In Your City

Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN: https://www.clayliterary.com/post/raven-issue-seven-08-30-2020

eyes squeeze shut all at once with
wishes whispered under breaths to be
anywhere else, anywhere cooler than

the constant heatwave of near 100 degrees.
Toes dip into makeshift sandy beaches
along the city’s river while children

play in water fountains next to erected sandcastles.
But here in my city, it’s another monotonous
day. I am wide-eyed making 11:11 wishes to be

with you in your city, your heatwave, along your river,
walking the streets when it’s your midnight.
My sweat drips waiting for you to wipe it away.

I’m waiting for the days where we open windows
to a gentle breeze and kick away the sheets for relief.

I wish it didn’t sting

I wish it didn’t sting
when rejection tears apart
what I’ve poured my heart into,
hidden emotions or fragments thereof
painting scenes that tiptoe quietly
or outright screams.

I wish it didn’t sting
when he doesn’t think much of me,
but rather holds a love
kept at a distance that silently breaks
both of us apart.

I wish it didn’t sting
when correspondence stops like
a drought after the flood,
after love cascaded faithfully
to comply with the dream.

I wish it didn’t sting
when I hear his poetry;
the voice that gets to the depth of me.
And I realize all those lustful moments
and longing nights have ceased.

I wish it didn’t sting
when my daughter looks to me
for answers. Her big eyes searching
for meaning and I come up empty;
I’ve got nothing.

I wish it didn’t sting,
when all I have
is nothing.

the loudest sound

vibrations reverberating
emitting from within and all around,

complementary yet opposing
reaching higher into the stratosphere,

returning one by one
striking through bone & marrow

which ones do I block out?
which ones do I hold onto?
which ones do I let fall to the ground?

I pick one up in my hand,
hold it close to my ear
as a shell echoes the sea
& let it whisper all its truths to me

Rising Waters

soft rolling waves
brushing the shoreline
come hurling. warmth

that used to make
your blood boil makes you
recoil deeper

from all that you
have felt and long to
feel. digging deep

into the sand
to push it away,
you recoil

into yourself.
this was not part of
the plan; moving

to the city
to be part of the
scene, only to

find you’re constantly
sinking.

Call It What It Is

Heatwaves radiating across the country,
common occurrences every summer
now occurring every season.

Summer stretches long into Fall,
makes a cameo during Winter
And begins earlier every Spring.

It’s a heatwave, they say.
No, it’s global warming.
No, it’s now called climate change, haven’t you heard?
No, that’s all fake news.
It’s only a heatwave, you see.

Varying heatwaves from place to place,
it’s unheard of in cities without air conditioning.
And now 130 recorded in the middle of Death Valley,
it’s a long streak of near-death experiences for everybody.

Sure, tell them it’s just another heatwave while our friends melt in the sweltering sun.
Tell them it’s only a heatwave when the final glaciers breakaway.
Tell them it’s only a heatwave, I’m sure they will soon believe.

If I love You… — forgottenmeadows

We are more than sunlit afternoons
And carefully crafted love letters,
More than the poetry and the art we create…
But in this moment of playful banter,
When you ask me if I love you,
I squeeze your hand
my heart still flutters
When you squeeze back.

For more, please follow Forgotten Meadows

We are more than sunlit afternoons And carefully crafted love letters, More than the poetry and the art we create… But in this moment of playful banter, When you ask me if I love you, I squeeze your hand my heart still flutters When you squeeze back. […]

If I love You… — forgottenmeadows

sing to me

sing me a song at every chance,
with every glance
capture me with your smile,
make the lyrics repeat in my head,
let your tone send shivers through me,
and when I hear the first notes,
let that song send me back to you.

Where does it hurt?

*trigger warning: depression*

It’s a walking numbness, a dull pain
that sometimes presents itself in waves.
It slowly builds, and one day, every few weeks it explodes.
I can’t bring myself out of bed.
The rolling tears subside for a moment only to build again and again.
The world outside, and the family inside, doesn’t exist, only what’s happening right here.
Only this pillow, only this blanket, only the thoughts of love so far away, always out of reach.

‘You should call someone, snap out of it.’

But you don’t.

They say to dig deep to find the root of the pain.
Where does it hurt?
When did it start?
Is it constant?
Does it hurt when you hold your body in such a position?
Does it hurt when you turn your insides out?
Do you cover your pain with a smile and ‘I’m fine’?
Does it ceaselessly carry weight under your eyelids?
Does it pull on you with every chance, every second of the day?
Does it numb you from climbing out of bed?
Do you answer ‘yes’ to every survey question regarding depression?
If ‘yes’, please proceed to your nearest healthcare provider immediately.

Isn’t it all just a sham, a system to pop more pills, to pour money into pharmaceutical companies
to keep you addicted to a drug that causes side effects, and more pills to alleviate such effects?
All the more pain to bear,
more hurting to just barely keep you together.

So I resist, and insist ‘I’m fine’.
It’s only a bad day, it will pass.
Until the next set of waves crash.

Hold On [with audio]

*spoken word*

somewhere deep in the night
we share our sweetest desires
you and i 
holding each other tight

miles and miles far away
confusing night into day
ripping off each other’s clothes
how we long to be so close

yet this is us for now
we’ve got to make it through somehow
for one day soon you’ll see
you’ll be holding me

you and i holding on
lost in another time
we’ll make it through another night
just sit back, enjoy the ride

this is us right now
we’ve got to make it through somehow
one day soon you’ll see
you’ll be holding me

and when that day comes
you’ll walk up to greet me
nothing else will be seen or heard
only our kisses will do the talking

so we’ve got to hold on
because one day, 
one day soon you’ll see
it’s you with me