked.
"Who are you?" She said.
"I'm you," I responded.
"After you let go
of all the nasty weighted things
that you tend to hold
so close to your heart.

"I'm you," I said.
​​"After you let go."
 

#SOS18


i straighten my mask
the one of pleasantries
and polite remarks
the one that has an illuminous smile
and i turn my back
fight against the roaring current
that tries
desperately
to pull me over the summit
i 
  break
            free

the others 
they run to my side
they see i need help
they see i need aid
but yet
they too
turn against my current
the one that threatens again and again
to pull me over

it leaves me bait
promises of happily-ever-afters
dreams-coming-true
flying-with-my-wings
but i say to it
"how can i fly if i'm bound in your chains?"

so

i turn away
and i replace the mask

 

*inspired by Maya Angelou's Still I Rise, and the line, "Did you want to see me broken?"


Hey, can I sit with 
you guys?
No, the loser table is
that way. Sorry.

do you 
like to know
that after i've 
walked away
after my smile
has been seen
after my head
has been held high
my grin starts
to fade and 
my shoulders
start to droop
and my eyes
fall
to the floor
as tears cascade
i can't take 
this anymore

what makes
you feel like royalty
the 'friends' that
TAP-HEART-TO
LIKE-IMAGE
your selfies
the admirers wistfully 
eyeing you as if they'd 
kill 
to be 
in that empty
chair next to you
feeling just as powerful
instead of hiding 
like me

when you're all
alone
do you feel 
satisfied

Hate does not
make flowers bloom
their purpleredpinkorange 
petals (delicate 
as lace) 
do not touch the sky.

Hate does not
make children smile
their mouths (hungry, 
sometimes unfed)
do not stretch wide
with happiness.

Hate does not
make you stronger
those ugly poisonous
words(aimed toward the
innocent)
do not make the world
a brighter place.

Hate does not 
make us look different
our eyes are 
still bluegreenbrown
but our thoughts 
(once used for a greater 
purpose, meaning)
are filled with 
bitter dislike.

Hate does not
make problems go away
in fact, it creates more
a domino train
(taking on and letting 
off passengers routinely)
so much now, heaps
suffocating
the illuminated world.

Hate does not 
make us unite
our hands, all shades

Oh, writing,
How I love you!
With your eyes that I can
Fall and disappear into,
And your safe arms 
I wrap myself up in. 
Whether I'm reading
Or creating stories of my own
You're always my friend,
My love, even. 
When I'm sad or
Stressed or tired of the world
I fold myself into your pages
And with a sprinkle of 
Literary dust-
Away my problems go.
Writing, you are my love
And I hope we shall never be apart.
You let me release 
The haphazard thoughts
Travelling around in my mind.
You let me read your words
Soaking them in like water.
Your pages are my paradise.
Please, let us be apart no longer.
Each moment without you
Is dotted with tears.
Where do I put my stress and fears?
But then you reappear
And I love you once more.
If we shall be apart any longer-
Oh! I might die at the thought. 

All alone in the world
My hesitant footsteps echoing infinitely
I check to see if anyone's following
But no one seems to see me at all.

Daybreak opens the clouds like gates
Will the sun see me?
Ah, nevermind. Silly thoughts for someone
Who's all alone in the world.

Snowflakes fall down like cliff-jumpers
They risk melting so we can see
Their iridescent, ominous beauty
Still, I am all alone in the world.

Night comes behind me like a thief
I'm surrounded in darkness
But I feel like the light-
The only one in the world.

Everyone's asleep, snoring in their beds
Even the moon has slumbered off,
Behind the wicked clouds.

And still, 
Still I am all alone in the world
As my hesitant footsteps echo infinitely.