day 221

I don't understand how suddenly everything in my world can stop spinning once I lay down.
How the dizziness of life only hits me when I attempt to live. Having no ability to do what I need to do makes me feel so useless.
I feel useless.
Falling behind on work that needs to be done, falling behind in work. I AM getting rest, it is not what you understand. My attempts of doing great things lie with the rest of my energy..which I have so little of.
I rest, I can tell you that. I've been resting for days and nights, consecutively, I can count milliseconds of how tired I feel. And I can count the milliseconds of how worried the people around me look. (After resting and feeling better in bed, I wake up, and head into work. Within an hour of being at work, I get excused home.) How much more useless can I be. Pale stricken. I just want to sleep come evening, and be with people during the day but I can't bring my body to do so. I've become a prisoner to blankets and antibiotics, Jasmine tea, and blood tests. I know I can survive. Its just so tiring. I feel so lonely. And useless. And I feel so tired. I haven't cried at all, but I will once my body is able to stop spinning me dry.







***
realizing
i've been keeping
track
the wrong way.
backwards.
back to the ward

day 220

And I tell her
what I've always wanted to tell everyone


how everything alive in me feels
dead.

day 219

I have a deep gut feeling
that something's cutting away at my immune system.
Losing the ability to generate
blood cells to make me feel better,
to make me feel
alive.

Feeling dead more and more
every time I awake.
There's got to be something deeper than this.
Finding myself
more dizzy,
spinning around ideas that I don't even dream about.
Sometimes it scares me.
What if something is really eating away
at me.
What if something is really
wrong with me
physically
and my words will never be able to
heal
me.

day 218

I hope they don't think of me as forgetful.


Feel like the whole world
of people I've forgotten about
have named me heartless.
There are too many names
I am aware of,
not enough souls.
Trying to bring out
the souls in old friends,
becoming new
friends with lost ones,
it's difficult.
Even for me.
Somehow finding myself
everyday
wanting to
get deeper
into the cuts
the beings around me
feel. How deep is your
nature.


How far into your
blood is your courage,
your passion.


Sometimes
I do not feel the right
to ask such questions.
Although it feels
so right to know.
It brings out the emptiness
in others
I did not expect
to hear about it.
This leaves me
exceptionally empty.


Being surrounded by
beings with no souls
makes me believe that
at one time


I was once empty.


How do I fill empty spaces.
Write words to encourage
awakening.
But I'm not Jesus.
I would like to become a
savior, somehow, though.




How deep do my words
cut.

day 217

I don't know how I feel about getting called into work.


I am a waitress.

Today is Saturday.

I suppose it is time to spend my Saturday night
quietly
judging
all the happy customers.
And wishing I weren't

taking their orders. (I CAN'T BE TAMED!!!)

day 216

back to pen and paper: vol 7


Oh say wouldn't you like to be
older and married with me


And I would.
Finally,
realizing that
my heart
is in good care.
Haven't felt
so safe
in ages.
I am eighteen now,
Autumn turns two
this year.
And this year
my heart will grow
a year fonder
for you.
Always
finding myself
wanting to be
held
by only you.
Sometimes your voice.
I can hear it in the kitchen
two rooms away,
but you still
seem so close.
Feel so far,
I want to have my
lungs
linger around your words.
Hold me
like you always do.
This is a home
again.
And this is
how we
love.

day 215

back to pen and paper: vol 6



I feel like I am constantly being
watched.
My words
are playing mix and match
for pupils and eyes
to spot.
Touch them,
but don't twist them.
I fear one day
my secrets
will no longer
be secrets.
And all my
words
I trust to keep
online
will be figured out.

Maybe
I'm not so poetic afterall.

day 214

Finding myself
wanting to find
more of
myself.
Realizing
my life is unraveling
right in front of my
eyes.
Never seen
such beauty
in such short
time.
Feeling too relaxed
don't know how to
relax
at
all.
So much to do
but nothing
really needs to be
done.
Everything
is just slightly
wrong,
a tad bit,
but I like it.

day 213

Trying to cherish all moments with you.
Goddess, so
cloud like, perfection is an understatement.
My bed is beautiful.

day 212

I don't want to write anything
because everything seems
sad
or
I seem like I'm still lost.
It's only because I'm half asleep
and my finger tips are feeling lonely,
no hands to hold whenever they please.
But darlin little fingertips,
patience is key
dance upon letters you plan to sing
someday you will feel whole
but for now
feel this little empty pinch
like the first splinter you've ever kissed.
it only hurts temporarily.
You know I will never let
you feel sad.

day 211

Body remains sleepy slender
on the constant run to be held
This is when my eyes try to catch up.
To you.
You can't see them moving
but they're dancing
shyly,
sometimes they want to break free
without waking up.
This has been an impossible task so far.
for every inch of wake
I encounter
I gain an extra cup of dreams.

day 210

When the sun and the moon meet each other
for the very first time
it creates an eclipse like night
where everything becomes
warm.
Feels
comfortable.
Imagining that this
feels like it should have happened years ago,
but it's over with now.
And the sun and the moon are
swaying aimlessly with
pretty dandelion fingertips.
He is loved
and
he is loved by the most
loving
souls imaginable.

day 209

there are so many ideas i need to bore from my fingertips

day 208

***
I am half past dreaming.
Waking up at 2 in the morning,
I swear I was still awake at
nine.
My exhaustion takes over
everything
sometimes.
I love my bed too much

day 207

nights like these make me realize
  how awesome my mother is
  i can't stand bitchy
  old, women.
  i'll stay out of the kitchen for this situation.
  too much heat
  coming out of your ears
  i'm passively annoyed

day 206

the love is still there
no longer dreaming
of how i dream to be
treated.
this reality has made
a sudden
sweet swerve
sugar coat me
in your 
i miss you
actions.
the dream team
was always
really
alive.

day 205

but it's ironic

Working at a restaurant

but coming home

with an empty stomach.

And it sounds like

butterflies

running in their sleep

a buzzing noise

Soon enough

irony wakes itself up.

You are only as

tired

as you can dream of.

day 204

You said you are stuck to me.

I believe that means
sticking
in love
like a Pb and J sammich
made by two lovers
named
Sam and Mich.

They aren't trapped.
Hearts hide behind rib cages,
only when they want to sleep.
But I've had enough
shut eye.
Blinded for weeks on
end
this is when the comatose
food baby naps
end
and this is when
I create a cake
of kisses and warmth
and everything cliche
St. Valentine's would be proud to hear of.

You are doing well
and I am proud to hear that.
And I am proud to hear that
you are still stuck
in love, maybe a little more,
with me,
even though I broke
St. Valentine's rule of divorce, and curiosity,
but at the end of the blind light tunnels,
stands me
with you.
This is the best lighting for the picture.

And I love you!

day 203

I did a lot of things tonight that I would have regretted

if I got in trouble.

Thank you stranger.
I am blessed

and a bad ass.

day 202

VALENTINE'S DAY THESIS


1: CONGRATULATIONS! You've successfully survived
a heart ache. Or six. Each time has made you a little more tough,
a little more reserved,
a little less
hopeless.


2: The only thing I
learned in physics is Newton's 3rd Law:
ACTION-REACTION PAIRS.
Each force acts on a different object.
PAST WANTS on PRESENT NEEDS,
my thoughts on my tongue, how I
want to change the world,
how the world needs me
to ignite change.


3: I have cold hands.


This isn't an indirect
cry for a lover's
touch. I'm just
glad I don't
need to worry
about making
someone numb.


4: I've been waking up in the middle of the night
lately in cold sweats. Drenched in the tears
of my past lovers. I'm saving the world now, starting
with one heart ache at a time.


5: I've broken rib cages and flimsy spines.
Sometimes I just want to break nerves.
Go ice skating on frozen souls.
Call me heartless, I am full of emotion.
Mistake my name for Empty. The moon
will pull tides together to
write my name on the sand.
It's Whole.
I'm sure of it.


6: I've learned to fly with broken parachute wings. I've
actually mastered this skill. Soaring with pretty song birds,
singing our battle cries in harmony. Today, I
am dreaming of falling, I never land, though.


I'm just falling.


7: This is my declaration of independence.
It is composed of 6 different melodies,
written with my clinging fingertips
that seem to be holding on for a last bit of
hope.


But I've adapted to warm homes
that play housewife to dancing pens, my words
will never have a curfew. And that
flying sensation... well, that's just how my heart
repairs itself.


I'm still falling.
With the moon by my side.

day 201

SINGLE AWARENESS DAY


1. Congratulations! you've successfully survived five heartbreaks.
Each time has made you a little more
tough, a little more
reserved,
a little more hopeful.

2. I have cold hands.

This isn't an indirect cry for companionship.
I'm just glad I don't need to
worry
about making someone
numb.

3. The only thing I've learned in physics is Newton's 3rd Law.

Action-Reaction Pairs.

Each force acts upon a different object.
Your love letters in my mailbox
Eyelashes on my forehead
Pressing a new type of vision to my thoughts.

Earth pulls you,
You pull the Earth.
Earthquake heart breaks push
me towards freedom.

4. My rib cage has never felt so close together.
So closed,
like my bones are now
whole again. Filled with strength.


to be continued

day 200

My ears are ringing
and my head feels
like oceans
ripping through
shark homes.
I don't feel good

day 199

I hear the moon is looking beautiful tonight
 She is thinking of pulling tides
  much closer than you'd feel comfortable with
   but don't hesitate kissing her ocean blue
    She is now comfortable
with being neutral.

With locks of hair
flowing whichever direction
they end up in. Sometimes South,
with the freedom singing birds
that have song cries
about the battles they've fought.
THIS IS HOW LOVING HIM FELT
HOW LOVING HER FELT
HOW LOVING ANYONE FELT
Twisted and tangled
dead dandelions in lion mane hearts
No use for believing in
make believe wishes
anymore.

There is only me
in this monstrous heart of mine
I have so much love to give
not enough sanity to stay
I can only write battle cries
with a wink of wish that you'd
be able
to sing how my thoughts throw a pitch
in you

I find myself
a daisy
growing near neutrality
feels almost fatal.
like icy cold beach tears
on warm lusted skin
Sometimes
this is how the kisses felt
Sometimes numb,
and it sounds depressing
But it's beautiful most of the time.

I know where the freedom birds
sitting on winter frozen poet trees
outside of my window
fly.
South.
They always do this time of year

because love can't always keep you warm
if you don't want to be safe.

I am finding myself
flying South
in anti gravity atmospheres.
It's almost like falling in love all over again.
Just a little opposite,
just towards the moon.
Somehow
I am finding weightlessness
in myself again.

day 198

I'm a mess, I know.
But I'm somehow doing
things right
if the only things I
have left to
hold
between my
sleepy fingertips
are words.
That's all I really need.

day 197

A haiku for my best friend:

It makes me smile
when I catch her calling me
her best friend. She's warmth.

day 196

(my brand new performance piece!! enjoy!!!)

There is war in my blood.

Between my heart and my genes

Whenever I try to picture

What my culture should really look like.

It has made me vain.

But I tell myself its acceptable

To stare at my reflection

As often as I can

Just in case I suddenly figure out

How my roots became so tangled.

Spending birthday wishes on

Answers to how I should behave as a young woman

Wearing so much ethnic make up

Before I was even allowed to wear lipstick

But this is when I let my lips stick together

Always nodded yes

Or no

To my elders

Not even knowing what they were asking me.

It kills me. Like

When new lovers started asking

What is your ethnic origin?

I swear I was doomed to walk this Earth

In circles

Lost

Because I can only state countries

Which seem as distant as distance can

Be.

While my remains tongue lightyears

Away from such foreign languages.

Some days, I begin to wonder, to myself,

What kissing trees did my parents

And my parents parents

Rendezvous under

And how many wars did they have to fight

Just to stay in love

How many cases of Romeo and Juliet is in my blood?

I've been having nightmares lately.

I’m beginning to see little martial artists

Playing Chinese checkers

On busy market sidewalks

And they’re walking

DOES ANYONE HEAR HOW LOUD THEIR HEARTBEATS ARE

VIETNAM! they’re heading for Vietnam

And my grandmother’s army is over there

Wearing pretty ao dais

And smiles that just kill you

And they’re walking

Left left left right over there, they’re

Chanting- in some kind of broken tongued English

And remember, no matter where you go, there you are.

And they tell me to repeat them

But I stutter. Even though we’re finally speaking the same language

And remember..... no matter where.. you go, there you .....are

Like I'm learning these dialects for the first time again

DOES ANYONE HEAR HOW quiet my heartbeat is

And a French man in a coffee shop spots my grandmother

And they’re walking.

Under a kissing tree made to sound off bombs.

This is a Romeo and Juliet story.
Right in my veins.

Creating a soul made to love royal ballets

And I meet her, for the very first time.

She sweetly says Jum reap sour

What is your ethnic origin?

And I tell her what I’ve always wanted to tell everyone:

How everything alive in me feels dead

But she tells me what I always hear

You must have a lot of love in your blood.

I wake up.

There is a lot of blood in my love,

Especially when the wars begin.

day 195

It's weird to see baby me performing my pieces
  when my peace was first born
  shaky voices with nervous notebook hands to match
  It's almost magnetic to see how robotic everything was
  how much I used to actually think
  of every action, how I was afraid to make a fool of myself
  thinking too much of the negatives I could
  bring into my soundproof mind later on.

My words flow so much more heavenly now
Like I am finally feeling the hidden pain behind my art
It's mornings of revelation like this that I live for
  This is truly something beautiful

  I've seen myself in two kinds of lights:
  The first light being
    the first time my soul was awaken
    by sing song birds that sang my
    poetry to me, in summer like
    poet trees. Reaching with arms of
    natural inspiration. Something must
    have soaked into my roots.
  The second light being
    the darkness I've overlooked
    from the hoping optimism of my work
    It wasn't until I felt myself numb
    in my words
    that I realized how beautiful of a
    human I am. And all my
    robotic actions were some sort of
    fucked up unplanned way of
    keeping me away from pain.
    I find this pain the most enjoyable.

Now. The third light is realizing this.
I am slowly branching away from my roots,
but I will obviously never swim too far.
I haven't been coached for my gigs
in so long, it's almost an eerie feeling.
I wonder if my mentors have ever felt like this before.
  I've been called a shining light for the youth of my city,
  just because I've realized I can form words
  into pretty verses. I don't think it's that honorable of a passion.
  It makes me feel numb again,
  wondering, how, did I even get here
  to this point. Of admiration and respect.
  One day I will be the one to go to

I don't know if I could ever be ready to do so

**

I am finding myself less and less angry everyday
  More and more neutral
  As if nothing is really bothering me at all
  It's not a healthy feeling
  It's like I want to be a robot
but I don't.
And I am not.
  Nothing bothers me because nothing is wrong
  when everything should be wrong
  This is where I admit I am fearful for once.

I fear I am no longer as brave

**
Just kidding.
I'm just an 18 year old kid.
My heart is happy,
slowly learning to love myself.
I've built walls, you know.
Even to protect myself from

myself.

Crazy,
what a heartbreak can do to you.
But you grow stronger
Take everyday with a smile
Some days I would cry
but I'm done with that stage.
I'm just doing a little repairing.
I am almost completely whole
by myself.

Healing, love.

day 194

I've learned how to make my own lullabies
turned my sorrows into melodies
My mind is finally in some weird type of harmony
I've been rhyming lately though
it's weird and I don't like it
but I like the way things are flowing
living flowy
Like I love floating on

I wonder if this is what feeling neutral is like.
I like it.

day 193

Seeking comfort in those who remind me of you
Even though I despise all you put me through
I have been dragged through mud
just to feel electrocuted by your love

I drove home tonight listening to your voice
There's so much I've overlooked
and so much I've been neglecting
Not ready to completely forgive
Never ready to completely forget
about anything
but I love you
I just don't want to feel dirty anymore