Saturday, October 31, 2009

Day 103: done

i dont want to write

Friday, October 30, 2009

Day 102: 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


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

Thursday, October 29, 2009

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
you can see my skin crying
in every place you managed to forget to touch
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?

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

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

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Day 99: Mr. North Star

We are the ones we’ve been searching for

Through starred maps


And yet constantly we find our selves in this continued search


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

Monday, October 26, 2009

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

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Day 97: my brother

My brother is a big man

My hero


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


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


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


for me

But lately he’s been sporting a new mantra


He claims to be a broken souljah

And it breaks me to hear it

Because he was always

My man of steal



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


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


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


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


one whose eyes refuse fear

but you do not have to be


do not have to stand alone

stand in front

we can be


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


And changes

Some things ALWAYS remain

Do not be afraid


In the end


I promise

As your little sister

We will both be happy

And it will be okay

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Day 96: WHite HOuses

vanessa reminisces on snap shot pictures in memory lining
trying to find an image that doesn't break ribcage when held to chest
did she realisize how fleeting friendship could be
that the innocence she held in her bones
is only held in the similar blood stream of peers still sleeping in white houses
of daughters still counting sheep
today jenny started counting dicks instead
counting down seconds
counting mistakes

there are skeletons that dont fit in our white closest
in our suburban cultasacks
cannot be held between the spaces of our picket fences
we have forgotten to outline our own skin
so we place ourselves on the streets of our own misplaced attention
learn to apply thick enough lipgloss to mass the taste of blowjobs
our daughter are turning red with the years
learning to count days backwards to purity like it was something that made us who were were
how have we forgotten how to hold on to what makes us beautiful

Friday, October 23, 2009

Day 95: My Jeans

my jeans have tears



but they are beautiful


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


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....

Thursday, October 22, 2009

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

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

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

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

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

Monday, October 19, 2009

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

Sunday, October 18, 2009

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?

Saturday, October 17, 2009

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


when in reality

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

Friday, October 16, 2009

Day 88: diluted


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
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

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Day 87: fire and rain

October 14th 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










A father Left alone



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


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?

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

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
barely audible
forced into sleep
i am black

not held
not whole
damaged goods
at night
i am remembering
everything i have lied to forget

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

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

Monday, October 12, 2009

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

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Day 82: not a poem

she will stretch these muscles for dream of yesterday
tear he heart
leave it on any stage
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.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

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

Friday, October 9, 2009

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

Thursday, October 8, 2009


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

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

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.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

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

Monday, October 5, 2009

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
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...

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Day 75: Almost too busy to blog

there is overcommitment bleeding form my skin
a poem a day for a year
soccer games and practices
and friends
and loves
make friction
my hands are splintered
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

Saturday, October 3, 2009

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

Friday, October 2, 2009

Day 73: dance

She's only ever going to smile half heartedly
Like a broken chandaleir at sunrise
That how everyone loves her
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

Thursday, October 1, 2009

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
they are the same
we are selfish
hoarding culture
like birthday wishes
its your turn
pick something amazing
you may never get another chance.