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Poems
Holes in the Wall
Words
They are fickle like friendship
They can build confidence like cranes and skyscrapers
They can also tear it down like sand towers and waves
Only that the ugly side of words
The very bane of its nature
Seemed to manifest itself more than its kind aspect
Words
They cut different than sharp razors and keen blades
But when they cut
They cut deep
So deep the intangible wound feels palpable
Mama used to tell me
Words are a powerful tool
And a double-edged sword
They are the remedy to melancholia
The cure for all despair
The guiding light in times of distress
But when you use it like a weapon
It’s like poking a hole in the wall
Even as you pulled the pencil out
The hole remains
Hollow. Taunting.
Her
As I crept up the creaking stairs
To the man that stole my love
That very man
My heart was cold
Owls screeched
Pussywillow rustled
Bats fluttered under the caliginous sky
My shadows taunted me
The chandelier hung
Dangling with broken strands of crystal
The stairs squeaked under me
And my emotions turned into stone
Under the poker-face I put on
was my shattered feelings
Buried deep
So deep I feared one day
I would forget love and hate
The dagger felt cool in my hands
But I held firmly
For the devil had taken me
Had possessed me
I stared into its vitreous beauty
My grip tightened
There was no other way
No other way
I pushed the door open
There they were
Sleeping soundly
My love and a beast that had taken it
As I raised the blade to end all the misery
To mend what had been long broken
To obtain what had been long lost
I hesitated
And my will faltered
Images of prospects flooded my mind
Of the future we could’ve had
But I knew
From the bottom of my heart
They would remain intangible
Like the golden, fleeting gleam
Of dusk’s last rays painted against the lilac skies
I could feel her bee-stung lips against mine
Her soft, beguiling whispers
Her gentle brush like smooth silk
And her mesmerizing, emerald eyes
I looked back at her
Yet I did not feel anger nor jealousy
Instead my heart was laden with
Rue
The knife shook in my hands
As my inside melted into entropy
Into uncertainty
I was the lovestruck beast
I lust for just a fragment of her love
And to embrace it
There was no other way
Only to take it with me
To an uncharted world of possibilities
A world where love is secure
A world where love is not fickle
The ultimate panacea
I held the blade
This time with firm finality
But different from before
I did not feel hatred but rather relief
I sighed and thrusted the dagger into me
And smiled wryly
Because I learned something
That love is more cruel than death...
Fish
Fish
They see the same, cobalt sky as we do
Just through a different lens
Snakes
They’ve got feelings, too
But we deem them as callous beasts of malice
Asians
They are still people, in the end
We ain’t no virus
What makes us so different?
Yet as the man
Blinded by hate and judgement
pulled the trigger
On these hapless women
He didn’t think a second or two
Nor see them as his equals
Tear of grieve cried dry
Mourns of grave sorrow sounded
But never will these souls be brought back
Death is death. Irremediable.
We scream and cry for our opinions to be heard
But silence prevailed
Ignored
Hopes of a kinder world thronged my mind
But I pushed them away
You see
I am just a kid.
And I have got better things to dote on…
Fish is a poem dedicated to the shootings in Atlanta and the ongoing Asian hate crimes.
I love writing poetry because I enjoy how it breaks a complex idea into simple lines.
Most importantly, poetry makes me happy.