Twigs On A Tree

Chasing the mirage of you, The image I believed I knew. Running and running, And further away. They all tried to make me stay, Yet there I was, So intent on leaving. Legs heavy, breaths heaving, For your promised paradise: An island where I call you my own, A planet where I’m the one you hold. I kept on reaching, Through tundras, deserts, and burning woods, A heaven that you continued to pull Away from my desperate, grasping hands. I sank the boat; boards broke free, Slipping, sinking, drowning, dying— All for the hope of your touch, of your love.

That evening— Understand: you drive me insane. A spark, into flame. With metallic wire, entwined. Snow whispered lips, The warmth, You, sleep. Your rhythmic breaths, Your eyes in dreams. A melody: I’d listen, I loved. That feeling, Your thumb, my hand, My heart, aflame. You, my favorite perfume. The idea of you, I’ll ever know So relentlessly. Why? I don’t know. But…

Ahead, adapting, restless I think of that afternoon— And the truth. The way into suffering— It was awful, But justified. Money, carelessness, and mess. I went to buy a pearl necklace, Rid of my provincial squeamishness forever. Never stopping, those Gleaming, dazzling parties— From the material car, The party in the moonlight. A fresh, new world. Gatsby’s house. The greatest of all human dreams— Enchanted, an aesthetic contemplation, Desired in wonder. The green light, A dream to grasp it. Beyond—eluded us but no matter. So we beat on, boats against the current.

my unwavering trust my relentless love my truthful one my burning sun my days and nights my poems i’d write my surrendered fights my light, my life my tested faith my absent hate my heart, betrayed my bleeding brain my wilting rose my aching bones my silent phone my empty home my eternal confusion my broken illusion my fated delusion my world, in ruins my body, grown sore my decayed corpse my love, once sure my soul, all yours

For years, I had this feeling— I was alone. I considered the brownies. I was scared for you. I stayed in, Numbing dreams. Heartbreak or grief, Your chest in flames— Few compare to that kind of pain. Shrouded in a haze, I was too weak. Then my intuition told me It wasn't my fault, That I was scared. The biggest difference. It was about love— All my memories, All my life. I learn. I live. It is all real. I ruminate, Linger in meaning. Another perspective— Wise and thoughtful In my eyes Never immortal. Just too late. In some way, You grow. I’ll lighten the load. Best in the past, right? I’ve hated baking, But it reminds me of you.

               it’s quieter outside than in here. then, tick, tick, tick. i get to class thirteen minutes early.  watching the door—tick, tick, tick. eleven minutes go by every time.  you show up—black coat, blue scarf. always the same. two forty-three. you’re looking at a laptop, i’m looking at you. you glance up, i glance down. tick, tick, tick. class starts. tick, tick, tick. the pages of notebooks, the click-clacks of keyboards…the tick, tick, tick of the clock, of your watch. they echo in the room, down the hall, to the lawn. unlike my words, better kept in my thoughts. three desks away, three miles apart. my heart flutters at your voice, flatlines when you laugh. tick, tick, tick. my breaths are sporadic, erratic. sometimes it’s boring, sometimes it’s not. today, all i can hear is the clock. the tick, tick, tick of seconds going past. three-thousand six-hundred seconds. sixty minutes. one hour. tick, tick, tick. one hour, thre...

A thunderstorm poured down All night and day– Like my bitterness towards you, It’s started to fade. The dwindling tap of raindrops. Reminiscent of my tears– A downpour at first, now a drizzle, After the passage of these years. I try to sleep but it’s always in vain. The wind carries my thoughts away. Do you often see me in the plains? Is the image of me, forever in wait, Eternally burned in your fearful brain? Do you ever imagine me, free on the train, Like how I picture you, trapped in chains? These months pass me by. I still wonder, at times– You confessed that, at night, You picture my eyes. My voice still lingers in the back of your mind, And despite it all, you stayed behind, The comfort of familiar lines. Like the roses you gave two years ago, My patience has gone and withered. I hate to disappoint, like you did to me, But I cannot wait forever. You no longer weigh me down– Whatever it was I had to do, I set myself free, severed the chain. And I hope that it’s nice at ISU.

This pain, vividly fierce,      Paints maroon over my days. My limbs seize in every manner–      Every person I’ve known, the puppetmaster, My hands turned blue from the string.      I relive those scenes–can’t escape it: The days my humanity leaked through my eyes.      In pitiful tears, when I watched you leave, When my mother had screamed,      When the phone was still ringing, When you chased me out,      And they laughed at my despair.      I’ve played the role of every character, In the comedies and tragedies:      The scapegoat, the liar, the cheater– I’m the master of the theater.      I forgot how to play anything But what you’ve cast me.      I’ve lost the person once inside– The actress of endless performances.      The life I once held has dissipated. I’m numb. There’s nothing.  ...

The silk of her child’s skin, Reminiscent of fabric hidden in drawers. Her daughter colors in sketchbooks, Better used than left untouched at all. Her mother’s footsteps echo, Like her orders in the halls. A domineering controller, Instilled the inherited fear Of all her ancestors. Born into a cyclical system of slaves, Always a damsel, but she’ll never be saved. Her dreams had dimmed, a sunset on a grave. Decades lost in the generational trap, Fifty years in shackles of hereditary bitterness, A lingering stain she can never escape. But this time will be different. Her daughter can leave the chains behind. She’ll quarantine the curse And let her live untainted. This time will be different, it has to be. So I’ll be the one to set her free. Her story’s been told and sacrifice heard. I hope that the burden’s eased off her shoulders. I hope that my mother finds the life she deserves.