Immigrating the space between the underworld - and the place of the living Swimming in the Lethe Tethered to both boat and shore My muscles ache to do my biding Held back by the currents of invisible chains Ancient, abiding I let my oars soar as the wish of my wings Aching for freedom, hidden … Continue reading Immigrant
Named after the moon, ever changing Layered like an onion, which I hate Afraid of the freest and most beautiful live things to fly the Earth Walking metamorphosis, I am, yet there’s no relief Breaking out of my mind would be suicidal The paths I walk through my brain keep it in place Caressing every … Continue reading Autobiopsy
But when the summer starts to bite it’s too late andI know that no amount of begging will bring back theHopeful blossoming coming out of the groundLike little stubs of hope that are too stubborn against the concreteAll things are meant to fall and failTo chaos everything must always returnBut I can’t be blamed for … Continue reading The Bite
I'm homesick as hell. My countdown to my first trip home in over a year - 16 days away - is now a question mark, hung in the stretching string of uncertainties sitting over all our heads right now. It's a 0, a "postponed until no one knows when". As a human, and therefore selfish, … Continue reading Mind bug
At times, you leave me speechless, like when I gaze upon the tiny dots the colorful Christmas lights make against the rich velvety navy sky. They seem to sing, a slow ballad of winter that begs hey, look at me. I am pretty in a way even the bright colors of Autumn can't outshine.
The anticipation had built for hours: I am on my way to get dropped off of an airplane. It is said (if not by someone else, then I'll just make this up right now) that we discover the most intimate depths of ourselves in the moments we get closer to our uncharted territory; to our … Continue reading The moment before the drop
Do you ever sit and wonder about all the paths you had to go down through in order to reach a certain point, and, if so, do you ever feel the grip of the inevitability that tells you it was bound to happen?
There's a steep, roundabout turn right before getting on to the international airport freeway at home
While my heart isn't the playground where you used to tease and be mean to the girl you liked, let me borrow it as a metaphor. My heart is the chains connecting the swings to the wooden posts; it is the wooden posts themselves, proudly standing like flagpoles and as firm as life itself, taking … Continue reading To all the boys who have made me feel stupid before
To feel things so deeply I wonder if everyone else is blind when they don't see all the magic