Tag: life

Clarity.

Time seems to hide in my moments of clarity,

Like days will melt into years

With quiet mornings and him

Holding my hand

And drinking coffee.

But it is morning,

And I am alone.

His body is molded into a plastic chair

Learning coded messages

From pieces of technology

As he sends words to me

Through small screens and dying batteries.

I am sitting on the couch

Writing and planning for next week,

Imagining little voices calling out for me

To teach words and metaphors.

I am alone,

But in my dreams I will still have time to meet

And talk and laugh and listen.

I am alone,

But I hold him here.

That’s All I Want

I want us laughing over spilt coffee

Shuffling through a deck of cards

With our legs crossed.

I want that piece of sky

When last night becomes tomorrow morning

And our clothes try to hide

What we made in our memory.

I want our feet to cross over

The places that threatened our freedom.

I want the clock hands to get stuck

So we have more time to spend.

I want the papers and messages to cease

The overwhelming deadlines

So I can talk to you at night.

I want something to hold onto.

Like the days we take time to go for a drive,

Or when you take my hand and smile.

I want those days, and I want more nights—

I want us to remember the meaning of together.

That’s all I want.

Overseas

I don’t care about the mosquitoes.

It only keeps me on my toes,

And reminds my skin to be tough

So I can live through the changes.

I don’t care about the lack of electricity.

It only keeps me close to you

And it reminds my eyes to search harder

Through the dark so I can move.

I don’t care about the heat.

It only helps me bare myself more

And it reminds my hands to stay open

So I can be true to who I am.

I don’t care about the differences.

It only shows me more ways to love you

So I can find room to understand.

I don’t care about the dark,

As long as you hold my hand.

Are you Happy?

I have something to tell you,

but I’m not sure how to say it.

Are you happy?

I want you to be happy,

But I’m not sure what to do–

I feel like I’m tiptoeing around shattered glass,

Picking up stray pieces,

Wondering where they came from.

I want to tell you something,

But I feel like there are no words left for me to say–

For me to fix the broken things.

I don’t know you,

But I want to.

I want to wrap my arms around you,

But instead of touching you,

I want my words to be the arms

That bring you comfort.

Warmth.

I want to make you laugh,

And see you smile with your eyes–

Because I want you to know that I really do care,

And I am a broken person, too,

But my heart still wants the same things–

To love well, and to be loved well.

So I don’t expect much,

But I want you to know my heart is here.

It’s beating, and it may sound faint at times,

But it’s here.

I know you can’t save me,

And I can’t save you,

But all I can think to say is,

I want you to be happy.

Are you happy?

Venom

A Word to the Wise

Your words are venom–

The kind of venom that gets beneath the skin and spreads like a bug bite.

A bee sting.

The kind of feeling you get from someone repeatedly pricking every inch of your skin with a fine needle–

You’re bearable, but miserable.

Your skin is corroding beneath the negativity lining subtle words,

Bringing death closer than it was before,

And deepening the creases you thought were signs of age–

And time,

But I realized you words were laced with experience.

Times when you had to fight beneath your skin while you listened

To adults tell you how to live and how to be.

I realized you didn’t have much of a chance to be yourself,

Because you had responsibilities and weights that brought you to your knees.

Your words aren’t venom,

They are burning because you didn’t allow yourself to cry

Over the loss.