glass fingers

worm-wood toes

and a torso

of silver metal

all cold

.

dried leaves

crinkle like crows

summer tongue

thick with

prose

.

aching head

crowned

with bones

rumbling

floorboard

no one owns

.

cylindrical lies

picket fence rows

bloody sermon

empty paper

folds

.

It’s 2314, I’m exhausted. My ears filled with NF’s album; the search.

”next time this happens”

I cursed out a friend Sunday, he didn’t deserve it. I get super hostile once a month. He didn’t make a comment that warranted that reaction.

”maybe we got to comfortable”.

I burned a rope on our friendship bridge. I didn’t mean too. I’m going to lose a friendship, I can see it coming. I tried to let him know he didn’t do anything, it was all me. I promised it wouldn’t happen again.

i made a plan though. I sat there trying hard not to cry while my depression kicked into overdrive. I was ready. I could take a knife from my car, my tattoos could cover the marks.

i had a plan. Why? Because I’m not worth it. What if I do it again? I’d lose whatever I had left. Guys, I had a plan! I self destructed a friendship. Why am I so fracked up! I want to scream. I hate myself. AND HE FORGAVE ME! I don’t deserve it!

so I walked away, turned away from the friends. Put on my headphones and walked it out. I wanted to leave, I wanted to go right then, I’m not worth it.

but God said different…..

its 2323 and I’m listening to NF; Hope. After 11 years a woman I haven’t seen called me out on the street. I took care of her daughter during a terrible divorce. I still had a plan until she told me I was the Angel in her life. I showed the kid life can be okay and I gave them laughter. Mom asks how I’m doing, why say the truth, she is going to die from cancer in 8 month. I don’t have the right to say I feel like i am a rabid dog that needs to be put down.

Its 2330, I got to sleep. I have kids depending on me tomorrow. I don’t have a plan, but I feel i Should.

I'm the finely chopped onions

Sprinkled upon a bed of noodles

that hide naked beneath the soup

I'm the finely chopped onions

Peering over the edge of the bowl

Witnessing the crispy, tender meat,

the silky, bouncy tofu,

and the soft, fluffy rice

all come and go

I'm the finely chopped onions

Carrying the burden of chili oil

While suffocating from the flavorful steam

that constantly rises into my face

and escapes the cage

that I cannot

I'm the finely chopped onions

Desperately clinging onto the warmth of the sinking noodles

While gasping for air

as I sink with them

Into the suffocating world of hidden spices

Into the embrace of savory waves

that slowly wash over me

I'm the finely chopped onions

That stick to chopsticks like a leech

That rise and fall as they command

While catching a glimpse of the sweet, sweet world

that I can never dream to join

I'm the finely chopped onions

That notice the abandoned peanuts

from the very first dish,

shivering in the cold

while longingly looking at the lively dance

of the newly arrived mango puddings

I'm the finely chopped onions

Left in the bowl at the end

Feeling soggy and wet

Alone and unwanted

But also unscathed

I keep waking up with the same thought.

I keep chasing my dream but its yet to be caught.

I run and I Lift

But it feels to just drift.

I want it nay need it

If I can't I'll throw a fit

The dream that I chase

for the impact I brace

I keep waking up with the same thought.

I keep chasing my dream but its yet to be caught.

I run and I Lift

But it feels to just drift.

I want it nay need it

If I can't I'll throw a fit

The dream that I chase

for the impact I brace

If there were no limits on my time on Earth, tomorrow I would fall in love. I would fall in love with the little things that are often overlooked because the time that I have to appreciate them would be infinite. I would fall in love with the way the nostalgic summer air smells, and how the birds sing in the morning. And if it's a cold rainy day, and the birds don't sing, I would fall in love with the rain itself. I would fall in love with the idea of choosing cereal or pancakes for breakfast. I would fall in love with folding my laundry and cleaning my dishes. I would find the glimmer of hope and goodness in things often overlooked and skipped over due to the sheer fact that we as humans don't have enough allotted time to spend on things that are seemingly meaningless. And maybe, once I'm done falling in love with singing birds or the rain itself, I could fall in love with another human that looks at this infinite world the same way that I might. Because together, we aren't in a rush to overlook small things in order to achieve big things that have been crammed into our very finite amount of time here. I think that this love could feel infinite.

I don’t know what I would do without words.

I use them. Sometimes frequently. Sometimes. Not so much.

but they are always there. Available. At my disposal. A moments notice.

the require no one. Complete autonomy. Independence. And yet dependent. A means to free myself from mental bondage. Eases impending doom through fluid phrases dripped onto paper.

Others read. They feel. They understand. And even if something isn’t written for them. It’s in fact meant for them.

versatile and universal. Words.