Monday, December 28, 2015

This Christmas

This Christmas I stared at the sky for too long.
I stared at it through the day.
And then also through the night.
It was pale and lit, happy and sad.

This Christmas I cried more than ever before.
I cried remembering the things you say.
I cried imagining a brave, strong knight.
But it was a fantasy of mine, of a little girl-lad.

This Christmas I cried more than ever before.
I cried remembering all I have lost.
I cried of all the dreams I have watched be destroyed.
I cried, because sometimes I also feel so alone.

But this Christmas I also cried of happiness.
So many colors I have transformed into.
Some are nice, others new and uncomfortable.
Parts of me I have discovered, that you make visible.

But this Christmas I have expressed what I never express.
Cheerfulness that is way too new.
Things I tried to hide, for reasons of the dysfunctional.
So many corners of me that weren't in my layout.

This Christmas I noticed things about me I never noticed.
Qualities that you magnify to me in high definition.
Smiles that never seemed so delightful.
Unfairness-es of my past that now seem to be so okay.

I had treasures hidden in the remotest dusty places.
That I'm so sensitive, yet hardened by my life's condition.
Your love so gentle and so unbelievably insightful.
That life is real, not a novel, or some child's play.

I stared at the sky for too long on Christmas.
And so it fell on my lap as foggy marshmallows.
As I dug through it I found a glass jar of a broken forever.
The tag had your name on it:
4 letters, in cursive.

It smelled like Almond Joy and citrus,
Attached to it, some of the sun's yellows.
It was gift wrapped by you, no doubt whatsoever.
Contemplating as I sit:
All of it together, yet so dispersive.

And so I received the best Christmas gift I could have ever imagined.
In a place so alone, thinking that being alone would be tragic.
For a moment I closed my eyes to feel close to you.
And there it was, the sky on my lap brought me a present.
The most simple gift wrapped glass jar, with a broken forever.

The bottle emanated much adventure and passion.
I tried putting together what was broken, with potions and magic.
I cut myself trying, with the facts and the truth.
So I sealed the jar again, with permanent cement.
And so, a broken forever is the best gift I will have for every year's December.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Simplicity

Simplicity at its best:
A leaf falling from its branch
With no dismissal or dispatch
Flowing with the breeze
With such tenderness ease
Shadowed by twerps and bees

Simplicity at its best:
Stretching out in the mornings with singing alarms
And two bronze sun rays coming out of your arms
Yawning at your wrinkles in the mirror
When your face flushes at your glorious errors
Getting startled for your life when danger is nearer

But even simpler than that:
It's so effortless to stay with you.
So easy to hold you.
I can fluently be yours.
It's breathtaking to love you.

Friday, December 4, 2015

Our Beanstalk

There's a beanstalk so tall and torn.
It can touch the sun and tickle it's core
It reaches for sunsets, eclipses and more
It's strong, stubborn, and hard to explore.

This beanstalk was planted in front of my back door.
My back door is cracked, green, and poor.
It's peeling it's leaves, it's hurting, it's sore.
It needs a touch of love, of grandeur amour.

To climb it, you skip, jump, and soar
To grow it, you cry rivers, thousands you pour
To plant it, you realized this is not an after, but a before
You tell yourself, this isn't mine, never was, nor yours.

But then you cut the beanstalk.
It's gone, forever nevermore.
No hello, no winks, no meeting, or small talk.
It's gone, a battle paused, the unfinished love war.

Such beautiful tallness, to climb or to cut.
We climbed it half way, abruptly stopped.
You dropped my heart, it fell on the floor and it cracked.
I climbed down to pick it up, but on my way I collapsed.

I can't keep climbing with all the agony of shards in my heart.
It throbs in desolation from all the emptiness in the dark.
I reach out to find a lamp, a lighter, just one spark.
But you left me there. I'm alone, all alone by our beanstalk.