Some people are soft. I talk to her and I melt, how can a girl be Cotton candy? I read books and I wonder Like my scant-smile professor asks Do we see words or sentences? Do I see meanings? Someone looked proud of me today So I decided to believe it’s summer after all Not the bad kind with scorching stress The good kind Of childhood, holidays and holiday homework Of evenings in swings and ice-cream nights Some people are soft, you see They are the good kind. Cotton candy and white coconut flesh joy Refreshing. But I will go back Churn myself over to those who will spurn me I talk to them and I sting How can a man be a tempting thorn? Or, like the other girl who’s so brilliant that I cannot trust her eyes I squint and keep still, she throws her skeleton at my arms Flaming thoughts rupture into my skin I wish to win affection from her. And him. Some people aren’t soft. But it’s not so easy You see They are the good kind, too Some souls help me heal Some break me anew.
Tag: life
Make sense
I was so lonely that I ran away to be alone So that it can make sense. Paper-pink flowers fell on my head today So I petted a cat Unafraid For the first time. She was hungry, and I gave her nothing to eat I was holding a paper-pink flower and nothing else. She left my hungry arm for another woman I thanked her for feeding the cat She told me that I may give her a name. How can I name her, if she is not to be mine? I ran away again So that there is no cat So that it can make sense. I was thinking about you the other day How I loved you more than anything But of course, I had to run away So that it can make sense When you see how unlovely I have always been. I have to keep running away Because nothing ever makes sense to me.
What happens to girls who never grow strong
What happens to girls who never grow strong Trees not hardened but rotting away Beauty dissolving with pain, arid and stripped of music What happens to women who need men to kiss them Fool them into reassurance They're still lovely, still beautiful And it does not matter if they're ghost-images Of their mothers who forgot to shout Or sisters who could never be tired What happens to people who never quieten their minds Gritty dirt clogging every channel in their brains Sweet radio static a dream Skilled at muffling all screams What happens to us who can't roll their mouths into confident spells Us who are selfish sufferers You who is cruel to yourself and everyone you love Me who is everything you ask me not to be What happens at the end? Can we not bargain? Dry kisses for you in a collage of lies That's all I can offer for now Until I know what happens at the end Until you tell me How to live with my pain.
After-image
Because you looked at me Ran your fingers through my hair I am here I am here, and I will be Forever looking at you Hoping you’d look at me Again I stand in a sari much like the one you wore The day we first met. Can’t you see? You are larger Than the man who clasps your waist Like a brand new gadget If you could hear me, you’d laugh “Such a trendy simile!” Please, laugh I wish you’d laugh at me. I fear I’ll forget your smile some day You will forget my jokes, too And I’ll stay here dressing up like you Mourning your sharp smile and kind soul And your beautiful eyes, blind I wish we could meet again For the very first time.
Essentials
Under the sky before the streetlights smile And I have to cover up my thoughts Under the lukewarm love of our promises unworded Unimagined, yet Sing me the song I hum to you Sing it back in your pebble-honey voice How long will you make me wait? I’m listening, waiting Intently Give me life Drop by drop. My ears tingle as I wait For you, for you. For you to sing And mean it. Do you mean it? -Four words That destroy the language coded by Three other words: I love you.
Blueprint
I ask my mother, where do I find A kind man, soft and strong? She nods I frown We cut vegetables till the sun goes down She worries about me as much as I have given up worrying about myself I leave everything unsaid She asks, When will you grow up? I grew up too soon, I wish I could say. I wish I could make wishes, I think to myself But it’s already dark and her back hurts I lie down with her, turn on the TV Why keep thinking about what could and could not be? I overpour ketchup and ruin my fries She asks again, When will you grow up? Never, I smile. Don’t you know? Mothers and daughters They have the same lives; All we know is to worry and to love All we know is we’re never enough.
Unsent text.
A man who loves to read poetry Can be nothing like it A mother may not be a mother A promise, not secure. Anything can be any other thing So we say “usually” We say “of course, not always” They say, “statistically”. I say, “maybe It was the idea of you That sat on my heart Heavy” You were nothing like you. Was I at all like me?
:D
He is a stick figure and he jumps around my room Screeching my name, he pokes my poker face rest What are you doing? Who will you be? What will you eat and who will you see? Stick boy, calm down My stick boy still jumps around He makes me a flower out of the poems I threw away Takes my sunglasses, mimics my anxious gaze. Stick boy, stop. I smile until I can’t but laugh I take his hand and we both jump Up and down Here, to there We go out of my room What are you doing? Who will you be? What will you eat and who will you see? When will you know who are you? Stick boy, I say How are you so invested in life? How do sad endings make your stick eyes cry? Meat girl, he speaks Life is all we have, all we can feel! We jump around some more till my feet hardens, hurt My stick boy sticks around With his sticky, lovely heart.
Déjà vu
I have always been this age, girls. Hasn’t my hair always been this long? Your skin always this honey warm And yours, butter soft? His face? Always impressive Beyond all right and wrong. I have always been inside this room Memories float, mirage I may be forgetful but there are souls I’ve touched Haven’t I? I didn’t keep a watch. Palls of déjà vu, I shudder How could this be true? I have always been inside this room, Stranger, How did I meet you?
Mourn.
She is burying her heart deep in her sleep Stop her, stop her She is unwomanly in her grave Just because she's heartless, she cannot be called brave. I used to see her awake at night Eyes sparkling Mind meandering inside waves of words She read and read until she forgot to write And I lost interest There was no food to eat or clothes to fold Not even movies to watch I was away, for a while Now I've come back Now I've seen many like her Exact copies Cropped hair, tanned skin, eyes like pearls The ones who forgot how to be girls Teach them how to pose, to act Won't you? Won't you? She looks at me with eyes erased My words have no power, My love has no strength I try to return To see her So she'll see me But the nights sigh away, in vain She throws dust upon herself, numb I wonder if these things can be undone. Couldn't you buy yourself hearts? With money? I never had any, I only had eyes. Even then I haven't been very wise Will she change and rise undead, Or rest forever in her premature grave?
mimimusing 