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It seems like this tree has been here forever, with its expansive roots and wrinkled limbs.
But really, it was a sapling yesterday.

One branch is hard to miss.
I imagine one day it pointed to the stars,
but as it grew a strong gust came and twisted the branch.
From then on it grew downwards,
unbeknownst to the rest of the tree.
Had the trunk understood what tragedy struck, it surely wouldn’t have poured its energy and
nutrients into such a distortion.

Down the branch grew, away from the stars and the sunlight, until it rooted itself straight into the
ground.
Of course, now the trunk must have felt the pain.
The novelty and the permanence of it couldn’t be ignored –
right?
Yet still the branch grew, down and out with beautiful, viral speed.

As I look closer, more cracks and dents in the wood are becoming clear. I wish I could ask the
tree which one hurt the most.
I think this tree will die soon. And what a shame it will be, this tree,
that once looked to the sky.

at 29 she had
children who loved her
unconditionally
a mother who’d do
anything for her
and a sister who’d kill for her

at 29 she had
nieces who were
inspired by her
and nephews who
looked up to her

at 29 she had
a family who
awaited her recovery

and at 29
she took her
last breath

even though
her death was
incredibly tragic
there’s a lot of things
you can do in
29 years

at 29
you can live a carefree life
you can dance without displacing a hip
you can get married 3 times over
you can bleach your hair
without the youngins saying
you’re going through a midlife crisis

she’ll forever be in my heart
she’ll forever be 29

I am dissolved, not dismembered
I am a mind, my soul an ember
My heart dies when I miss you
My soul holds you like glue

I never really understood love
So I bought a book hoping to find something to be a part of
I failed. I still don’t understand it
When it comes to love I’ll always be a misfit

When it comes to you..
I haven’t got a clue
You were so loving, caring and kind
But when you left me I realized love was blind

A gaping hole was left in my chest
It wasn’t until you left.. That I realized I was obsessed
Dangerously so, my mind cracks when you’re not there
My eyes search around for you, daring to stare

When my eyes land on you.
You’ve found someone different,
Replaced me.
Threw everything away like it was nothing

I feel dull, disdain, angry
Like something important ran away
Left me without a second thought
Left me feeling undeserving and useless

Staring at you feels like poison
But I can’t resist
Just one drop for my thirst I can’t quench
Love me again, let me suck in all your toxins
Dissolve my soul like you’ve always wanted.

all my life no one seemed to care
men would look at me
as if they cared

those people who would be like
“oh can i touch your hair?”
and the answer is

no you cannot touch me
no you cannot judge me
no you cannot rub me

in any way, shape, or form

no you cannot hug me
no you cannot love me
no you cannot take me

anywhere

but what you can do is
respect me

use your eyes for
more than undressing me

disrespect me again
and i’ll give you a vasectomy
to your future children
may they rest in peace

you speak to me
a human being
as if i do not deserve the right to breathe

i understand that in this country
you have the freedom of speech
but watch the way that you speak
to me

Plucked like an unripe peach
From where it clings to its branch;
You can’t blame me for being bitter
Blushing fruit
Dangling before your eyes
You must’ve figured
It was yours to take.

After years of searching,
From the Scottish Highlands to the deepest jungles of Guyana,
You’ve found the unicorn in your very own backyard
She stands with long blonde hair shimmering in the late afternoon sun
You stare in astonishment
“Where have you been all my life?”
And to your surprise,
She speaks
“Pretty day, isn’t it?”
Her eyes are deep and soulful
Wide and fixed on the slowly setting sun
If you look closely you can almost see her retinas burning
But if she’s in pain, she doesn’t show it
A gentle smile graces her soft face and her slender arms are folded behind her back
This woman, everything a unicorn should be
And then some
So why,
You wonder,
Has she hidden herself this long?
Why would she allow no other to bask in her stunning beauty before you?
“No other?”
She scoffs
“Many men have “basked in my beauty” before
Though they didn’t consider themselves men before a beautiful woman
Stallions before a unicorn
They considered themselves conquerors before an island”
She extends an arm
“Do you see these?”
Dozens of golden bands chew lazily on their own tails and constrict her wrist all the way
up to her elbow
“Every man who has ever shackled me,
Told me who to be
And how
And why
Now rests as metal on my flesh.”
There are more bracelets on the other arm.
“Every man who has ever cut a piece of me”
She lifts the side of her shirt to reveal sutures wiring the remains of her stomach shut
“Now must keep it
And endure the rotting stench of what once was my heart.”
You are unwavering.
“These are the words they have spoken, marked neatly on my skin. Every time they call
me slut, whore, bitch, I draw another line.”
She rolls up her jeans to reveal legs blackened with ink.
You are unwavering.
“I will not always be your friend,”
She says.
“There will be women too.
They will wish to slash and stab and bleed you dry for the injustice they see in your
soul.”
You are unwavering.
“The world does not want you.”
It will cast every stone, brick, and bill at you to keep you out
To keep you down.”
You are unwavering.
She turns her gaze away from the bruised orange sky to face you.
“All that, and more,”
Her milky eyes well up with tears.
“And you still want this?”
You are unwavering.
She sighs.
“Then go forth. Wake and face it all another day. You are fierce, you are strong, you are
a woman
And you always have been.

∫_(-∞)^∞▒〖〖Crimson rays〗^(-〖 penetrate〗^2 ) mind〗

=[∫_(-∞)^∞▒〖〖I witness the moments〗^(-x^2 ) dx〗 ∫_(-∞)^∞▒〖〖when love loses its face〗^(-y^2 ) dy〗]^(1\/2)=

[∫_0^2π▒∫_0^∞▒〖and in the wind ⅆrⅆθ〗]^(1\/2)=[π∫_0^∞▒〖〖I release〗^(-u) du〗]^(1\/2)=√(the words my heart misplaces)

In the quiet of the night, where whispers fade,
A final breath is drawn, a life unmade.
The weight of years, a burden too profound,
Surrendered now, to silence so profound.

Yet in the dimmest dark, a spark ignites,
A journey new begins, beyond the lights.
From ashes cold, a tender shoot emerges,
A soul reborn, where eastern dawn surges.

In bustling streets, where cherry blossoms fall,
A child awakes to life, so light, so small.
The past a distant echo, soft and faint,
Yet deep within, an artist starts to paint.

The colors bright, the winds of change do blow,
A youth in Asia, where new rivers flow.
The ancient soul, now in a tender frame,
Finds peace in breath, yet whispers of the same.

In every step, a memory, a trace,
Of lives once lived, now gone without a trace.
Yet hope prevails, in every beat, each breath,
For life renews, transcending even death.

In every sunrise, in each drop of rain,
A silent song of joy, and of pain.
For in the cycle, endless and profound,
Youth in Asia finds where life is found.

So let the poets write, in rhymes, in verse,
Of endings, beginnings, the universe.
For in the telling, a truth is realized,
That in each end, a new life’s disguised.

Things are lost but not forgotten.
Once the womb dispenses of you,
every second, you are losing something,
a wiser woman once taught me.

And as the oak trees grow.
and my lungs carry oxygen,
I learn this truth over again.

Things are lost, or are they forgotten?
Are they still here when they are in the crypt?
Are they still known once the brain forgets the word for it?

Your bones grow, and with that comes those nightly aches
and during those moments of sleep and wake,
you lose something,
you forget something.

Does anyone escape life without something taken, something put to bed?
We pray in the early hours for what or to whom we have said farewell (obligingly or not!)
to rest in peace; rest easy.
Even in the tears,
Even in the holy war of grave digging
and tearing of petals,
you live on and with time,
you learn to lose and forget.

But the body always remembers.
The body never considers what is gone as permanent.
Things, indeed, can be lost or forgotten,
Or simply misplaced or staggeringly unbeknown–
But the body is the source that tells the tale
and keeps it close even when it is six feet deep.