Graveyard of ex lovers

Their magic, dissipated all’s left are bones the earth holds their long gone echos their names, a mere faint memory history, forgotten curiosity, dead heaviness, empty their remaining existence a clutter

Blinds

Everything’s back to normal, just like the way it used to be I just came out here, with my heart soaring with thoughts of what goodies I get to explore while tranquilized by the stripes of the blinds. A trusting girl, who breathes with her mouth closed. So many choices right now. This cell phone

Baby daddies

Looking back, I think about all the guys who could have been Like that guy in my high school Who quietly carried my backpack for me, while I was in-between lightheadedness From blood loss and menstrual pain And loneliness  

Missed connection

Hi. I was nine years old during my stay at the hospital from a broken leg, and you were probably around that age too. Per request, the nurse brought in a Nintendo to my room for me to play Mario Bros. II one day, and you joined in to play. I was the mushroom and

Kicking rocks for no reason

I remember when I had an epiphany that I would ultimately forget again. It was during one of my first jobs in an office as a collage student. That job was where I had gotten a taste of the adult working world. There was a creepy mathematics dude who used to always stop by my

Mr. Mock

It just came to me out of nowhere, but I think his name was Mr. Mock. He was the gym teacher who made elementary school ten times more fun, especially for extremely playful kids like myself. Why would anyone want to sit around, study, and get lost in messed up thoughts when you could be

To be like him

The ride down the lane; down the tube like straight roads of my memory. Blurred visions outside of lights passing by amid the darkness. The lack of conversation and the lack of memory of the few brief things we talked about. I was too consumed with comfort of a ride home from the place I

The smell of anxiousness

Bring back those anxious feelings of my childhood: the distinct smell of dry noodle mixture and seasonings inside the chemical smelling 80’s plastic lunch box. Bring back these feelings of isolation and fear of differences, the fear of rulers and authorities (teachers), and the fear of rules and systems that used to cage me within