"And then there was tragedy and death in her eyes
and she told me with a broken smile
that she never felt more alive."
I will travel all over the world
and cross continents and swim oceans
and leave bits and pieces of myself
scribbled on walls, carved on wood,
bitten into old apple cores, and
stained as teardrops on paper.
I will meet many people
and dance and laugh and cry with them
and taste their exotic flavours
and immerse myself in cultures
way beyond my comprehension.
I will leave you almost as quickly as I arrived
and we will not miss each other
but only think fondly of the memories that once were
and always will be.
Hollow, hollow- o sweet sorrow.
I'll dwell with you, dear friend,
and slowly understand why it never pains me when others leave.
Sometimes I think that I am not meant to experience,
but maybe merely to observe.
tulips embrace
And it was there in that moment when our lips met,
that I truly understood who she is.
She kissed me with such force
that I first confused with passion.
That maybe thoughts were equal
and feelings were requited.
But love felt hollow
and the feelings were numb–
but soon she started to tell me
a story without words.
Her fingers then began to move daintly–
a light pitter-patter up my arms.
Her mouth moved with mine
almost in synch with her hands
that now tousled my hair.
As she let herself undone before me
just like I always fantasized she would,
I closed my eyes to fully bask in
the beauty of a dream turned reality.
Her kisses now sounded like a silent plea
for God knows what troubles this poor soul.
Her light gasps felt as though they suffocated her-
and I could swear the tear on my cheek wasn't mine.
And so if anyone were to ask
for a plain explanation of
the unraveling events of that day:
I kissed because I love her;
she kissed because she didn't.
fran the nan, not so bland
Francine Silverman was a pretty little lass,
with a button little nose and a red tangled mess.
Francine was as happy as happy could be,
right until she hit puberty.
One morning she awoke to a spotted invasion,
dots and spots
forming ugly constellations.
The red was no longer restricted to her head-
a plain fact that now filled her with dread.
Francine was then christened with several new names-
many that were taunting and gave her unwanted fame.
Francine was strong and simply shrugged it off,
no one knew what she hid behind her laugh.
Cruel words, however, broke her fragile little wall,
She could take it no longer; she began to fall.
The very next day,
a new spot stained her bed-
one that went
right through her head.
a future thought
Oh darling take us back to the summer days
where breezes play in our hair
Where we'd stuff our mouths with crumbly cookies
and danced and sang and laughed and cried without a care in the world
I tell you it is indeed a tremendously terrible tragedy
to be in a place where you thought you had solace
but yet be unable to call it a home.
Night darkness in sight and I feel my lips
shape themselves into a deep parentheses.
I am happy, I think.
I look forward to the future with a mixed sense of trepidation and anticipation.
I know not of what is yet to occur, and yet I bask in the uncertainty of it.
I have dreams and things I want to do and feel and experience
and I thank God that I have parents who are understanding.
It took awhile and a fair bit of observation to understand
that I am a drifter-
mainly in social conventions, and perhaps-
in future occupations as well.
I have no fixed home and yet am able to find
what i need in areas I wander and seek.
What will become of me?
Here I am plotting my romanticized future in my head
and yet I could be dead tomorrow.
Oh! The beauty in uncertainty.
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