Lone nights
I lay on my back
Stare at the celing asking
‘What is humanity?’
What is it that makes
The galaxies spin in an alignment
In continuous eternity for us.
Why is it that may
Still dance to
A melody’s broken pieces.
I ask for I have an appreciation
For other things people have forgotten.


Into you

What I would give to
Crawl behind your eyes
And see me how you do.
To sit on your tongue and
Taste every word
You say to me.
To dive into your nerves and
Swim from one feeling
To the next.
To run through your veins and
Feel your pulse under my feet.
To sail the uncharted
Waters of your mind;
In hope of discovering
Something about me, too.

Grace and acceptance

You held such promise in your eyes
Unlike any other I’ve seen in such a long time.
I gave up those borders and black holes
And let that unknown feeling crawl
Back into this empty void
That once was fillled with such tremendous simplicities
They such made those children stare up in awe.
Yes, I accept destruction and all that is to come again.
I’m fed up with hiding in shadows,
Hoping for some catastrophe to happen among the rubble
Find complicated alignment to some discontinued fairytale
That could somehow conjure to some happy ending
Yet for me turn into a feeble moral.
That only in recreation that so was
Previously flawed can turn into
Something much more graceful.

Confessions of imperfection

I have folded my corners and creased my pages
For those who only wrinkle my spine.
I have broken my teeth on rosaries,
Thinking only my mind could save me
However, the silence of the room
In those dark nights was a piercing sound
That reminded me of funeral bells
And I laughed at the absence of
All that was taught to me.
There have been times where I’ve jammed
Puzzle pieces in the wrong places,
Folded paper cranes to a close enough standard,
Pressed a key into a lock that fit but didn’t turn.
All for making the impression of being
A girl with her seams sewed up,
Her big picture finished and framed,
But nothing has ever fit.
The frame has always been tilted but
I would have just needed to come close.
Why, why have I never stepped a little closer?
I might have had grasped the sense
Of imperfection.