At Midnight, The Bell Rang

​I think what I feel, right now,
Is the quiet reverberation of words,
As they echo
Ricocheting off the walls.

The mug on the other side of the table,
Still empty.
But it stays there
To simulate the end of a conversation.

Words keep coming back.
They chase tunnels after tunnels
They are trains on the tip of my tongue
Like medicine before it is swallowed.

“Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.”
I know that now,
So come back to me.
The silence just keeps getting louder.

The other side of the table,
Still empty.
Like the other side of the bed,
To gather dust and lost words.

Trains keep following me.
The tunnel doesn’t ever end.
The words are not like medicine.
At least medicine takes away some pain.

I think what I feel, right now,
Is mercy from you,
As you walked away I noticed an echo of your vanishing ghost,
Ricocheting off the walls.

You flew away that night,
Like you said you would.
I just wish we had more time
I wish we had more

VI

vi

For the girl who loved him, and hated me for loving him.

His footsteps are earthquakes ringing in my ears,
And adrenaline runs higher and higher with every step.
There is a rush that comes with freedom, with anti-gravity,
One that only I can know.

And you, half-blind, scrawl curses into my name,
Wishing for something you cannot have,
For the thing I refuse to let go of,
Not to posess but to protect.

Continue reading “VI”

Note to Self

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Inspired by “Notebook Fragments” by Ocean Vuong

Older boys will kill you, mother said. I believed her.

Today I met an older boy. I’m terrified of the man I love, even though he’s the only one who believes me.

Close the door, daddy said. Turn off the lights, daddy said. You’re wasting electricity, daddy said. You’re wasting money, wasting water, wasting space, daddy said.

Listen to your dad, mommy said. You know you’re his jewel, his princess, right? Mommy said.

Note to self: The people who are killing you are also caring for you.

Continue reading “Note to Self”