Friday, September 30, 2011

day 68

The thoughts of a midnight jogger
Can be heard
Twenty two times louder
Than the footsteps of a morning runner.

There are thirty six miles here
before us
And I'm lost between the ocean and the grass.
Feet feel like waves on steady ground
like heavy cement on calm ponds
Like st a g g  e r ed   b r e a t h i n g
h e a v i l y
with heaven between calloused palms

This is where I say:
The runner sees a light
It is similar to the sun
Feels twice as cold
Feet feel like giving up
     L     o   o  s  e 
E ve r  y t h  i n g   i s   l o o s e 
   Missing the bolts used to hold the heaviest breaths together

Tonight the jogger spots the light
 It feels like heaven
    Feet feel like heavy
                 The weight is like carrying oceans tonight
Full of monsters and below zeros
And this is where I tell you I'm tired
Feet feel like bellowing
with monsters eating at an empty stomach.
Liver is filled with burning secrets.
Reminds me of how that night felt.
at the bottom of my throat
I could breathe fire and it wouldn't light up a single

the jogger wont find what she's looking for.
She only searches at midnight.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

day 67

may another name never sound as sweet
on days where my own breathing feels too cold.
there is no name for such a miracle.
heavy heaving and hard headed hearts are born when 
evening naps and warm words are necessary.
religious sanctity with safe wisdom teeth,

dear mother,
may another name never sound as sweet.
clenching heartbreaks behind closed porcelain.
words do not hurt 
if you understand the source of pain.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

day 66

1 It's Wednesday early morning. 2:22 AM. Not sure if it's a sign, some sort of coincidence, among the lines of that. I am writing you this letter with hoping ink and comforting words.

2 I met you late Spring. A year ago. We both loved Pokemon, and we both loved each other. You were adventurous, handsome, and geeky. I was broken, and yeah, more broken. And lost.

3 You used to push me away more than pull me towards you. Tell me: What makes this push so much more different? Why did this push pull me towards myself?

4 Why not sooner?

5 It's funny how found I thought I was with you. I was actually more lost than ever. I was not the quiet, polite, sweet girl. I was never boring. And I never plan to be. Today I am, and will forever be, me. In all ways, with regards to all hidden attributes. I am no longer seeking days to be the perfect girl for you. She is out there somewhere, and you will find her. She will not be anything like me, but she will be beautiful in her own way. Hopefully she is found, and hopefully she finds the golden heart in you. If it doesn't work out, ask yourself: Was I last to push? Please do not try to change her.

6 In the unfortunate event that you realize I am finally moving on and seeing someone new: I can't think of any beneficial words for you. Hopefully you can find happiness in your soul to give to me. I don't know if we'll last "forever," if I will lose myself in him, or even if I will fall in love with him. All I know is that I am finally able to stand alone and call myself beautiful. He seeks the same beauty from the world as I do. I don't know where I'll be in 10 years, but I know that I have a passion, and I know that he does, too. We both may have stumbled upon each other's lives to just ignite growth, just like our relationship.

7 You will never be referred to as my "ex-boyfriend." You've gotten under my skin, broken my virginity seals, and sewed me back together. Yes, I was broken a year ago. Yes, I was still lost while with you. Yes, you pieced me together. And I am eternally grateful.

8 You are the only person I have trusted enough to help me overcome my rape.

9 I wish you the best of luck throughout the rest of your journeys. Do not be afraid to live. You've only been existing, and that's worried me.

10 Look at yourself in a different perspective. Stand from afar and look. Ask yourself: what am I doing? WHY? But most importantly, ask who is watching you.

From a past lover

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

day 65

she told me:
i wander dirt paths
searching for what you feel.
i opened my eyes, love
but i can only smell
freshly buried

things have suffocated
between us
deeply dug.
if you wander deep enough
your cause is stitched to me
we have become one
in the most numerous ways

Monday, September 26, 2011

day 64

Please don't call me morbid-

I think I discovered what love is today.
I saw her new hair.
She swept it to the side
as I stood here sweeping leaves off their feet
they are dying
and dying to fall in love
Is that how love really feels?

Each cracking in their spines
I love the way they bend so easily for me
Whisper cold words
I hear that
in their voices
They are giggling together
but I know a shy girl's laughter.
They are dying to be with me

I plucked them from their homes
by one
today she dyed her hair red
I pushed off her the swingset in the fourth grade
her knees bled so bloody beautifully
I swear
I think I discovered what love is today
She is so bloody beautiful

Please don't call me morbid-

I think I discovered what love is today.
I saw her new hair.
Sweeping red dye through strands of her own DNA
I kept all her dying words tightly packaged in colored bottles
I would keep them to feel like her
Feel her laughing nervously
Keep remembering the sound of that
She swept me off my feet
I swept her red dye off my feet.
My soles weren't bleeding.
She was bloody beautiful
I think I discovered what love is today.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

day 63

Ode to the keeper of my soul:

We sit on lawn chairs on city side walks
Clouds scaring away the sunshine
They form shapes that I've never thought of.
I'm starting to believe that the sky isn't wide enough for our dreams.
We hold them with pot holder hands
They are freshly brewed 
straight from our own ambitions.
I won't promise to build my dreams around you,
but to build my dreams with you.
You are honey comb home to seeking adventurers

My soul is safe in your thoughts
I am carrying the troubles of womanhood in small tote bag backpacks
These minuscule problems are just back blemishes
Birth marks that I will carry with you forever
we will get through them pinky intertwined with pinky
These moments are too sacred to hold with empty palms

Saturday, September 24, 2011

day 62

I don't understand why your ego is so big.
You're such a shitty person.

every ounce of my being will willingly shake the hand that
makes up every ounce of your being
but I will always have the feeling
to shake every fiber of your being into sanity.
you drive me insane.

this poem will end before the cells in your brain
figure out where this message is going.

Friday, September 23, 2011

day 61


life is freaking sweet
i love good vibes and good friends
please, dont just exist


Wednesday, September 21, 2011

day 59


I dont know when you'll ever read this
or hear this
but just now know that I love you.

I love you to every ounce of paint used to paint these walls.
but we are  s t a n d i n g  by t o g e t h e r
and staying together sounds awfully...

You feel like a family's first Christmas.
Keep me tightly wrapped in your mistletoe arms.
Your soul
....well...your soul is kissing me
Yes. That is how much I love you.

 I love you to the ground six feet deep
You are almost as tall as the roots of kissing trees
but maybe one day I'll prove to you adventurous
and we can climb and kiss in trees.
with you
the limit will never exist.

Even if the sky breaks
and shoots out meteorites
because I've never heard mediocre sound so right.
Our love may not be the best
but it will become the best.
When only the stars and the Milky Way are visible
and the sun comes crashing down
and I am mid kiss with you
I will happily say that THINGS...
and hot damn!
I love you to the fifth light year and back
because five is bigger than four
and I want to love you more than forever.

I love you from Bm7 to A#m7
in that order
and it may not sound that pretty
but your voice  is a  family's first Christmas carol.
I sure as hell wouldn't be caught singing in public
but hey
I love you to the end of my soul's singing career!!

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

day 58

My eyes are
silver surfers on empty moon homes.
We are weightless
but filled with galaxies
the both of us only imagined existed.

Monday, September 19, 2011

day 57

When people describe me, they always include something about how I'm so positive about love, and how I never let love bring me down. How I'm so hopeful. How I never give up on love.

I seek love in the form of words.
pictures that I can take with my eyelashes,
sweet nectar feelings
pollen swollen eyes
I mistake it all for love.

Heart breaks sound like the thumps of rain forests
falling for each other in the depths of lost ruins.
Being broken is swallowing melted metal
while being in a freezer that only freezes your appetite.
Sometimes the darkness of love eats away at my butterfly cage
and there are times when I can't stomach disappointment.
I've broken enough hearts to build five new ones.

But that would be selfish.
What would I do with five hearts?
I only need one.
We only need one.
It breaks, it boils, it freezes over
but it's never lost.
It's magical,
this whole love crap.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

day 56

She's so cute

I want to hug her
            and hold her
     and kiss her on the face

Last night
I told her that I'm not leaving:
It's 11pm and it's cold outside.
It's not quite December
and November is nowhere near.

Your face makes me believe in 
February 14th.

She chuckled
Her cheeks became as rosy red
as Santa Claus is believable.
But it's not Christmas yet, sweetheart.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

day 55

Autumn #17

I've watched the moon turn into suns
and sons into happy gentlemen
As long as I can remain weightless,
the pull of tides will dance towards me

The cicadas will always sing my brother's name
Winter is approaching
I don't know where the bees go when it gets cold
but I will never forget our childhood mockeries
They sing to me lullabies that tell stories of clocks,
melting into icicles
Time freezes, yall
And the mockingbird will rest in peace tonight

Stories finish
Sometimes happy, most of the time broken
I've braced myself for the fifth chapter of every book
That is when the paper cuts grow deeper
My hands have become vines attached to words
There is always a hello behind a heartbreak

Silence isn't real
I can't fall asleep in sound proof basements
My dreams never fail to keep me awake

I've felt colder winters on summer loving nights
Stop and think, love
It may not be cold outside
People give up warmth for lust in exchange of happiness
Now tell me, how long can you really see yourself holding my hand?
I'm starting to grow warm in my own skin

If I am able to speak this peace,
then I have found a home
If you are able to hear this peace,
then I am welcoming you with open arms

My wants are pulling me left
and my needs are pulling me right
I don't know where I'll end up in 10 years
but I'll sleep soundly in sound proof basements with the knowledge
that my dreams have pulled me forward

Dreams exist when happy gentlemen love their sons
and when suns turn into moons
Wishes sink to the bottom of broken ocean floors
but you can pull tides in your direction with just a hint of passion

Id love to watch someone fall in love 
and feel their souls immerse in beach tears
Silence is the stinging of sea salt on naive eyes
I now see that birds fly South when love freezes over,
but the bees drown themselves in cicada cries
A love lost will grow like vines onto my lungs
This is done for the day I become completely weightless
and discover that I can still breathe after catching paper cuts

It takes 17 years for a cicada to shed its skin and sing
Well tonight
I am 18
and I've found a home in words

Friday, September 16, 2011

day 54

this is the face of a writer
a persuasive type
size 12 times new roman
newly wed bride to a happy heart

this is the face of a daughter
spreading heartbreak like the jam on kindergarten sandwiches
and photocopy smiles of my mothers

this is the face of a musician
lips used to kiss away sweet bliss
i'll say goodbye willingly
as long as there is breath
i will be okay

this is the face of a best friend
favorites exist in my world
and my best friend's universe too
its proven that there can be two suns on one planet
she is the earth
and i am the ocean
together we will build confidence

this is the face of a stranger
has a stranger ever made you feel at home?
home is a strange word sometimes

this is the face of someone who cannot be defined

Thursday, September 15, 2011

day 53

open letter to lc:

do not bite the hand that feeds you-
you feed me the faith I need 
to get through my daily obstacles
I will never put clenched teeth
to clenched fists
with you,
I am open to dream

new friends are bronze medals
dusted replicas of golden futures
you will always be my golden girl
holding up sun rays
with fingertips just to keep us warm

there is always enough time-
we share fresh secrets like fresh dandelions
picked off strands of grown grass
here we lay and exchange mindsets
filling each other in with more oxygen
and breathing in old carbon dioxide
i am able to breathe with you

seven years-
this sisterhood is .34 seconds away from me
i feel your comfort during the farthest of distances
wherever we both rest our heads at night
you will be the first thing i think of
when i wake up

i don't need to fall in love
to know what true love is


Wednesday, September 14, 2011

day 52

welcome back
overheating lap books
and horrible sleeping patterns
homework close to finished
but not even close to started

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

day 51

sleepy eyelids get heavy too quickly
come dance in dreams with us
we will make everything make sense

Monday, September 12, 2011

day 50

50 miles away
I hear your heart, gorgeous,
beating with each eye blinks
each lash curls
I hear your blue mascara
screaming sobbing yelling
"come back to me"

you are singing twice as hard for me
holding whole notes twice as long.
I miss holding you in my lungs
inhaling your blank heartaches,
but I am here love
with nothing left to offer.
hands dry from shuffling lust coupons
there are no more kisses left to send
just surprise packages of chapped lips
and boxes of lip balm

The wind here is so strong sometimes
it blows your voice 50 miles away from here
in the opposite direction
you are North East
but your pulse travels 50 miles East West
how far do our postcards have to travel
to tell you how long its been since I've last seen you?
don't become a memory.
I choose to forget too easily
and I forget to want to remember

I wander 50 miles North East
on days where I wonder where you are
you are lost love
like faded ink on washed up jean receipts
you were once held at value to me
but it's been 30 days since we've last kissed
and I don't know love
\you have been wiped off the face of these teary eyelids
believe me when I say I chose to forget
I can only stare for so long
until I forget to remember who you are to me.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

day 49

I want to grab time with my fingers
feel every curve on its tiny body
Let's make time to know I'm interested
in spending nights and making days
shoulder cries and cheek kisses
just don't go

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Friday, September 9, 2011

day 47

a gently used glass bottle
to hold all this power in

or maybe
to just collect our tears
remind us that these elements will mix together
and there are more friendship atoms than saline
we cry
we weep alone
but sweep teardrops together
double knotted.

We've been linked by invisible laces since birth
crossed bows at different intervals
and tied together til the end of time

our friendship is the aftermath of broken glass
eventually we will all shatter
but we will blow into the wind
like precious beach sand during summer wind storms
cause eyes to tear up
it's your choice to let go
but it's not fair to hold it all in
feel free to share your
because I am
a gently used glass bottle
to hold all this friendship in

we can watch the mixed elements of ourselves
swim freely in our sand memories
or sit and watch time pass
when our ribbon souls are tired

so friends
please remember
that yes
eventually we will all shatter
because we are fragile gently used glass bottles
but we contain so much love
packaged with strong souls
we will blow into the wind
but we will never run too far
from our bonds.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

day 46

Let's say the sky is falling.

Do you know where your heart is?
Are your thoughts atop your shoulders?
or did your shoulders run away in the night?

Do you remember your last nightmare?

Where is the girl of your dreams?
Is she by your side?
Or did you leave her in your fantasy utopia?

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

day 45

HELLO senior year
hello nine dollar eyeliner
because it's waterproof
and smudgeproof
and really, really dark
hello looking insanely tired
like praying mantis eyes
running a five hour decathlon
running on caffeine
or at least, just wishing to be

because hot coffee
during a cold CADD class

hello overly priced lunches
especially ones I can't eat
since no one seems to think about the
the vegetarians
the anything but meat eating eaters

hello wanting to do homework
but not
because i'm a lazy person

hello having to worry about my future

senior year
ive only known you for 4 days
but damn
you are annoying!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

day 44

Throw a twig on a river front
watch it wander.
It may seem lost now,
but stick around.
It will soak up the sea,
fill its glass of hope to the brim
with a seashell phone call
and a beach warm tear.

Her body swam through air
Tell me what you know about breath release
and I'll reply
you know nothing.
Watch her dance
spot sweat trickling down toned smiles
she is glistening.
like sunsets reflecting off rainstorms
It is only gold from here.
She is an ocean
She carries the deepest, darkest secrets
she knows your fear of drowning
come sit with her
on beach sand floor mats
admire the blues you feel
how deep did your soul dig around her?
Build her a moat
protect her
She will never let you drown.

Rest in beats, Alda.

Monday, September 5, 2011

day 43

Her shoulder blades remain
sharp and defined.

Bone structures sketch high definition pixels of wings.
She is an angel
and it is her time to fly.

R.I.P. Alda L. Phung
In memory of a beautiful girl

Sunday, September 4, 2011

day 42

(jasper som is so beautiful in so many ways.
we've been friends since the beginning of time.
he deserves an appreciation haiku,
because we've both seen each other
grow into the people we are today.
without you sweetheart,
i wouldn't have eyewitness proof
of how tremendous my growth has been.
you impact my life.
this day is for you.)

this is magic hands
you are like magic perfume
my partner in crime


Saturday, September 3, 2011

day 41

Napkin poetry vol 1:

I wonder what everyone
else is thinking.
There are 3 million
brains and half
empty minds with
70 hundred
The world is so
My problems are
minuscule napkin

Friday, September 2, 2011

day 40


all aboard

complimentary shots of pity drinks
and lighters for your death sticks
cyanide in your coffee
we know you are apathetic today
we will even up the dosage of narcissism if you ask

your wish
is our command

there are ten stops today
but we cut them to one
anywhere, but here.
because we know
every place you go is bland
is gray
is boring
is filled with too many people
cockroach infestations of your mind
they are being born in your thoughts

and of course
there are four laboratories
with scented toiletries
two washrooms at each end of the tram
we equipped the mirrors with instant self indulgence
you should feel like the chocolate
you kill yourself over

thank you for joining us today
we are on hands and feet to serve you
care about yourself more than us
spit on us
degrade us
anything to make you feel better.
because after all,
caring for only one soul
being your own
is much more important
than caring for others.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

day 39


eyes that don't smudge paint
and a cure for ear pains

we don't want to hear it anymore