your plutonic vision
I imagine, will capture me in your light.
I hope, will conspire to let our love unite.
tangled are the mysteries and the hopes of life
but we strive to stay awake through to the dawn of life.
I wonder if you have already been the one for me
and I wonder if I missed the moment when the moment had finally
and I wonder how today could be different
I stepped out my front door three seconds later than I did.
and I wonder if you wonder, and I wonder if you wonder about
the things I dream about.
I wonder if you try to be within, and without.
I wonder if you live life like my ambiguous words and
and moving metaphors.
I wonder if you feel depth the way
you have wondered about how it would feel like to feel death.
I wonder if you think about being one with the world,
about loving without judgment
about forgiveness, and compassion
and how it could be simple and tangled all at once.
it feels like
it feels like they call it evolution
with the suggestion that we are moving forward.
it feels like, within these four walls of my comfortable life,
the terror and horror so apparent in this world isn’t even alive.
it feels like we become educated so we can contribute to society
but instead, our main purpose becomes to contribute to our own legacy.
but it feels like, with seven billion people
your legacy is barely just a partial fragment of the bigger work in progress.
I feel like, if each speck of paint were to separate and focus
on making its own masterpiece,
there would be a wall of incompletion and empty white spaces in the middle
instead of meaning and purpose and unity.
so I don’t know why, after all this time and history behind us
of seeing how violence and wars have done no good
do people still participate in self-harming activities.
people like terrorists, people like soldiers, people like addicts, even people like you and me.
because really, the harm you do to others
is the harm you do to yourself
is the harm you do to me
is the harm you do to the world
is the thing that stops us from moving forward and being free.
stars through my skies
talkin bout how you know me so well
how you see the stars through my skies when I can’t even tell
what I’m looking at right in front of my very own eyes
so you think you know me to the point where you see past the demise,
shit if we all walked as much as we talk, we’d all be size zeros
and if we stood up for someone slipping, we’d all be someones hero
and if the age lines that show the days and battles behind us
could be marks of beauty and wisdom, maybe women like me
and our mother’s wouldn’t feel the need to hide them.
and then there’s love that society tries to burry, too
I don’t know if it’s your religion, your age, your friends, or just your point of view
to think that love is bound by walls of gender
just like buses and trains and water fountains for you, but dependent upon your color.
so you think our value is predetermined? why don’t you let us decide for ourselves
and if you think a book holds all the answers, cross the street without looking right or left.
who am I to tell you what’s right and wrong
who are you to tell me to blindly follow along
outdated traditions and expectations and cultural norms.
let’s just let ourselves decide
because you can’t fit into my shoes, and you sure can’t see the stars through my eyes.
dreaming of old faces like they’re still ours to dream of.
I don’t really think about you very much anymore at all
but the other night I woke up gasping for air,
from something like an amalgamation of a dream and a nightmare.
and you were in it.
and it was so strange because I was so surprised that you were in it.
I think for a minute it felt like you were back in my life and we were friends again
and it felt unbelievable.
and it was strange, but you apologized.
you looked me in the eye and said you were sorry for everything,
but instead I said it was the wrong time and place,
that you were a few years too late
and I suddenly felt a rush of anger and anxiety gushing through my veins
and I woke up gasping for air.
finding that none of what I saw and felt was actually
and I felt perplexed, not knowing whether to call it a dream or a nightmare
not knowing whether this was a sign that I was moving on
or a sign that pieces of you would always live a tiny corner of my
open your heart.
otherwise, your stories and dreams and vision won’t get far
enough to reach the moon and touch the sun
and hold the love that you know well, but do not trust.
let go of the fear that binds you,
let lose of the love that lost you,
forgive those who left you with wounds, but keep what they taught you.
keep your faith in the goodness of life,
in the beauty and the magic and everything bright
be brave, be giving
be honest with yourself.
if this was the last page, how would you want it to end?
I’ve never been very good at leaving things behind. I tried, but I have always left fragments of myself there too, like seeds awaiting their chance to grow.
even within myself, I am filled with tangled complexities
half in illusion, half in mystery
thoughts that pour in from beyond a land of reality
and skin that feels so real and raw and tangible
and throughout these complexities is one function
one being, one light
that shines kind of like the sun and the moon and the stars
but brighter than everything combined.
even within myself, I am filled with tangled complexities.
I am a function of this world, but maybe this world is a function of me
and maybe we are one of the tiny specks of sparkle that
combine to make the light.
but from the solar system to the soul,
there is such immense beauty in every strand of tangled complexities.
what about it?
how does it become that the people we love and trust become the people we fear to look at. how does it happen, that we begin to avoid the thought of the person, avoid writing about it, avoid admitting that we’re thinking about it.
how does it become ok for anyone to change in such a drastic way that they begin to forget to show respect or honor towards people they used to love.
how is it justified. and how is it fair, for the other person to feel what they feel after a broken friendship.
forget about the part of it that didn’t work out, forget about all the expectations and the broken promises, and the changed feelings. I don’t care so much about that…but what about respect and friendship?
what about dignity. what about the fact that we deserve to know that we’re cared about, even if we aren’t loved by the people who have impacted and affected and touched our lives. what about that?
got into Goucher College, American University, Lake Forest College, UC Santa Cruz, UC Davis, UC Riverside, and UC Berkeley.
I have never been more excited and confused and filled with contradicting emotions about where I want to spend the next four years.
so conflicted as of now, but hopefully time will help me decide.
but on the bright side, OMG IM GOING TO COLLEGE! OMGOMGOMG
infinity and beyond
maybe you were the love of my life
and you had always been the love of my life in all of my lives..
and so I’m starting to think that I can suffice
without you being by my side in this one.
because, the way I see it
if you truly are the love of my life,
you will be the love of my life
through matter, energy, space, and time.
through everything that separates love from being one
through everything bright and dim,
and infinitely, my faith in that love will be enough.
it will be more than enough, it will be beautiful and significant.
I think it’s weird that I am multiple people and characters and dreams and personalities and emotions and blood cells and still one person.
It surprises me.
Because I know myself, and I know that sometimes I over-think or gossip or get superficial or impulsive or impatient or show signs of qualities that I know better than to be.
But I also know the side to me that is good hearted and honest and genuine and caring and spiritual and adventurous and giving
and I think that what I need to practice doing more is being the better version of myself, and recognizing others to be as human and multi-dimensional and capable of improvement as I see myself to be.