even as it seems
the world falls apart
and there are no good people
I consider how rain feels like
the universe, releasing pressure
and that the sun kisses every surface it finds
and how looking for good things
often manifests them
even as it seems
the world falls apart
and there are no good people
I consider how rain feels like
the universe, releasing pressure
and that the sun kisses every surface it finds
and how looking for good things
often manifests them
windowsill, lined
in herbs, vivid
still, I can smell the way
freshly cut grass
danced in the breeze
we’d run through it
like confetti
Plucking fruit from the tree
tip toe, out of reach
dancing on our feet
nectar on your lip
I was once told that
peeling an orange in one fell swoop
was somehow a marker of good luck
how many times did I have to get that right
to be lucky enough to have you now
the sea, its tides
I’ve embraced the waves
because by nearly drowning
I’ve learned how to swim
the wind carries you everywhere
that familiar scent of salt and sand
always seems to find me
every single breeze
seems to call you by name
I think of how freedom tastes like
a crisp sparkling soda
where the sun meets sand
head meets heart
these are the places I always go
when the light shines on the back of my hands
today, especially
I remember that our paths aren’t all the same
that my skin tone is in itself, a token of value
one that grants freedom
the benefit of the doubt
a price that others often find themselves paying
we lived in a house at the end of the street
you’d turn the corner from the main road and we were there
this delicate landmark
this home sweet home
some nights the house would creak
old pipes, my dad would say
but some nights I swore I heard voices
ghosts of me from the future
whispering to remember this part
to remember this
I’m inflicted with memory
of first steps and a porch swing
a swinging pendulum of how time passes
that limbo when a moment turns into a memory
and all you can do is just watch it leave
when will this memory taste less sour
when does it get sweeter
you’re allowed to miss something
and not wish to have it back
at the same time.
second place, silver trophy
a medal for doing well, but
not well enough
funny how validation weighs like
a chunk of metal around your neck
funny how time passes
seconds, ticking by
something just barely out of reach
some nights I dream up worlds
that are so close to the one I live
I’m not always sure which one
of us is awake
my life has encountered endless open doors
and ones I’ve closed by choice
if there is some almighty power
bigger than any of us
I hope each variation of myself
is living her variation of a dream
I wonder if she’s happy
I wonder if I am