This is Love

She looked into her eyes staring back at her from the mirror and with a genuine smile on her face said “I love you.” That was the moment she knew that she had found true love.



Half-Baked Innocence

Today I smiled at the thought of deserts consuming entire cities.

It’s not up to you to fix what you did not break. It’s not up to you to chase what does not want to be followed nor to lose your peace for those with no peace in their hearts.

What you’re meant to do is to live well and freely without shackles imposed on you by others. You are meant to cut the threads connecting their words to your head so that you may think truly without their hidden agendas influencing your actions.

You don’t deserve a half-baked innocence.

All In Passing

He thins me, to which my response is a laugh. A woman, looks at me as she overhears and laughs to which I wonder if it is part mockery. No matter, for I still maintain civility. I am small, but as the man said, a thin that will not break. Perhaps I am almost rubber band-like—my body with its refusals to fray as I spread myself out larger than she thought ever possible.

Wishing for Rain

I don’t take drastic measures, they must seem that way. I only take measures to reach what I hope to achieve. Last year I learned when I should cut back the ill growth of this fragrant rose bush that I am trying to cultivate. I have already learned this year when to let go of leaves that are meant to fall. For the greater good, I make choices because there is no point in holding on to thinly dangling foliage. I have also been in the process of learning how to fertilize and in learning when it is necessary to cut back excessive growth–My roots dig in deeper into this rich soil. It is all love in this horizon; it’s just that love sometimes might hurt a little in some places. I hope I have the willpower to heed the words of the wise and the courage to stand alone as I cultivate this Golden Celebration.


Like me, never another one

I have learned this the hard way

They all seek me when I’m gone

But my mind they’ll never sway.

Like me, forever coming undone,

They ask me to always stay

But I’ll keep severing this bond

Come whatever may.

For me, they always turn to stone

As I go through my day to day

Because this goddess, they’ll never own

She will always keep these feelings at bay.

What the Pressure Creates

Baby, you are a whirlwind. You are a shiny pinwheel representing youth and innocence. Did you ever imagine that you would recreate yourself again and again? Are there traces left of her and if so, in which deepest parts of you do you house her?

Now songs are no longer meant for lovers, they’re your words which hold you within their syllables. You are now a naturally molded piece of obsidian—from heat and fury you shine pitch black. Nothing has ever been more gorgeous.

The Glass Ballerina Dances Her Piercing Ballet

One day her tiny feet scratched your palm as she danced over it while you remained calm. You carried her to your eyes and you cried in laughter. Her tiny tutu was smooth to the touch and her small face was more than enough. One day you let her fall in anger and haste. You dropped to your knees and let her shards pierce your skin as you tried somberly to piece her back together. The sun shone it’s light at that moment and reflected her open, yet broken soul back to you. You asked the divine for deliverance from your committed evil. Shame you forgot that the goddesses are also called justice in a body as reflective and full of light like hers. 
You must know that between you and her I will choose her, always. 

You cannot treat a glass orchid with disregard and you must wipe her dust away, often. 

I will pick her up carefully and shine the light on her material so that I can see her optically active skin. 

She has the type of skin that could magnify your insight, she is cherished by many. 

You should have known that she would prick you if you let her fall and your cut would never heal. 

You want to love her like a prize yet touch her with hands dirty, accused of slights you refuse to acknowledge. 

She knows what you committed because her glass ears heard your voice and her diamond eyes–all-seeing– picked up your alibis covered in pride. 

Her frame is the greatest prize you have touched in a long time; she cannot be exchanged. You will try to commodify her glittery glass veins. 

I have chosen her, again, and again and I refuse to inflict any pain. 

She has chosen you before she has chosen me before, but nevermore.