Day 103: done

i dont want to write

Day 102: Moist

Moist

Sliding upwards through skin

Watered back broken fracture

Have your tears hardened yet?

Learned to hold your ducts like broken mothers

Snuggle against memories

Like daughters learn to be held by the hearts of their fathers

Where do we begin

And when do we start living

Again

I miss the way you used to look at me with something other than disgust tattooed to your pupils

I’m still bent backwards from actions I cant dare want to take back

Day 101: Worth it?

there is silence written into the hidden secrets you kissed into my wrists

cuts grazing skins like promises that are not meant to be given or recieved

you can see the torture writing intself to my memory

if you look close enough

sometimes

you can see my skin crying

in every place you managed to forget to touch

suffocating

these are the part of my body that are broken

feel them

how my skin turns shark hard to your fingertips in fear

how my voice shatters in your presence

this is not nervousness

this is survival at its best

there are pieces of stone implanted

into my fingertips from trying to tear down walls

ash in my hair from bridges burned

these are the games we play without hearts

our lungs

beatbox broken

fingertips break dance on the hardwood of our souls

trying to caress something more significant

and what if we come up empty

what if all we ever do here is forget to remember

was it all worth it them?

the cold blood on skin

the dirty fingernails

the broken hearts

if we do not remember any of it

did it really ever happen?

is it actually worth it?

DAY 100: Confusion.

I can still taste you on my skin

Feel your breath here

But late at night

I find my self

Sleeping in skin that suddenly feels more foreign than ever wondering

Where is your mind

I cant find mine either

Its lost somewhere under

Actions and metaphors

Sinking in regretless water feels kind of like hanging yourself with your own veins

I’ve got scratches on my chest from trying to hold myself back from passion

Stretch marks between my breast from a heart growing too large for my skeleton

My skin in ripping at the seams

And I cant seem to hold my thoughts close enough to reason to make sense of either

You see

I left my integrity under your sheets

Along with my loyalty

Have you felt either yet

Day 99: Mr. North Star

We are the ones we’ve been searching for

Through starred maps

Constellations

And yet constantly we find our selves in this continued search

Motion

We cant stop moving

Can’t stop breathing

Dig deeper

Find roots in the skis transformation and follow them upward this time

There is no need to dig

In our past

Our future lies above our heads

Not Under our nose

We have been found

We just have to open our star sunken eyes to notice

DAy 98: no one told me you could break your own heart.

if a hammer hits something hard enough

its not hard for it to shatter

did you find my limbs underneath your sheets last night love

my torn fingernails from biting them off my hands clean

i shook last night for 6 hours straight waiting for the sun to rise

waiting for the pain to settle

i tried to hold you in my eyelids this morning but you werent keen in staying there

i let you run through me today

ill let you do it again tomorrow

as long as its still you

as long as we are still connected somehow love

i'll cry you every morning noon and night

just to feel you somewhere

just to keep feeling

Day 97: my brother

My brother is a big man

My hero

Protectorate

Role model

And I’m more than fortunate to have him

He’s scared away bullies and unworthy boyfriends

Kept away nightmares monsters and all that comes with them

But I’ve never been blessed enough to say that I’ve ever been there to protect

him

Even though we shared a room until he was 13

because HE was scared of what might be hiding in the dark

I know he’d do anything to protect ME

We share scars and stories to explain them

Of times when our actions were less than smart

But it was always okay in the end

And we always found the end somehow

Together

But The end has never been longed for

like this before

Whether crashed in the back of a car, drowning at pipeline, or stupidly surfing at makapu’u when the forecast promised ten feet

The end was always better

Because in the end

Duncan always kept me as safe as he could

And if he couldn’t bring me to safety

He would bring safety to me

You see sometimes I’m stubborn,

And weak

and ignorant

But Duncan is wise

when he wants to be

most importantly Duncan has always been

strong

for me

But lately he’s been sporting a new mantra

Title

He claims to be a broken souljah

And it breaks me to hear it

Because he was always

My man of steal

Unbreakable

Invincible

and so Never did I expect that a womans words would be the final weight to break through a dark skinned warriors ribcage

And place a black demon called regret on his heart

And allow its poison to sink

I learned a lot from my brother

He thinks I’ve learned more from his mistakes than his accomplishments

But I don’t think he understands how much of his life I see to be a success

I’m proud of him

And feel blessed to be able to learn form him

But this is one lesson I wish I could of learned from someone elses tears

Or accomplishment

You see

My brother and I had the same upbringing

But somehow in the future I found myself afloat watching my brother sink

And we’ve both had our fair share of heartbreaks weight

But he’s been my tangible proof that I should be more careful with the heart of a man

I never new a man could break.

And I’m ashamed to be of the same image to crack the marrow protecting the soul hidden within the beat his chest sings

Oh how his chest used to sing

But now its only screaming silence

Praying someone might feel the earth tremble when depression half heartedly solidifies

For water to flow through tired eyes

Duncan,

My brother

My dark skinned warrior

I can hear your cries

And I’m trying to be the hands I was born to be

to catch each tear before its echoes erodes the floor beneath you

Causing you to sink

Duncan I’m sorry

I’m sorry I was born second so you had to be the one to test the waters

To kill the fire

To take the trail first and allow me to follow

Im sorry I was born a step behind so I was able to hide while you took every punch life decided to throw

Duncan I’m sorry

And so I try

Fight

I strive to step ahead of you so that maybe I can start to shield you from life

But my stride is short and steps slow

But believe me

I’m trying to be your big sister

Even if age tells me I should stay bellow

I know

That sometimes

A big brother needs someone to hide behind

And I can be that

I know I seem broken

but I swear I can fix you

And though I know two halves don't always make a whole.

sometimes half a heart just stays half and hurt

I refuse for you to follow suit

Because you are better than those who wrote the rules

You are Duncan

My dark skinned warrior

Kamakanaonakuahiwi

Our gift from the mountains

The gods children

but most importantly

you are my brother

We are family

Born of blood that birthed eyes never scared of their vision

kamakawiwo’ole

one whose eyes refuse fear

but you do not have to be

one

do not have to stand alone

stand in front

we can be

two

or more

we can stand stronger as family

na maka wiwo’ole

I know the future is scary

But don’t fear the end

Remember Duncan

The end was always happy

And though the world laughs

Sways

And changes

Some things ALWAYS remain

Do not be afraid

Because

In the end

Duncan

I promise

As your little sister

We will both be happy

And it will be okay

Day 96: WHite HOuses

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Day 95: My Jeans

my jeans have tears

rips

imperfections

but they are beautiful

comfortable

know me better than any other clothing i wear

i take them everywhere

just like my friends

they appear to be past their time sometimes

and yet

i can't bring my self to leave them behind

so i just keep stitching and patching

but needles hurt

and my aim is crooked

so all im doing is hurting

everyone

i wish i were better at creating than destroying things

you see you can't mend jeans while you are wearing them

i've tried

you cann't mend tears in friendships while you are still stuck loving them

and i can't leave either behind without feeling naked, alone and empty

so im stuck in this limbo

wearing my pain on my legs and sleeves

everyone can see im broken and breaking the things aroudnd me

i'm sorry

i'm sorry for the things i've done to break and tear you

for not being careful when running with sharp object and cutting corners

i always find some way to unintentionally snag you on the table and then i just continue to tearing trend....

im sorry i dont know how to live in one piece

i'm sorry

trust me

i'd fix you if i could

but i still think you are beautiful and even more comfortable with the imperfections

if only we could all learn to live with them....

Day 94: Rot

we've got powdered bones

plastic hearts

thinned blood

rotting at our irises

feathered fingernails

ripped at the seems

truth or dare?

ill call your bluff

dare you call me beautiful looking rotten

like the backhand of the devils heart

dare you kiss these scissors lips

dare you tell me truths

like we are 13 playing spin my shattered bottles

7 minutes out of hell

pretend there is no world around us

=dare you call me beautiful now

Day 93: Tidal waves

shes got a smile like tidal waves

makes you believe sinking just might be beautiful

that drowning is just another way to look at falling in love

that being broken

is the only way to pick yourself back up from the ashes

the only way to live is to love and i'll go under just to breathe

look at my smiles

do they look like scars

do they feel like honesty crawling on the back of your neck

whats me breaking smell like

does it taste like dwindling ashes

or am i an ocean

just swaying back and forth and going no where in the meantime

will i always be stuck in this current

because currently

ive got cuts forming from my inability to decide my own movements

gravity works in every direction

and magnets

they dont get to choose who they are attracted to and yet

never complain

just kiss away their strength until left hopeless

whats it look like when one magnet doesnt kiss back

is it possible to break the pull by being cautious

or are we all doomed to love and not be loved until we are loved

and whats it look like when we finally give up?

does it look like a tidal wave

like someone is sinking today

like her smile

does it look like a suicide

like an ocean

like love

is swallowing us all

alive

DAy 92: not enough

no hunger lies in your eyes

no disire for anything more than sunsets rise

we are broken dreams and promises we never intended to keep

like forever can last as long as this moment

what if tomorrow

i woke up dead

Day 91: Take me home

there is no longer any more dirt under my nails

no more sand in my scalp

the taste of ocean breeze has clense itself of me

my tan is fading

there are no other hints to prove where i've been

and i'm still unsure of where im going

my roots have become lighter and shorter by the minute

i want to replant myself somewhere

but im not used to the dry air

i am thirsty for something that might quench my heart

take me home

to white sand beaches covered in white tourist

i dont care

just take me home

tonight i want to pretend i was never here

DAy 90: Mistake

i remember when your heart was in my hands

i've been looking for it lately

i misplaced it somewhere between leaving and returning

i must of dropped it

i hope it landed somewhere soft

im sorry for the scars it must have left

do you think you'll ever trust me with it again?

Day 89: Cold

We take shots like pinky promises to late night pledges

Sleep on unscented pillows

Pretending loneliness is the same thing as being cold

so we don’t have to feel like we are missing anything but covers and

walls

when in reality

we’ve got enough of them both and not enough of each other

Day 88: diluted

one

step

ahead

from

yesterday

and

me

youve got plans for healing im sure

taking the steps you need

but do they have to be in silence?

what about the friends left off shore in the distance

there is regret laced within your breath of conversations

i can still hear it sometimes

late at night

lately

you only speak to me in status updates

wheres the justice

the unnamable connection

if we are deeper than bone then why is it that oceans can dilute our friendship

i have nothing and so much to tell you

and the phone lines are empty

i hope you call me

for someone so afraid to be forgotten

you sure are soon to forget

Day 87: fire and rain

October 14^th 2009

5 and a half years later

im still looking for enough piece to fill this puzzle with

I am afraid only ash still remains

I am still looking for things to fill the space with

There is still a whole in my sister heart the size of a 7 year old best friend

I wonder with each birthday if she cries in honor of one missed by jasmine

I’ve got no more space for pain

So im throwing questions to demons I have forgotten to pray to

To make room for the suffereing to settle

Locked door

Fire

Silence

Ringing

Love

Buzzing

Broken

Heaven

Together

Survival

A father Left alone

Husban

mother

How does it feel to be god?

Did you find 2 daughters

burning bedside prayers

sending smoke signals to angels

these girls are still babys

too young to grow wings

what will become of their undeveloped dreams

will they receive a halo to lynch every nighmare with

jesus

will you welcome these girls to your gates

only to leave there mother at the bus stop

regardless of whether or not she screamed prayers of forgiveness into your flame

burning bushes of commandments

tho salt not kill

but she killed them anyway

is it murder

if its done to take away the pain

is it still wrong if she cried every night looking for another way

another answer

did she not cry hard enough

What does you heaven look like

Can you taste silence on the tip of your tongue forming a smile

Can you feel our tears like raindrops on your back when we cry for you to come home

Have you remembered how much you loved the rain before it drove you to side with flame?

Day 86: at night

at night i am everything i fear

i am broken hawaiian dreams

dark skin

one night stands

dry lips

short tongue lisps

i am broken

hidden

barely audible

forgotten

forced into sleep

i am black

boxed

not held

not whole

damaged goods

scared

at night

i am remembering

everything i have lied to forget

DAy 85: music

we made love like the moon

fell for each-other like sunrise

i never slept in your arms the way you did in mine

only laid awake

where did those dreams go

when we fell into silence

how did it feel to have you heart touch the surface of the earth

scratch like vinyl

make music

did you feel like signing

or suffocating

day 84: short and sour

sing to my fingertips,

my chest.

go away,

dont leave me.

stay here,

hold me.

i dont want to be touched...

im just waiting to be moved.

kiss me harder

touch me softer.

hurt me.

baby just hurt me

Day 83: integrity

I can still taste you on my skin

Feel your breath here

But late at night

I find my self

Sleeping in skin that suddenly feels more foreign than ever wondering

Where is your mind

I cant find mine either

Its lost somewhere under

Actions and metaphors

Sinking in regretless water feels kind of like hanging yourself with your own veins

I’ve got scratches on my chest from trying to hold myself back from passion

Stretch marks between my breast from a heart growing too large for my skeleton

My skin in ripping at the seams

And I cant seem to hold my thoughts close enough to reason to make sense of either

You see

I left my integrity under your sheets

Along with my loyalty

Have you felt either yet

i wonder,

When you sleep do they scream during your dreams

Day 82: not a poem

she will stretch these muscles for dream of yesterday

tear he heart

leave it on any stage

field

its all the same

but he knees

not nervous

shake on green turf sidelining games

this is not a poem

this is my life

and making a metaphor out of arthritis and fractured dreams

wont make living it any prettier.

Day 81: pray with me

crossed fingers

oil lathered

fore heads

before loves broken

lets pray

to night

maybe wake with the sun

praying to us

DAy 80: cold

cold rips skin like sandpaper fingertips

like i used to love you slightly more than i do in this moment

but tomorrow i will love you more again

Day 79: INSTRUMENTS

these songs that we have forgotten to sing

pulse in our veins like they were our own

but we know

lyrics and drop beats come from geneologies and raindrops

our mother passed these songs to us through breast milk

nurtured our hearts with her strength

promised us nothing but full stomaches and souls

and that was enough to know that

we are the vessels

the instruments

the strings

the vocal chords

vibrating in unison

hoping that

our actions today

and our history

can be the difference between what is and what will be

today, we will remember to sing

Day 78: wedding

She stares hard

i think shes trying to see the self she wishes she was in me

but i am not a treasure chest

just glass

why is she not smiling

he virgin white lace lay low on her brow

why does she not smile?

did she know this would not be love?

the air is cold

condensates on my face

i leave only regret and metallic puddles behind

im trying to cry to reassure her

but i have no ducts for tears

i can only cry if she is brave enough to first

why does she not smile

im tired of holding this expressing

i cannot hear them ring

but wedding bells shake behind her

inside me

today was supposed to be happy

why is she not smiling.

Day 77: reminder

She sleeps 2000 miles away

i'm sure she doesn't live there

because i can still feel her in my skin

within the beat of my heart

can taste her smile

today i was reminded

that we do not do our tongues justice

the language we speak doenst fit in our hearts and

the truth makes our mouths awkward

im not warm anymore

but her poems still sings me into consciousness some nights

reminds me of friends over seas and how friend doesnt begin to describe certain people

certain people we born to be connected

but we've found ways to cut our stems

rearrange our roots to grow awkwardly in other directions

tell me

tell me you hear my breath in your dreams

sing my similes to your heartache

tell me there is still a fighting flower trying to grow in our garden

and that maybe

we'll be close enough soon to create something other than faded poetry and memories

Day 76: going blind

we stare back at each-other like we should know each-others names

but we dont

we only hold each-others hearts backwards

know each-others skins

road map

skin graft

take this tumor off my hands

its malignant and reminds me of your soul

whole

never broken

sometimes soo warm it feels cold

like late night homes

hold me like last week

in between pages of poetry

like broken vocal chords never knew how to sing

teach my voice to phantom itself to sleep

to fasten new wings on each word

we stare back at each-other like we should know our names

but we dont

we have forgotten

everything but a face

and whats that worth we we're all going blind anyway...

Day 75: Almost too busy to blog

there is overcommitment bleeding form my skin

a poem a day for a year

poetry

auditions

soccer games and practices

girlfriend

and friends

obligations

and loves

colliding

make friction

my hands are splintered

tired

break under the pressure of rope made noose

i want to fly

so i'll hang from this suicidal rope of responsibilities

aren't i beautiful

Day 74: my two cents on women

I come from a nation where women are mass produced
And lesbians come born with labels
Stained and branded in vegitarian feminism

Sent from my iPhone

Day 73: dance

She's only ever going to smile half heartedly
Like a broken chandaleir at sunrise
That how everyone loves her
Shattered
So they can feel aconplished while pretending to put her back together
Our relationship wa a elivator
Slow and unclimactic
No music
Almost silent
Just harmonizing heart beats
And a cadence of ribcage
We sang sometimes
But most often we would just dance

Sent from my iPhone

Day 72: Inspired by April Chavez

"we learned to be stingy with the horizon"- (April Chavez)

hold it like our mothers last kiss

like lovers on our lips

learned to hold everything we touch

like broken bones and vocal chords

turn our sunrise to sunset without giving up the day

we learned to posses

with these white fingernails scraping the decay from our surfaces

her

crevices

they are the same

we are selfish

hoarding culture

like birthday wishes

its your turn

pick something amazing

you may never get another chance.