Sometimes thinking about you,
can make me wonder about whether I made the right choice.
Is it better to let the veins grow tall to the clouds,
or should I dig them deeper into Earth
where they’ll be secure enough from foreseeable cruel thorns?


Someday’s Dreamers

Waking up
next to the undergrowth,
we grew up from the soil,
shooting high to the sun,
making a mess of our lives in the turmoil,
even when the real incisions haven’t begun.

Soft grasses sway the grounds
that summer our feet.
Autumn never carried us too far,
from whatever we run off to seek.
We coerce our hands to clamber the evergreen,
so we’ll never stop blooming fantasies
consumed with our cold tears that fuel the dead spring’s saplings.

We’re someday’s dreamers;
I’m sure someday we’ll be believers,
but not today
because we’re aren’t finished yet
coming up with scenarios for yesterday’s festivities.

The losses, the pain, the winnings, and the shame
turn golden brown the longer they stay in the sun,
while we wish for better tomorrows
and summon the youth that stung
our bodies grim into a
period known as

An Intricate Ending

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Turning on the string lights inside your head,
a shade of lilac gloom begins to glow.

December speaks with hushed tones,
carrying the pressure of your pondering.

You reminisce about the new year in a new light:
every memory, every spark and somber cloud.

Racing thoughts insulate your head of whether
you’ve accomplished enough to please the world.

The waves of your pomegranate drink
don’t give you the answers to questions you crave.

Yet, you stare into your glass nevertheless,
looking for some kind of solace.

One minute until midnight,
you still feel stuck upon a land far, far away.

As the curtains close on the last fifty-two weeks, you smile
raising your glass, knowing that it will somehow be okay.


Happy New Year everyone!! 🎆😀🎉