In love with pretty skies

Butterflies

Budding highs

Friday afternoon thai

Cheap fries

Quick replies

Wise guys

Compromise

Big bow ties

Sickly sweet pies

Hummingbird cries

Every july

Heavy sighs

Hands on thighs

The look in your eyes

something inside this heart died

when i opened the door i think the cold

made it’s way to my chest

i just had to come down

from you

—

I stare at the rats

And wonder if I am jealous

Because they get to retreat

Into the holes

In the walls

And I am stuck wondering

Whether I will jump

Off this platform

—

*Inspiration: the F train

Glasses welcome back!

You were oh-so missed by these two shiny marbles

It’s the aftermath of a thunderstorm when you rest across my nose

Sky once cloudy now crisp

No more blurred lines

Sunset I’ve missed you!

The way you get better with time

The threshold where yellow meets blue

And turns into orange then embers

A picturesque scene behind the silhouettes of buildings

That make me feel so small

Even from 13 floors up

Like life

You grow saturated then dull to pastels

Until everything settles navy

Only streetlamps to illuminate beauty

—

*Inspired by the small things.

why are you so far from here

i have been walking for days

chasing these bread crumbs you left

i’ve been dreaming of sleep

and in my sleep i dream of your face

the sound of my thoughts are

terribly

loud

—

You ask me to just be myself

And I ask myself if I’m scared of being myself

Because myself is a tornado of bad and good

I can lift houses off the ground

And dismantle roots from the earth

While providing sun to flowers in April

And creating puddles that reflect the clouds

I know we all have issues

But I’m still trying to sift through mine

The anxiety, the sadness, the confusion

Blur in the spaces between laughter and disbelief

I’m still not sure how to hold a conversation

Until it’s already in my hands

You ask me if you’re making me nervous and I just laugh

Because I’m always nervous

The strangest part

I used to think it was normal

Until someone told me to relax

And I realized how tense my shoulders are

How worried I am of my image

From the back, from the front, from either side

Is it neat

Is it relaxed

Is it put together but not rigid

Is it perfect

No perfection is impossible

Still I put myself down

For that little extra skin, for the droop in my eye

And you don’t realize what loops through my mind

A film reel on repeat

Never dusty

—

*Because who is “myself” anyways?

*While I’m on vacation for the next two weeks I’ll be posting some writings I’ve written over the past couple months.

Today I talked to my therapist

And the look on her face

Made me realize

That maybe it isn’t so normal

Or efficient

To section your closet

Or stop reading at chapters

Or finish a series

Even if you don’t like it

I always thought they were quirks

But maybe they’re compulsions

Now I laugh when I see strong work drive

On applications

Because my work drive could be defined

As overkill

Over worked

Because productivity is more important

Than relaxation

Maybe on account that I bore easily

Too easily

And sitting still is analogous to monotony

Then she mentioned my need for control

And I bit my lip

Because I have been trying

To maneuver this current

For a while now

She asked me how it would feel

But my imagination is feeble

And every time my foot starts to tap

I take a breath and remember

Right here is right now

Process is overwhelming

If not taken step by step

And maybe that’s why I like

Self-help and how-to’s so much

Because I am constantly looking towards the future

Feeling insignificant

Insufficient

Until I remember how tall I can stand

And how loud

I can be

—

*Inspired by all those issues.

Today a man wearing a leather jacket

Reminded me of you

Then someone else passed

Wearing your cologne

And I remembered I haven’t seen you

In almost three months

And I felt homesick

Because you will always be home

And when I got back to my new home

I rested my elbows

On the windowsill

And stared out at crisp skies

Scattered with grey

Misty clouds

As the sun illuminated behind them

And I stood there

For a while

Trying to bottle up the emotion

Struggling to find a name

On the edge of serenity

Only capable of repeating

This is home

This is now

I am here

—

*Inspired by those pinch me moments for living out the times you’ve always dreamt of.

The tiles are ugly

Until I remember

That they have been here

Longer than I have

They hold whispers

From the homeless

The musicians

And the homeless musicians

The tiles at second ave

Hold sighs

From late trains

Or trains that never came

At fourteenth

They hold angry stares

From pedestrians who know better

They should’ve left

Ten minutes earlier

West fourth holds calls from beggars

Begging the men in Oxford shoes

For a spare dollar

Broadway and lafayette

Always sees that same man

With a “free hugs” sign

Penned in sharpie

On cardboard

But no hugs to give

On days I forego earbuds

The city sings back to me

The tiles tell me

You said you would always be in love

But you’re not in love

They tell me

Oh God you miss her too

It’s all you ever do

It has long since been

That I have heard melodies echoed

Throughout the tile and tracks

—

*Inspired by my commute, this song, and this song.

Captured all the dread from the room

Was what he said

As he held out a paper cup

In triumph

Veins of ink

Suspended in water

Was all I saw

So I smiled wearily

Because it’s been awhile

Since I believed in fantasy

And I wanted so badly to

Pop his eyeballs into my head

So I could see what he saw

I wonder where my imagination took off to

Bali or Cape Town

Or maybe Bermuda

Never to be seen again

Maybe I became this darkness

When I stopped noticing the little things

Too caught up in will be

Not enough will to be

But enough am to want

I hope

He did capture all the dread

Because lately I’ve been feeling

Heavy

—

*Inspired by childhood novice and imagination.