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There you are again, surrounding me,
showing up anytime you please.
Everywhere–materializing in the obscure,
bits and pieces of you embedded in the cracks.

There you are in my favorite book,
reading between my lines in a tactile manner.
And there, you’re a lyric of a brilliant song,
singing me everything I need to understand.
Over there. I find you smirking through
the steam of my mug of coffee,
reminding me of your warmth.

I find you in my dreams,
behind my eyelids,
on my skin, in my mouth.
Most of all, you emerge
from my pencil,
and I can’t keep you away.
You have a home on these
pages, spilling out each day,
in shapes and patterns from
the words I write for you.

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Heavy Eyelids

Spending days in a daze
of windowless monotony,
absentmindedly existing,
horizontally wondering
why I can’t be wandering
trying to find the words to
coerce my voice to triumph
above the noise within me.
Beyond the symphonies
of high-pitched flutters,
forcing my attention away
from what really matters,
it was so easy to accept the
liquid that put my mind
at ease, that erased any trace
of actual, true-to-life peace.
Fortunately, when I was
in too deep, you consistently
delivered to me, love, yes,
but the promise of devotion
for eternity. Reminding me
of my beauty, strength, and
tenacity, gently commanding
me to peek at my worth and
see that my life deserves more
than what I was able to see.



Photo Credit: Lanaya


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Airport Security

Have you ever tasted the potent,
leaden flavor of homesickness?
The smooth, vehement intensity
of the yearning of your soul?
Maybe you can’t describe it.
Maybe, in fact, you can.

For me, it’s reminiscent of
the spoor of a Minotaur
or the ache of that pivotal kiss–
the epiphany that plays on repeat
through my mind, tethered deep.
The song that won’t let me
stop listening, that demands my ear,
pulling me closer, yet, so I’m near
enough to feel the breath
of its words around my neck,
closer still, as the syllables spread,
tentacles spanning wide,
reaching, grazing the side
of my collar, closing in,
abound with everlasting passion.



Photo Credit: Lanaya


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Night Sweats

Here I am on a day
I assumed would be lovely.
Now I know that you are
never too old to be taken a
fool by life, the fantasy unveiled,
sort of like when you can’t
find your blankets during the night,
left shuddering, locked
in the depths of your mind,
drenched in sweat
from your nightmares.
But, among the heartache,
I scour the remains
and find some good in all of this.
In the moments I am alone,
with just me and my thoughts,
I fall hard into weakness.
I desperately try not to stay in the pit.
I decide that I have the power
to look at this moment
as a massive turning point.
Because of this,
I know I can be myself,
I know happiness is possible–
I can be strong enough
to live a life I choose.
Photo Credit: Lanaya
IG: @writing.for.the.calm
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When we are young we think
time is brimming with endlessness,
looking upon it with an insolent interest.
We are crowded with naive wonder,
that, in retrospect, is a touch frightening.
Should we pay our dues for blindly trusting
because we were deep in the
misguided haughtiness of possibility?
No. The world has gone ahead since then.

Continue reading Efflorescence.

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Waves, Until They Weren’t

How bizarre it is to live on Earth.
How your life can flip in an instant.
How you think you have vision,
but your sight is actually muffled from sleep,
from believing that enough is all you deserve.
You remain blinded in a puddle of selling yourself short.
The illusion. The mysteries of our world.
The fine, near invisible line
that only some are lucky enough to notice and conquer.

Continue reading Waves, Until They Weren’t

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On Meeting the Dangerous

How do we shield the young from hurt?
We can’t, and so, we don’t.

And even if we possessed
the uncanny ability to save them
from the affect that
frigid heartache leaves behind,
is that the solution?
Because really,
We are protecting ourselves
from the discomfort
of witnessing their pain–
the harm that sidles in.

Perhaps we should teach them
how to confidently meet the dangerous,
the ugly.
After all,
it’s bound to find them


Photo Credit: Lanaya
IG: @writing.for.the.calm

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I wiped my face off.
I was ashamed
of the salty words
that ran down my cheek.
I remember every detail,
the whole twenty-four hours.
I was just waiting for you.
My over-worked mind
began to run away
from me again.
I was trembling.
When I relaxed a little,
the fear actually crept closer.
I heard dead leaves whistle,
And then, I knew
what must be done.
I made the choice–
I decided to be happy
to be there for myself.