trying to grasp on to this fleeting sense of relief brushed in happiness

there was nothing but a dense fog of rejection tying my fingertips down;

rendering me anxious, torn, and defeated.

already guessing an outcome i went in with utmost disappointment,

ready to chalk this to another loss in preparation for a win.

the first words , "congratulations" did not register with me till a split second later

the feeling of a massive weight lifted off my shoulders overtook me

breaths became labored, words lost, and my thumbs lost the first lessons of the alphabet.

even now, 4hrs into the night, preparing a sleep in which i reside in,

my eyes stare at the page and wish to cry tears of joy.

i hoped all my hardships would end in full bloom

and so the flowers prepared their blossoms.

however, even in the beauty of a dream,

anxiousness still rattles about in the pink mush.

it whispers tales of how this may all be a dream and how it may not be there tommorow.

i listen but cannot help but continue glancing at the words right beneath this white canvas

its true, its true, its true.

Completely and utterly relieved

my feelings tossing and turning, rejoicing in the depths of acceptance

the tears won't come but yet again, they rarely ever do

a few more to go and for now, hope is the only tune i play

just holding unto myself to win once more, over and over, till the nothingness i was reduced to becomes whole

who knew this would be the outcome? the me from the past looked onwards with optimism, a fierce overconfidence

and now, I am but a beautiful flower ready to bloom

i can bare the struggle. it hurts me but i know how to break it back. i know how to continue.

it feels as if im stuck in a ------

i wish you understood the fear that grips me

easy going does not come clean to me

its heavy, carrying about this version of afraid

and having to feel as if the words coming from my brain mean nothing to you

offering support may be different from feeling dismissed

im left with a sense of no longer wanting to give you these words of hurt

may they be locked away in the pale white of the letters laid out before me -----

i'll accept, quell the uncertainty, feel the joy i have apportioned for this place

my heart alone may take charge for this mighty brain of mine has once again failed me.

pick apart the illogical fallacies of your mind & render them helpless;

you are in charge here.

Look forward in the present, never in a future you do not know yet

Change is a cloud drifting in the sky; blue & cloudy,

glance up, watch it go, and hope for the sun

(it will always shine)

Break apart the days into hours into minutes into seconds,

time is only your enemy when hostile.

The building on fire takes time to crumble, make it out in time.

Let the feeling of being stuck wash over you;

struggling in quicksand never made anyone free did it?

Pull yourself out with the branch being offered by yourself and others.

Face it head on; Have questions, find answers, make solutions.

but most importantly, breathe.

make sure you breathe, you will be alright.

The end is nothing but light;

now open your eyes.

in the midst of all the warm gray, a tune is played and silenced.

the minutes swim by,

entrenching the boggled down pupils

with waves of apprehension.

looming over the day, a cloud full of tomorrow flows free.

a body without melody, trudging the line of sickness & health;

the tune that is played and silenced.

who touches the pale bags underneath the crystals of sight?

trapezing on the night skies coattails; blending and fading into nothingness/

I believe the glooped up feelings of "i like you" and

"no, you really dont" rendered the bothersome emotion of logic, useless.

Only hurt played the tune;

standing in front of misleads;

a conductor in the symphony of illness.

It's one day through rose colored lenses

Chatting up, laughing up,& twisting myself into a version that perhaps could mean more.

Then its the next day, disgust coloring my features;

wondering what is wrong & how it could ever be possible to possess the inclination of capital L-ike.

Comes and goes as it may;

Infecting every bit of my thoughts.

Unshakeable until unstable

Infatuation.

Tied to the chains of pathetic, the 'i like you, i like you not' parade sauntered through the empty depths of my heart.

The need to speak battling the urge to be rational.

The eyes linked to the pumping blood in my veins,

need to realize every thing is a but a game (to you)

-

Distance too far;

feelings not shared

& the heart, being nothing but a disgrace.

Getting it together proves quiet a difficulty

so sit,

and wait,

till one day it becomes so real; (to you)

You shatter.

You shatter.

Watching the inky letter stains drip & fizzle:

Detaching from the idea of blue skies you imagined within them.

The impending sadness no joke.

It wrings out tears from eyes dry with centuries of water unshed.

This. This one moment;

This continuous montony steps on the shards of your being, till you consider the revelation of the capital L: like.

Let go, let go, let go

for this pain, recontextualized, will stay as long as you hold on.

In terms of what my heart holds for you, its dear.

The warm blood pumps smiles into my veins;

sending signals through memories made.

I need you like air needs water

But yet, i wash you away like the sky does the clouds.

Tangible in ways i cannot hold, you stay.

Told to revel in each moment had all while the thoughts of my future , our future, dance in every breath of a letter.

For now our giggles will suffice. The tag of war played will go on for some time

& the image of solid definitions will fade

-

The ground is not meant for those who walk anyways.

Trapped in the confines of my chest lies a raging goo of obnoxious tangled feelings.

Deep beneath it rests;

Slipping through the creaks of the heart, lungs, & stomach like tar.

The stains it leaves behind black, empty.

It drips out the gasping holes of my mouth & nose

Pouring to the slick ground as it takes all ounce of air with it.

In and out. Out and In.

Always returning in a manner that grips

Never to be forgotten till all i can do is succumb to the cold darkness of sleep.

-

To it:

Take the fire you lit up within me and engulf yourself with it.

Feel how it feels to be enterally burning.

To have even the mere though of water,

reinvigorate the flame.

Choke & drown in the goo that slips within the cracks of your skeleton and settles;

squishing every mode of being into an unnerving harmony.

You will never last one day in the limbo you have trapped me/you in.

-

Squeeze every drop and hold it together,

lest it dares find a way in.

through my view from afar,

captured within the looking glass of a window,

green is all i see.

Rolling hills, tender skies, blossoming winds

together in harmonious symmetry.

They sit & watch as the sun blesses them from above

and the moon washes them away from below.

Endless. Infinite.

The world at peace.

1 stare into my eyes and feel the femininity i exude

2 brand me: woman, girl, female

3 title your views of who i am based on my walk. my earrings. my clothes.

4 i dress, i see, i look but i am NOT a woman

2 brand me: woman, girl, female

5 I am who you dont see; ambiguous, not binary.

4 i dress, i see, i look but i am NOT a woman

6 who told you to hold this light to me?

5 I am who you dont see; ambiguous, not binary.

7 i breathe the air of flowers pretty as me, dangerous and ready to be wronged

6 who told you to hold this light to me?

8 remember the perception you hold is nothing

7 i breathe the air of flowers pretty as me, dangerous and ready to be wronged

3 title your views of who i am based on my walk. my earrings. my clothes.

8 remember the perception you hold is nothing

1 stare into my eyes and feel the femininity i exude

after Testimony:1968 by Rita Dove

tiny body filled with yellow sparks where are you now?

you arose in the midst of reckoning with my being,

free and frightening.

Absence is the constant now, want the last barrier standing.

-

in the mix of a hazy future dancing with the past,

a mirror the only glance at all i could be.

I fall into flowers filling the present.

tiny body filled with yellow sparks? Who are you now?

-

is dreaming : to have pain only you hold?

for the path you draw to be filled with lines of regret?

Well, take my hand and hold it too.

Absence is the constant now; want, the last barrier standing.

-

on the edge of paradise, teetering into independence.

The way forward is unknown. No one can make this journey but who?.

Tiny body filled with yellow sparks: what are you now?

-

the cloud only i can reach;

beyond the balloon which reaches the sky.

what calls me is far in the horizon.

Tiny body? How are you now ?

Absence is the constant. Want: the last barrier standing.

laying on the hot, stinging asphalt

mouth agape as fire ,burning brighter than the sun, raves on.

all around, voices scream and shout, different inflections producing a larger impact.

the hatred consuming the environment, dousing the fire in its grief, its misunderstanding.

and all the while you lay there.

in the same world now unknown to you, millions of eyes remain glued to the screen, going glossy with disbelief;

for the skin imprinted in the hot, cold ground was one they could look down and see.

anger blossomed. rising from the fear resting next to our hearts and the worry imprinted in our bones.

turning into hundreds of colorful laces washing your burial place in the trenches of justice.

but yet the horror continued.

all powerful emotions fading into a quiet , traumatic acceptance.

passivity washing over those who ripped their glance from the screen, looking down to see white.

know that in your place there were many. and there remains many.

a hit in an already broken aspect of this land.

remember that you shall never be forgotten.

your image resting in our minds and on the floor which they left you imprinted.

as the waves come and go, the next step taken is washed in its hold.

where shall we go from here?

who shall we rely on?

for freedom demanded was never freedom heard;

just a word twisted by them to mean bondage.

supposed to stay in the past and yet it now reemerges in a proposed brighter future.

in what world, full of shine, is one oppressed and one free?

is it not a world full of unbalanced scales; feathers & steel not weighing the same?

a tirade of questions, all met with a deafening silence.

i hope they know the children are watching.

swallowing up the moldy phrases of liberty and justice for some;

a divided nation, divisible, under the watchful eye of God.

teach them to know that victory is the only option.

liberation from ideals steeped in remorse in the only option.

achieving not so much but a whisper in the breeze many hands together can reach & listen.

together or not; pain will pay for its sin.

ballooning in a form of pale blue, rising endlessly into its namesake

words tinged with unimaginably pieces of light, parading in rigid lines to form a blanket of imagination.

there is a secret whispered by the canvas, the keyboard, the piano;

all forms coalescing in every shape and structure.

chosen by myself and the matters untouchable, the letters dance across the pale white of my eyes.

twisting and changing into heavenly beings i weep to understand.

the looming existence of an end, causing fear, is forgotten;

hidden when this being decides to take a stand

emotion lining up at every corner, pouring into each raise of a key, a new home far away from me

time takes it toll but in the present, my eyes close softly and my fingers perform their little dance

the whispers take an oath

till death does us apart,

in the end, forever.

to want, to be, & to see.

swimmingly the white letters standing on their brave mountain of black look to me to be their leader.

take them on a journey of meeting each other for the very first and not the last time.

but i sit.

the combinations of letters into words into phrases not computing, the grammar murky in my head transporting me all the way back to when i first learned to say my first words.

a memory which i dont recall but know perhaps i was more eloquent then than i am in this very moment.

perhaps there is much to say. to etch across this digital paper in hopes that one day my eyes will open for good and something well meaning will come out of this endless, bottomless, piece of work.

i yearn to

produce a piece tied to happiness or content.

not leave the ones dripping with my true feelings behind, but introduce them to someone else that they can maybe connect with.

I want others in this void of ours to see these, to read my combinations and marvel over what i have done and what possibly could i do.

maybe be different than the others , newer than me.

incomplete because frustration wells up when the next train of thought doesn't arrive at its appointed time.

who knows what this is about or where to i am going?

i only wish i could arrive there soon.

end for now till i figure a way to shoulder this burden of the authors wills, wants, and who i shall be.

the era of absurdity and disquietness ends with me being whole stitching myself up with beings indescribable,

wondering when this will all end, going about in circles. even with a leap, there is no understanding.

this void, this echo is not comforting. embracing it is cold and so, how do i live in its clutches?

theres always an urge to fix, rip apart the red tape and paint it blue.

but even color doesnt shed a light on happiness.

maybe we are just meant to fail, hamsters running on a wheel to nowhere.

i look to the future to have meaning but that is useless when the present's meaning has been sucked out.

each day waking up with a weight on my shoulders, an atlas in the making, till it progresses to filling myself with bits of nothingness to mend the ever growing whole of nothing.

desperate to hold, to flee, to be something else than the fortunate situation ive been placed in. the insecurities jumping at me, the silent raise of a hand to cover an eye less than the other, i live

and therefore, i cannot breathe.

chatted about how our life feels its being drained away by the sticky blue of pixelated screens.

friends no longer friends, whispers in the wind a raging thunderstorm that really never ends.

rain pours over our heads; wetting our bodies heavy/flooding our minds with incoherence.

who ever knew we are going to end up this way?

unparalled disaster. going through the motions of unescapable torture, 10 seconds at a time.

it seems we shall never leave from the prison crafted by our mind and society's joint efforts.

beautiful lies told; what you grasp on to is unreachable.

day by day and slinking into the night only to step right into the cold embrace of the warm sun/

at a state of wishing a part of me hasnt been so violently torn away.

there is no way around it, a win inevitably turns into a loss.

so steeped in the midst of goodness forgotten badness has its acquaintance.

there is hope for the lost, more kindness on its way.

but the long road to reach the blinding light is not one of easy nature.

we live as much as we cry and when the sun rises anew we breathe.

who knew we would still be here years ago, still alright?

there is wishes things stayed in the monotonous way of staying but maybe, just maybe,

change is full of flowers meant for picking.

goodbye for now old friend.

its deceptive.

a thrill, flashing zip past me, needing to go.

the many facets of you: the real, the fake, new, old, sad, lost. i wonder the view im getting , reaching the top

it all lays above.

its the hands reaching, fingers brushing over the screen as if they could pull out a win with triumphant, inky letter stains.

the rush of a lie held so tight molded by my eyes to be the truth.

up and downs. shifts. we don't know who is who.

i really hope you like me double cross out there's no hope for the lost.

infatuation

birthdays. the day of reckoning. to emerge from your skin, slithery, slow, smooth into another.

they have lost their everlasting shine.

-

3 years old surrounded by my classmates the first i remember. a vision dusted; stored in a picture. a table full of snacks, a big bright three hanging by one hand, a face twisted in an ugly scowl. the feelings felt then locked away intangible. maybe hate, maybe happiness: both are the same.

-

7 years old. the glory years. high on a cloud i can no longer reach. i promised my heart i will help people, heal them in the only medical way i knew. dreams ripped away, tucked in the balloon that reaches the sky. a barbie cake i say "ah" with pink stained teeth, i dont know who did it. tiny body filled with yellow sparks, where are you now?

-

16 years old. realizations. the day the day lost its smile. an absent person gone. was i not as important as work? the day is no longer mine. a personal bubble with many inside is no longer sacred. a loss mourned.

-

17 years old. crawled up on ashes, hands scarred; feet blistered; face marked; a battle lost. a glistening needle to pop the balloon of dreams i no longer have. a mind in turmoil, the enemy that cannot be seen. a mask permanently on; it is hard to escape a jail handcrafted to trap you. a whirlpool to suck you under, skin home to ice-- a burden slouching your shoulders. you are tiny again; flame dim & unliving. what lies beyond the storm? is it possible to dream again?

17 years old questions unanswered.

-

18 years old looming.

he hangs around our orbit a dark sodden-rain cloud

wandering around ever so lost, a perpetual state of disquietness.

the air surrounding him clogged with despair, tinged with his cries.

ears wide open, does he hear himself?

a corner dripped with ash, a resting place for he cannot face the storm

to be in the storm is to be dry and to be dry is to be free

suspended motion, a repeated action, ever going schedule, sighs ripple, feet ingrained in outside cement

hes ever ready to leave

but now he fades

when does the growth come? will he ever face the sun again?

will he ever bloom outward.

later that night i lay my soul to rest and place my head gentle on the hollowness of my heartbeat.

i wonder what love is.

there seems to be an un-nameable experience something everyone shares something everyone knows

i wonder who will confide in me.

theres two boxes far from each other, close from each other. i am picked up by the hands of the unseeing and placed in at random.

i wonder how our views differ now

a knock knock with my eyes closed little things worming their way to sit next to me. new friends, new revelations they hold the question to the answer.

is this what love is?

infinitesimal bits that make up me?

later that night i lay my soul to rest and place my hands gentle on the brightness of my heartbeat

her joy unlocks a door and invites me into her living.

to the small things that latch their way into my broken seams, I'm grateful.

it seems there is an open divide from head to toe, stuck with pure sheer will, able to be ripped open with one slight movement.

my heart only beats because i exist;

peeping through the darkness, mind racing through the light.

theres hope for something else to hold the stitches together

but for now, i live.

you ever feel as if each sliver of emotion travels through each part of your body torturously slow, partaking on a goodbye, goodluck tour before it is out and never to be felt again?

the crushing feeling of hoping but knowing realistically that it is not going to happen took part in its parade today.

surrounded by people who chatter, who dont understand the meaning of silence, it took advantage and spent a particularly long time with my heart.

old friends dusting off conversational cobwebs; to live and exist in each others orbit for a while.

now if this was a bigger scale on the lines of acceptance then marriage is in the works and the isolating quietness of disappointment will take form and claim its name.

i do not know what to do or how to feel. i list facts hoping the words thrown at the emotion will render it helpless.

my words are true, my words are my protectors.

but yet, they fail and i am here.

the feeling sitting in its throne, being pushed forward inch by inch waving at anyone and anything. till when?

till when?

Dangling on my waist, it bunches up at the ankles,

tripping my feet into one another:

forced kisses

as I stride unconfidently with a squelching pair of black boots,

laces permanently untied, slapping the edges of unseeing frays.

Legs become misty;

unknown, unseen, undefined—their natural state.

A belt missing as it holds up daint-ly on a waist

lost in the space of flesh,

drooping dai-ly as if saddened by what it feels.

A red line of ants with their mouths open,

chomping at a round flavored button,

jutting out in the area of space I do not possess.

I should have known that the air that surrounds

after its on is one that will bless me fully

the rains of jumping out of the binary.

Afterall, seeing begins with

Slipping on a pair of jeans on a warm day.