I don’t think I’ve moved forward.

am I still the same?

do I only ask questions now so you can decide for me?

because I can’t trust in my own colors and words?

because I’m unsteady?

because I don’t want to say that I was the one who decided?

that I was unjust? wrong?

when is it okay to say what you want?

when is it okay to use your own words?



it’s 3 am and this time i’m swallowing the words back down. i just want to sleep.

am I weak because I’m unsure? imbalanced and flimsy with words. speak with clarity one moment, mumble the rest in the next. i don’t have much confidence in my words anymore, much confidence in my decisions. I’ll do it, no I take it back, should I? what do you think? anything will do, just don’t make me choose. too used to throwing words aimlessly, I’ve gotten too used to bruises from where the things flung back sting.

discredit myself before you can, parry with a dull point. hold it in front so that there’s a space between me and you. it’s flimsy but it’ll do.

I’m rolling marbles on my tongue again, unsure of their worth. too used to saying too much and all the same saying nothing at all. never as direct as I should be, regret when I’m forward, don’t want to open my mouth.

you make me fall silent.

3 am

how am i so lucky?

i’m so loved and cared for by so many, so much tenderness and warmth in their actions.

i have so many thank-you’s stored up that it makes my heart full and hurt all at once.

i keep finding myself staring into the sky and don’t realize until i trip on curbs.

too idealistic. too bent on saving everything, preserving everything. being softer, being more roundabout.

but because i never look at what’s in front of me properly. because i’m too caught up in trying to find shapes in clouds that aren’t there. because i’m always dawdling, always hesitant, always off. sometimes clouds are just clouds. can’t make it rain, can’t pull them down, can’t breathe them in. you can’t fix everything, you can’t hold on to everything, you can’t expect so much from yourself.

things don’t work out. that’s the way things are. you can try to reimagine the clouds in every shape and form but at the end of the day, it’s still the same cloud. stop regretting what’s done, stop trying to see what’s not there.

so what if you failed? if everything’s falling apart? if you’ve lost confidence? if you’re dwindling?

your rainy days are your now. but things change. let them.

look forward.

it’s another painted night and i’m tired of whispering into it.

what do I want?

i used to see the city lights so clearly, see them blinking in all their comfort. but it’s all fog today. drowned our city in sad, sifting through the dark. there’s just a dull orange in the distance but even then, tonight, the city’s not even asleep– a standstill. so am i. i’m making all these choices and gaining ground, but i’m losing so much all at once, trading in too much. throwing away things i want to take back, they’re long gone now, hidden away in this spreading white sea.

i’m not sure which direction to head right now. i’ve got the dull orange ahead of me, the red moon above, and me. still confused. still lost.

so i hold my breath to keep the fog out my lungs. but i’m turning blue by the second. simply too scared to find out what would happen if i


there it is again, the time where you cry over dying flowers and spilled milk

messed it up again.

but you and me both know that we can do so much better. so wipe off those tears and let’s go plant that garden. have a nice warm cup of milk and honey. we are so very capable, don’t ever let yourself forget that!

i’ll stay for now but even i realize that this isn’t good for me. you make me feel so heavy.

you are draining and drowning.

i’m afraid if i stay by you, i won’t have any oxygen left for me. let the waters of your sadness fill my lungs, let you suffocate me. i’m afraid if i leave you, you’ll drown yourself. yet you still manage to move my hands that hold you tenderly to your neck. i told you that i loved the rain, that there is solace in the raindrops. yet somehow, some way, you’ve found a way to twist my words so that even the gentle rains are floods. always hurting. hurting and hurting.

you won’t even look at me.

i won’t be by you forever you know. eventually i’ll pull myself out, eventually i’ll go.

but for now, I’ll stay. because I don’t know what else I can do for you, I’ll stay. I can only hope that in time, maybe my words will reach you in a caress.

Continue reading “i’ll stay for now but even i realize that this isn’t good for me. you make me feel so heavy.”

you’re bruising yourself from running into all these walls, slow down

your arms and legs are covered in purples and yellows again. so you cover them up with denim jeans and baseball jackets, tough words and airy confidence. chant the same rhyme of sticks-and-stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me; darling, your glass bones crumble under silence alone, purples bloom out like flowers across your legs. I’ve never thought flowers could hurt more than heal until I met you. they’ve got the scent of tears.

i’m scared that your headstrong mind is one only strengthened by the wounds you get from pounding your head onto wall, believing if you just keep launching yourself at it, it’ll break down eventually– or that you will. you are so terribly strong and so terribly alone all at once, you bounce back to only throw yourself forward again. over and over.

if only you knew that these flowers do not have to bloom on your battered body. that there is such thing as vines that grow over brick wall, flowers that bloom over. that you’ll use these vines to climb over. that I know that you know: you’ll make it out a-okay.

i believe in you! your words will break through. climb over. set even the saddest of buds blooming.

Continue reading “you’re bruising yourself from running into all these walls, slow down”