I lied on the floor

Not knowing

At 5 years old, maybe,

What he was up to

When he asked me

To play doctor

And I to be the patient.

 

I didn't know better.

How did he know?

Maybe he was a year or two older.

I was frozen on the floor for years.

 

His name was Bryan.

I'll never forget him. 

He was made out to be the smartest kid in their family.

My paren...

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Content Warning: This poem contains references to sexual assault and is dedicated to all the survivors out there.  

 

7:00 on a Friday night alone

in this college town should be a crime.

 

Sitting on my bedroom floor,

back to the bed,

with the blaring light above,

no shadows moving across the room,

no laughter echoing against the walls,

no voices speaking back to me.

...

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Disappear if you must.

Hide your sullen face
in your hands
that carry the weight
of weariness.

Don't bother
to wipe your tears
for they will keep falling
for one reason
or another.

The forest animals
that greet you daily
outside your door
will carry on
without you;
go if you must.

The clouds in the sky,
bringing rain 
or shade,
will continue
to roll on by
day after day...

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She stood there, arrested in the doorway,
ready to break from the duties of wife,
mother, and head of the household,
but not brave enough to see how life would be
without the comforts that kept things steady.

She took pride in making life grow out on the patio:

the rose bush,
the many pots of succulents,
the mango tree,
the orange tree.

But who was watering her?
Who was looking ou...

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I sat there in the funeral home next to my ex-husband, surrounded by my favorite former in-laws feeling guilty, happy, and awkward mourning for the passing of his little aunt. Guilty for missing my own aunt and uncle’s recent funeral. Happy to be reunited with family members I haven’t seen in a long time, all mourning together, and feeling like I am still part of this beautiful large family. Awkwa...

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Another month goes by and I still dream of you

But in this dream I talk to you,
not a full-out conversation,
but I tell you that I love you,
repeatedly.

And you reply with a smile,
and it's enough.
Acknowledgment granted.

And when I jump out of bed,
it's the first thing on my mind,
the words so near,
tapping on my lips,
ready to spill out.

But they only lap around my head,
so...

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Hypnotizing, like hearing a new song,
disrupting our quiet home

For hours at a time
studying every word, every rhyme

Senses heighten,
vibrations spurred

Not once have our eyes met
where our minds travel

Not once have hands touched
where our souls join

How does a voice ignite the deepest depths
to anyone who’s listening

Is it any wonder that we come so close
yet remain so...

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I say goodnight,

kiss her cheek,

and pretend

it doesn’t feel

like guilt.

 

I try not to notice her smile fading

when she thinks I’m not looking.

 

She barely responds anymore.

Just nods,

like she’s already decided

not to bother.

 

We are alone driving

doing errands,

pretending not to care

that life is a new normal,

that our routine is just a sh...

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You’re writing in your notebook again

I lean over your shoulder, take a peek at what you’re scribbling

You’re painting a picture of salty tears running down her face

As you watch the waves settle back into place

 

A shiver runs down my leg,

Surprised at how you’ve captured the scene

The teacher begins her lecture, but we’re both miles from here

I imagine you writing in your...

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I want to remember you like this.

I want to remember us like this.

In the years ahead when you’ll be across the room

And I’ll barely rise from the bed,

I want to remember what it felt like

When we were giddy in love.

I want to remember the feeling of our hearts

With every chance we’d get

To smile and get lost in a lingering kiss.

 

I want to remember when our knees we...

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When I read your words,

When I hear your voice,

When your emotions run across the page

Your soul exposes itself

But in fact

I know only pieces, 

Small portraits in time,

And I want to know more.

 

Details won’t change

The impact you’ve had on me

But they’d refine the picture,

The person I’ve come to know.

 

Call me crazy but when we finally sit at a cafe,

...

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My grandparents names stand in front of me

Hundreds of yards away from each other, neighborly

 

They were always a city away,

But now so close for eternity.

There with the named and the nameless,

Where so many lives remain only in memory.

 

There was wind blowing in the trees,

Sun beating down upon our face,

Some of us walked on,

Some of us stayed.

 

Flowers ...

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I swear I won't mourn you 

 

I won't miss the days 

Of snuggling up to you 

Of you kissing away my fears

Of the long phone calls talking about our days

They never happened anyway

 

I won't miss the time you visited

And baked my favorite dish

And watched the kids while I went for a run

And folded my laundry tightly

It never happened anyway

 

I won't mi...

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You take flight with Tokyo in mind. 
Suddenly it’s Tokyo on the airwaves, 
Tokyo in your eyes. 
Red lights beam everywhere in the skies 
and I’m left wondering, 
where are you tonight? 

Does she have you captured 
in a spinning room 
inspiring all your ink to spill? 
There was a time when it was … 

O, I’d love to interrupt, 
change the tune, 
but there aren’t any red lights flashin...

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Mother, mother 

when I left you

did you realize 

that all those years 

would lead to a dead end? 



You gave me everything
from the start, 

but nothing in the end. 



Nights came
full of frustration 

followed by
days of disappointment, 

mind-numbing waiting, 

unanswered calls 

confirmed I wasn’t worth 

the effort giving. 



You gave me everything, 

and nothing a...

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A sequel to Walking Down To The Lake

There she is, a former glow 
that once filled a room the moment 
she granted it with her presence, 
a memory of what used to be.

The frigid air blowing through the trees 
on this winter night reminds us 
that the warmth we used to know 
left us long ago.

What would it take 
but a grasp of her hand, 
an inviting smile, a long embrace 
to shake ...

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Let not this fantasy be shattered by reality. 
Let me stay in the bliss of passionate kisses, 
Where tenderness sends shivers down my neck.

I’d rather not argue over the daily banality, 
Whose turn it is to mind the children 
While the other is out for the night.

I’d rather stay in a trance of poetry 
Shared in our bloodstreams; 
Let it not bleed out from our hearts.

Perhaps for the...

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Another December, 
Another end of the road 
As I look around and wonder, 
Where have all the people gone? 

Tucked in tighter to their circle 
Under the guise of staying healthy, 
They bother not to dine out or congregate. 
O, where have all the people gone? 

In their pj’s working at home 
Two years on 
but have they been the wiser 
Or more isolated than society demanded?

It began...

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She holds her tongue for a gray man 
with a smoking jacket and whispered I love you’s. 
She holds her tongue for crumbs on countertops, 
hairs on bathroom sinks, unwashed hands 
and mornings with unbrushed teeth.

She holds on for passionate kisses and long embraces  
that heat up to a thousand degrees under the sheets. 

She presses on for those hard fought moments. 
She gasps for air b...

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It’s the only place where I feel safe, under the  
Warmth of blankets covering my bare skin. As he tries 
To reach out a hand to acknowledge my presence, for me to  
Acknowledge his, I curl over harder, inching farther away to the edge. 
All to show that I am not okay, that I crave this space of my own. 

I fight over the act versus the explanation that should exist.  
My actions, or inacti...

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After Daniel Morris and his countless rejections

How many times have I scratched the depths 
Of my soul, picked away at which superlative, 
Which adjective, to convey the paralyzing 
Times measured in my life to share?

I gather my terms, put on a showcase, 
Step out into the world to give my all- 
A slither of hope, an undercurrent of melancholy, 
And multitudes of painfully learned le...

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With a flip of the wrist 
there’s a song 
directing you on a time warp, 
back to the time you fell in love 
with the girl of your dreams, 
or so she was at the time.

With every turn of the dial 
there she is 
and yet, there you are 
years apart.

It only lasts 3 minutes 
but it’s the one  
that crawls under your skin 
late at night  
when you’re all alone, 
when thoughts run in c...

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Or is he more equipped to express his feelings?

Does he feel more intensely?

Do his feelings ring more true, is he more in tuned? 

Are his emotions more volatile?

Do you have to struggle in order to be a poet, to experience life through a different lens?

Or does every man go through turmoil, turn it around to see it’s purpose to the end? 

Does every man live in someone else’s foo...

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The current running to meet the sea- 
does it stop midway to ponder its existence, 
to debate whether it should or if it belongs 
to the sea at all? No, it does not. It flows 
where gravity takes it, where nature pulls 
and it just knows where to go. 

And so, I stop to wonder- 
is nature pulling us or do you possess 
a magnificent force pulling me in 
to the deepest sea without a way to...

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There’s no easy way to say this; 
there’s no way of keeping it in. 
It builds inside of me, 
telling me to set it free. 
It’s begging for attention; 
it’s scrapping up my knees. 
It’s knocking louder and louder; 
it’s banging down the front door. 
What is it, you ask? 
Well, where do I begin? 
Do you have a chair to pull up? 
Grab a glass of water 
and a box of tissues, too. 
I have a...

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The way I hide away, 
to remove myself, from myself, 
from my other self, 
the one that overthinks, 
to remain in motion, 
without hindrance or hesitation, 
because she doesn’t want to 
think of how disorganized, 
an absolute wreck, she is  
trying to keep it all together. 

She exhausts herself; gives 
too much to others until 
burnout. She keeps up with 
self-care, responsibilities...

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I used to dream of the sea, 
of lonely nights, 
the ones of you and me 
staying up late 
through all hours of the night 
planning what we’d do 
if we were in the same room 

I don’t dream of that anymore 
for when I’m in need 
I turn you on 
and there you are 
reckoning every nerve 
in this delicate body

I recall your words whispering in my ear 
for hours on end 
turning pages de...

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I remember you in the morning,
the way the light hit your eyes,
the way your smile matched mine,
the way your fingers grazed over my peaks and valleys,
the way you wandered over my warm skin, inhaling its intoxicating scent.
And I remember the feeling that it was a perfect dream,
one that we never wanted to end
but it slipped away too soon.
And now every time I start to rise in excitemen...

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we were an unsinkable ship,
built to sustain any injury
thrown our way, or so we said.

cast into the dark,
yet illuminated with infinite possibilities.

suddenly slipping through our fingers
the bitter cold quickly rushed in,
and the music played on.

while the chaos surrounded us
and the children were tucked safely in their bed,
the music played on.

while prayers were whispered,
...

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a poem of longing

a poem of remembrance

a poem of rage

a poem of hope

 

a poem to slip into your mind

a poem to never forget the story

a poem to purge the feelings

a poem of healing

 

do you ever get the feeling 

we’re drowning in poetry?

day by day 

inundated by poetry.

 

everywhere you go, 

another platform, 

another social network 

for poets...

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inside of you,

that constant voice

knows you better 

than anyone else.

 

she’s been there

when no one else was.

she knows she’ll never

steer you wrong.

 

she’ll direct you forward, 

& retract you 

from uncomfortable situations.

no matter if they say otherwise, 

listen to her.

 

friends know a side of you,

your lover knows another,

but she knows...

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inspired by The Last Night of Your Trip

on the train ride home 
your smile flashed between buildings, 
lights flickered and i couldn’t tell 
if it was the spark in your eye 
or the streetlights beaming 
onto the dark streets. 

i saw your smile and your hand
reaching for mine, 
those bedroom eyes 
that whispered “bring me 
to your hotel.” 

we weren’t made for cheap 
sex, we were ...

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i wake up from the dream with a distinct unease,

everything couldn't simply be the way it ought to be

 

like a dream vacation

without a room reservation

 

like a sinking cruise line

with flooding waters rising as i catch my last breath

 

like hailing a taxi

but it rides off before i could ever reach it

 

slipping through my fingers

the dreams that couldn't po...

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it's right underneath,

brewing under my chest

this quiet whisper circling-

not spiraling downwards as 

i often tend to, but in a way a

gentle breeze swirls a handful

of leaves and they flutter away.

there's an inquisitive nature 

to it where there is somehow a

sense of magic at hand, and yet

somehow there must be a reason

to it all. a scientific process that 

al...

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contemplating her next move, 
the pounding within her chest 
told her what she already knew: 
she had to break free from the chains 
wrapped around her wrists. 
there was no sense in moving, 
for every wriggle 
tightened the grip.

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under the light of the moon 
you hold out your hand 
& i take hold.

you offer a ride with your heart in tow 
whispering delicately, 
“let’s see where this journey goes.”

as long as we’re bound together 
there’s no better place 
for our love to grow.

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moonbeams and cupcake dreams. 
sugar highs into the night. 
we’re whispering nothings, 
how our lives could be. 

knowing the truth, 
looking into your eyes 
you are the moonlight 
in my darkest of nights. 

so, love, break my heart 
into a thousand pieces 
because all of my insides 
are craving your sweet creamy filling.

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is this my home?
spinning ‘round n round
going from high to low
and back ‘round again.

is this that place where a heart feels heard
and shoulders ease?
for far too long the tongue’s been tied
and the shoulders tense

from being left in the dark
because my stories don’t matter.
the voice has been shushed
and pushed into a corner steadily decaying.

do you hear me
as you untie my w...

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the looking glass  
possesses fragments of a view.  
surrounding figures and forms  
collapse as our fingertips meet.  
yet, steady is the scene  
encompassing pieces of you. 

limbs undulate tenderly 
with the slightest breeze. 
wildflowers spread their seeds 
dropping impressions 
attempting to gain greater visibility. 

such bits linger out of view, 
boulders that were planted eon...

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say it was in the stars,

something supernatural led me to you.

say it was the moon

pulling my tides closer to you.

 

it’s something deeper

than a mere connection.

it’s something in the waiting

& it grows with our knowing.

 

you can’t put your finger on it.

there’s something there.

some call it ‘love’

but it digs in so much further.

 

it’s in our details...

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He looks to the left, a quick pause to check the commotion. 
There’s shouting crying out on the street. Stomping boots, 
signs in hand. It’s another day, another protest, nothing to 
worry over. She questions him, “What’s happening?” It 
could be anything or nothing at all. They want attention 
and this is the day they chose to be seen. 

“You should go, I know I would if I could.” She embr...

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Have You Noticed?
after Mary Oliver

have you noticed how certain poems linger 
in the echoes of yesterday 

how certain triggers replay
a certain phrase

how hanging onto words
engulfs an empty room

how walking through fields
begets velvet moonlit nights listening to you

how spinning a record after dropping a needle
births a mountain of longing and sorrow 

have you ever notic...

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I twist in the night, in anger.

I wake in the morning, in anger.

I know the dreams are just dreams 

but the aching is tangible, 

it’s at the forefront that I can’t shake.

It’s too early to feel this way, with holes punctured through the heart. 

A feeling that I’ve been used as target practice.

Congratulations, you’ve won…

You’ve robbed me yet again from waking with the deli...

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he says as it relates 
to a date 
of another first 
we’ve had. 

It reminds me of things 
I shouldn’t hold onto. 

It shouldn’t matter 
when I first noticed 
the way light hits his beard, 
or how his colors blend 
as in a Monet, 
only that I see them. 

It shouldn’t matter 
when those butterflies first flew 
from our insides; 
only that they fly every time. 

It shouldn’t matte...

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I mull over the quietness,
the licking of thoughts
collected and trapped inside,
blocking airwaves.

Only things that escape
are the redirects,
anything to take the focus
off of what can’t be seen.

They’ll have to perform surgery
to get this out of me.

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The way grey hits the wooly fibers across his chin,

like individual spikes of a wheel

poking in multiple directions,

with fusing colors like a Monet.

 

I graze my fingers through the fibers

like walking through cornfields 

with long and mysterious paths that

lead to depths I long to uncover.

 

He rests his hands upon his cheek,

pondering his next move

then strok...

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tears fall from the tips of leaves, 
no longer heaving but finally at peace, 
no longer a place for relief, 
no longer bending to the constant breeze, 
no longer kept afloat meandering rivers, 
no longer subject to raging fires, 
no longer a victim to defeat. 

tides no longer pulling at the heart, 
stars no longer hovering above, 
no longer tormented to be part of the world 
that casts...

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in the blaze of the summer heat, drips

of sweat rippled down our smooth skin backs.

 

we set out for adventure along the Pacific coast,

the four of us squeezed in a compact sedan.

 

sisters laughing, shouting, nowhere else to be.

engaging winding hair-pin turns, honking,

 

speeding, and slamming on the brakes

as the afternoon sun scorched the town.

 

we reveled ...

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the voice comes to me 
as a phantom in a dream. 

as i write 
the voice channels 
from him to me. 

laughter vanishes 
to staring at the sea, 
to the house 
that no longer carries 
his childhood dreams. 

vacanies searching for occupation 
from passing through stations 
to platforms holding onto memories, 
all of it comes to me. 

in my internal screenplay, 
is he the playwright...

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they will never know the stillness, 

the silence, as the world hushes

when the first snowflakes drop out of the sky.

 

they will never feel the crisp air

or see white blanket the fields

as it does every year.

 

kept indoors,

safe and warm,

where humidity breathes,

where mist showers from above,

and crawling critters burrow,

where life continues.

 

under...

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