Her fingers uncurled
like a flower in bloom
as if beckoning
to touch her.
The lines in
were like a sea
and she hummed
that he would be
being a bird means flying (i'm afraid of heights)they tell me to be a phoenix
do not want to go up in
i must admit that
i don’t like the heat;
it’s all too much for
me to handle,
on being mistaken for his sonmeeting the band’s bass player’s son
must have been such an excitement,
he looks just like
and narrow hips,
what a surprise you got when you found
that he wasn’t exactly his father’s
you're bugging metwo hands raised
in silent surrender,
a passive repression
of an infantry;
a brooding anger
stirring in her chest
like a nest of hornets.
with every little
she must have swallowed
a cicada because
she could feel her heart
beat so fast
it buzzed out
a humdrum song.
burningI felt god at the tips
Of my fingers,
Though never closer
Than right beyond
The limits of
My grasping hands.
I came to find that
no amount of my pleading prayers
were ever answered
delivered in gasping
questions of faith.
I found that trusting god
Was like second-hand smoking,
The damage only happened
If I was standing
Nightlights1 - Where art thou, Juliet?
Paloma’s fingers rapped against the window of her best friend’s first floor bedroom three times at first, and when no response came, she tapped out a soft little beat.
The curtains parted to reveal a teenage girl, blonde hair fallen uncombed around her rounded baby face. For a moment, the girl squinted at Paloma before prying open the window with her long, piano player fingers.
It squeaked and complained as it slid up against the wood, the glass rattling. She had one of the oldest houses in the neighborhood, and it showed.
She propped the window up with a wooden slab and stuck her head out, only to be greeted with Paloma’s deep voice, “Juliet, my fair Juliet, there art thou,” she reached up for her Juliet’s hand and brought it to her mouth, gently kissing her knuckles.
“That’s not how it goes, Paloma,
white outShe hated the blizzard
In the way that she
Was apt to speak,
tongue rolling over
snowballs down a hill;
it would cause
PapercutsIt is said god took
seven days to create the world;
it took me less than that
to fall in love with you.
I found myself folding
the poems I wrote for you
into origami hearts
in hopes that
when you saw them
you’d think of me.
Somewhere down the line
I must have lost myself
because the only things
I have left to
remember you by
are paper cuts.
burial groundsher stomach is hollow
like an abandoned church
left decades ago
for a greater faith,
a higher calling.
she is still
anthromorphism the land along the nile was hot, sticky. the sun beat down and pierced skin like little mouths of teeth, burning, burning; stinging. i smile. dalila's hand rests at the small of my back, fingers curled into the linen of my dress.
fish, aziza, one hand moves to gently touch mine, dark fingertips tapping careful on my knuckles, fish, make him proud.
her hand fell to her sides as she sway foot to foot in the breeze that bore scalding sand.
i cast the line and the bait falls into the water with a quiet sound before it sank down towards the riverbed.
i do not know how long it is that i wait. i wait and wipe sweat from my dripping forehead with the back on my free hand.
a tug and the line tightens, taught from the desperation of whatever writhed on the hook beneath the current.
i pulled, pulled, pulled until the thing fell at my feet. his face; entirely human. the golden bodied thing gaped lips and fought for breath, choking, choking.
the rod fell from my hands, taking th
You are EverythingYou are amazing.
You are the smiling face,
That gave that kid
Better hope for this place.
You are the helping hand,
Even if you didn’t know it,
That helped everything turn out
Better than planned.
You are the voice
That helped someone
Make a vital choice.
You are the joke
That made them laugh
And gave them that stroke
Of happiness that they needed.
You are the bright eyes
That light the way,
A lantern of hope
Through the fog of lies.
You are their push towards
Their positive afterwards.
And you are far from worthless.
Are the most important person
In the world.
We are all characters
In someone else’s story.
That pivotal point,
That pushes them from misery,
And leads them to their glory.
I Will Love MyselfSilence was at my doorstep.
Rain fell from the storms of my eyes
and hit the cold earth of my cheeks.
Sunlight fell down my face
in gentle waves.
And blood tinted lips
smiled only slightly.
The gentle spring
that bloomed inside my chest
had begun to grow
and replace the winter
whose frost had held tightly
onto my heart.
Silence was welcome.
Tears were shed in joy.
Sunlight was here to warm
and blood to live.
This was it.
I had made it.
I know who I am.
Eat Something, PleaseIt's your fault, you know.
It's you who's spewing your guts into the toilet,
like powdery snow.
Every day you hit the bathroom floor,
grasp the porcelain rims,
and your vomit echo through the door.
I hate it! I hate it, more than anything in the world.
I wish you could just tape your mouth shut,
and your noises I could ignore.
It's all about you, and the agony you've been through,
but through your selfishness and saliva,
I hope you realize I suffer too.
I stay by your side when you treat me like crap.
When you scream at me and yell,
I've always had your back.
How I wish I could purge when life gets too tough,
I wish I could be weak like you,
but my strength is just too much.
How wonderful it would be, if you could take my place,
and when you saw your broken form,
then you would see the pathetic look on your face.
But “plop, plop, plop” your vomit continues to roar,
and through the repetitive screech,
how I wish I could slam the door.
I wish I had the strength to leave your
I Won't Let You Become Like MeI saw you fall to the floor.
Because you couldn’t take this anymore.
You laid there and said to me,
Through tears that fell from your eyes,
“Who cares if I were to die?”
Reminding me of those hundreds of times,
I’ve seen people bend and break.
I’ve gotten so used to smiles that are nothing more than fake.
I remembered standing by silently,
Watching everyone collapse around me.
Seeing bottles scattered around,
Broken glass covered the ground.
And I wondered to myself,
“Is he ever going to get better?”
And I watched you as you died,
Slowly tearing yourself apart from the inside.
Memories are still flickering,
Behind my eyes.
I suddenly remember my own cries,
For someone to save me.
Because I was so close to falling,
That the abyss seemed more inviting,
Than trying to hang on for a moment longer.
Because my arms were too tired,
To hold on.
I am back in reality,
Watching you fade away.
And I see myself,
And the countless other people I’ve wit