me in so many pieces i think

i think i am me in pieces not me as whole who is

who is that even which is me which piece is

what i really want do i really want any of

i feel like i am pieced together for many people in

so many pieces so here is my piece for you

you had my biggest piece because you were born to

fit me and the beginnings of your life were fit to

fit the beginnings of mine and you have my biggest piece because i

chose you to fit me and you chose me to fit you for

the rest of it for the most of the rest of other life beginnings

but oh, dear, where do the pieces tear where did one

beginning end and another begin, dear you are so

dear to me everyone is every one every piece of me

and so i want to stay here while also i want to stay with

you and i want to follow you wherever you go and also

i want to follow me but where am i where am i even.

we bought puzzle glue the other day and just now i

thought it would be nice if i could hold me all together and

you or some me could glue it all up so i could look at it in one

piece but i don’t think these pieces would even fit together

so how could we glue them up without making a huge mess

and leaking leaking into the cracks and bends between all of us

all of me

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the other side

it’s human nature, isn’t it, to focus on what we lack, rather than what we have?

that’s where the grass being green on the other side idea kind of comes from.

or those thoughts that start with “if only…”

if only i was there instead of here, things would be better.

if only i had this instead of that, i could be better.

why else would someone who has just published their first book, earned a growing fanbase, a steady career

feel like they haven’t accomplished enough in life?

why else would someone who has a caring family, several close friends, a loving relationship

feel like they’re alone and unwanted?

we call it a weakness, this tendency to focus on what is missing, rather than what is there.

“humanity’s fatal flaw” she called it.

but maybe it isn’t always so bad. maybe it’s not always a weakness. maybe it’s often our greatest strength.

because why do we focus on what we don’t have? to keep us moving forward, to keep us striving for that elusive place where things are better, we are better. we are scared of feeling completely at peace because maybe that would mean we are done. the story is done once we reach ‘happily ever after’.

and no one wants to be done.

so we keep looking for holes to fill – not just us as individuals, but us as the human race – so we can keep having something to do, something to head toward, or at least something to complain about, something to cry about, something to do something about other than close the book and say ‘the end. we have achieved a state of imperfect perfection. we are now done.’

the aftereffects of ocean waves

i stepped on a puddle and drowned
and my head is underwater and i’m looking around
and all i hear are familiar sounds of wind chimes and children so
i sing and pretty bubbles come out of my mouth

infinity.

please don’t leave me. i’m so scared.

silly child. i’ll still be here. we’re all always going to be here.

what do you mean?

answer me this. what do you think we’re made of?

…i don’t know… skin and bones?

haha. that’s just our temporary container. something to hold what we all really are.

and what is that?

energy.

energy?

that’s what we are all made of. energy. and do you know something about energy?

i know nothing about anything.

energy can never be destroyed.

then… where do we go when we’re… gone?

well. energy never disappears. it only transforms.

transforms?

yes. changes form. sometimes, we’re skin and bones. sometimes, we’re balls of air. sometimes, we’re a spring breeze. but we’re still together. all of us. in this one, giant universe. that’s constantly transforming.

but… how can i see you again? how can i talk to you again?

you don’t have to worry about little things like that. the world is so much bigger than all of these little things. what matters is that we are not gone. we are never gone. we’ve simply changed. but we’re all, always together. every little thing that you see. we’re all part of one big, everlasting, ever-transforming, infinity.

including you?

including me. including you. us. we are infinity.

dear dandelion, you are

and i think one of the most beautiful things just might be
spring breezes in the summer
warm breezes in the winter
serendipitous surprises just because
just because you are who you are
and, love, this is all you ever needed to hear
orange lullabies and bedtime stories we still hold dear
and the sparrow chirps back when its babies call
the flowers dance even as the nights they fall 
because someone out there just maybe, really knows
how this story was meant to go, yet
that doesn’t stop us from hoping, holding, making wishes
turning just any other dandelion from weed to wings as
the spring breeze blows even as far north as we are.
and ice-cream and stickers that glow in the dark
and animal hats and cake and wandering stars 
still do sing, truly. so he takes her hand, truly.
and i think this just might be one of the most beautiful things
this life this love this everything in the everyday this
just because you are. you are.

labels. (excerpt from “the art of breaking”)

labels.
as soon as we grow up, we get labelled.
stamped, dated, labelled.
birthdate. time. place. weight. height. worth.
name.
an arbitrary name we have no choice in, yet it becomes
something so intricately woven into everything we do
for (usually) pretty much the rest of our lives

as we grow, we accumulate more and more labels
likes. dislikes.
school. program. skills. talents.
derogatory terms. categorizing terms.
brands we wear, bands we love.

our personalities end up being boxed into these few labels
some others stamp on us. and some we stamp onto ourselves.

and that’s what we become.

enclosed and contained within our own selves,
taped and packed and labelled.

not yet. just now.

aahh, stumbled upon one of my old poems from when i was about fifteen or something~ ^^

---

stop squinting and looking into the far distance
what you can’t see
    you [don’t think] of
look at what you can see
    what’s here with you now
look up at the sky
breathe in the wind
don’t search for meaning [beyond the horizon]
stay in the here.
        look at the now.
no back.
no beyond.
        look up.
                to your feet.
        look to the side.
                beside you.
        at me.
        at us.
        m e y o u
                allofeverything.
        [everything is here.]

yes. im not leaving (yet).
                                not “yet”
                                just “now”
i’m here (for) now
                                what “for”
                                just “now”
in my head
        [i]
think of what i didn’t do yet
                                not “yet”
                                think “now”
i think.
    of what i will be thinking of.
when i go.
                                “will be?”
yes.
                                no.
yes. i will be –
                                no. “will be” is not “now”.
        [am]
i am.
                                you are.
i am staying.
(for) –
                                what “for”.
                                “n o w.”
i am staying beside you.
                                you are here
                                in this
        [content]
                                moment.
                                now.
everything is here.
now.
                                [now].

novel excerpt.

she reads a lot.
but novels, not so much.
she likes poetry because poems are often not about
tim or tom or daisy or doll
they are about you.

it’s like reading a song where you get to pick the tune.

and in these books, she found pieces of herself.
which was something so dear to her.

because so much of her was lost.

when she was young
she wore her heart on her sleeve
and gave out pieces of it to others
unconditionally
but they broke those pieces and left her
and now she had these holes in places she couldn’t reach
and if only band-aids could fix a broken heart

a couple questions.

would you say your life was more fun/enriching during your childhood?

if yes, what is it about life right now that makes it so much duller than it was as a child?

( just another novel excerpt – working title: to be happy )

or (it might be weird but) i want you to be happy. [working title]

---

so, so fleeting.

 

you have to keep moving, keep talking, keep working

or else they forget.

 

one by one.

 

they all forget.

 

“there is no break from this prison.”

     that’s what he told me.

“this wonderful prison with gold walls, and silver mirrors, and admiration in the form of obsession”

     i didn’t know. i don’t know. i will never know.

“they put you up on this pedestal. but the legs are made of cotton balls, and the seat is made of wood, not brick. everywhere you look is sterling silver imitating gold. fake smiles and empty words imitating soul. the windows aren’t glassed, they are just bars; bars with gaps just wide enough for tomatoes and bullets made of words and burning lights and hatred. judgement. criticism. lies. lies. lies.”

 

but they don’t even know you. i plead.

 

and he just stares back at me.

 

i don’t mind.

i don’t look away.

 

until he finally adds:

“and what makes you think you do?”