Day 252: For Clara

i could taste the dirt on my tongue

the way the air thickened as we neared it

i didnt quite understand why we were driving there

but we did anyways

she would tell me

jamaica,

the big island is much different than honolulu

especially up here

i still didnt get it

that there were sacrifices that these people were more than willing to make

like simply driving to the dumb with your trash on your own

there were bigger things too

things she never had time to teach me

they were beautiful things

the laws i would need to know in order to grow beautiful like she was

i didnt know yet to listen hard

i didnt understand

not yet

that cancer

the threat of death would take her forever and i would just be left with questions

its been over 10 years since

and i still think about her every time i slow down enough to hear my own breath

i remember her touch

how her wrinkled hands felt against my face

she was so beautiful

i used to look like her

short curly hair

i've changed a lot since then

i look a lot more like my father

who looks like his

i am most easily compared to powerful men

i wonder what she would make of me now

this lost queer woman

barely christian

i am so much less of a person then i was when she left

and i know she loved everyone

but pride

pride does not stem from love

pride is different

its born from a different vein

chords

lives in a different space

if i told her the only thing that ever broke me as much as her departure was another woman

i wonder what she would say

if she would push my bangs past my ear

place her thumb to my chin

would she kiss me

say its alright, beautiful

i'm here

it's alright...

Day 251: Remember

I’ve never seen someone crack from a word

Shatter

At least not that one

Like she did

I saw her pupils split

Turn to oceans

My fingertips are still eroded from the salt

The rush was slow

But I saw the sea train down her cheek

Showing the tracks of past conversations

Lovers

Broken tongues and promises

Where the metal had scraped her skin free

Sometimes we forget to love the ones we love properly

Sometimes its easy to forget that someone had a past before you

Until you run right into it

Find your face flattened by someone else mistakes

their misplaced attention

And still you become the one holding your foot in your mouth

Your heart in your hand

Good intentions spitting through you

But Something’s need more delicacy than I can provide

My hands are rough

And strong

Sturdy

Sometimes I am not as gentle as I intend to be

My strength is deceiving

Some words run like oceans with out guards

And I’ve learned even the simplest truths need delicacy

So the next time I speak

I’ll funnel my words straight to your heart

Where it’s safe

Where you can hold it

and remember

Day 250: maybe

my hands are still shaking from holding you

unsteady

the way i let you fall and break

i will never forgive myself

and since

i've taught myself how to not love you

not want you

it hurts to much

i moved on

and it hurts to say

cuz moving on means leaving you behind

and i never thought i would

or could

but i have

and im sorry

sorry that apologies dont do shit in this situation

that i cant bring myself to hold you anymore

that my attention is already held

im sorry i cant be the one either of us needed me to be

i was too weak

and couldnt let my mistakes make me stronger

instead i had to learn from them from a distance

but i'm growing through this to be the kind of person you could respect

the kind that follows through

and maybe giving up is how to start over

maybe throwing everything away starts the process

maybe youll always have my back and ill always be the weak one

who threw everything into the fire

maybe i'm just cocoon waiting to re-blossom

maybe i'll never be as beautiful as i was with you

maybe all the maybes are true

maybe they are all lies

maybe we both are broken still

but i've got better makeup

maybe, its just time.

day 249: sleepwalking

my sleep doesn't settle

it rattles here

under my skin

im missing you like i'm missing my dreams

and there seems to only be nightmares hidden in these walls

if only they could speak

im sure they would scream

and im sure i would shake

im sure fear would be here and she would bitch slap me

because she can

because im weak

i dont sleep

just wait for morning

and my body is always tired

and torn

and doenst move properly

i dont dance

beautiful

like you do

but ill stand in the shadow you cast

hoping to be tied to you somehow

maybe it will be like dancing til midnight

alone

in a dark room

on fire

with our heart tired behind our backs

our bodies merely sleepwalking

to pass the time til morning

day 248: perfection.

i spent the morning writing poetry to the horizon

i kissed the clouds with my pen

waiting for some sort of inspiration

this afternoon

im sleeping in Sabbath

tucked away in solace

my cave is warm 2 seasons out of the year

too hot for some

but my skin has become tough in this climate

ready for its abuse

the only scars i wear tell stories i'm not ready to share

so i cover my skin with poetry

dirty similes look beautiful at a distance

and this pain

taste like candy

trouble

like her lips

perfect

like her fingertips

we are all just too perfect to even notice

Day 247: winter

the bags under my eyes are heavy with the weight of two hearts hanging in the balance

my skin is dry

im waiting for the rain to come

but its spring

its supposed to bee beautiful

its march

im supposed to fall beautiful

but i feel skinless

and cold

confused

my answers all speak with inflection

as if in questions form

there is no right, wrong or certain

in this place

everything is hazzy and grey

like winter

cold

like winter

hard and lonely

like winter

its march

almost april now

and it still feels like january or december

are we are all being fooled from the inside out.

day 246: practice

i do not bend this way

my posture is crooked

my heart biased

i spend most morning curled in bed

pretending that my pillow is someone else

that i am someone else worth someone else

we are all waiting for someone to come o our rescue here in the meantime

we find ourselves breaking our bodies to fit into fetal positions

to make our skin feel like our hearts

small and compact

easy to forget about

to leave behind

we leave ourselves behind and hope to be returned to them in the future

or sometime more convenient

it all seems so much more simple in writing

i wonder what it would all look like in practice.

day 245: Forgot

If you look close enough

Everyone becomes a stranger

And in airport terminals

The pretty faces are the most foreign

We chase them like street lights

They’re the only things that make us stop like traffic

We watch the faces leave

And take the last bit of excitement with them

Somedays, I pretend to be one of those pretty faces

Strut talent like outward appearances

My beauty is deceiving

Your attraction

Obstacle illusion

You wont feel this way in the morning

We will just be strange faces held to memory

The next time I see you

I’ll ask you why you look so familiar

You’ll think it’s a pickup line

But really

I just forgot

Day 244: lost looking

there are holes here where we used to stand

the sand is eroding to salt

we melt in the sun

crack in the cold

we are fragile and find ourselves too weak to hold on to even ourselves

during this storm

we lose everything

that means anything to us

including our dignity

the parts of our hearts we once hid beneath our skin

so much that used to be here is now gone

and we are all just waiting for something

anything

however small it may be to return and remind us

who we were before and why we ever wanted anything so badly that we allowed ourself to get lost looking for it

day 243: /

the silence felt much better than this

the crevice conversation

the way our sentences pause mid thought

like a broken heartbeat

the wya we stop mid relationship

like a heart attack

we nearly killed ourselves through each other

day 242: idk

in the right light

fear can look almost beautiful

shattered in pieces

like the broken glass

we found wedged

under our skin

the discomfort in our uncertainty

sends backwards shivers across the ocean

and we wait there for the light to change

Day 241:deserving

today

i want you to hold me like the sunrise

like we have nothing o hide

like love is not an action or emotions

its a body

today

i want to kiss you like we are whole

and have never been broken

like the sunrise feels for the first time

today

today

i want to be bigger than this body

stronger than this heart

better than this skin

and this love

i want to be more beautiful than this pain

today

i will want everything i do not think i deserve

day 240: confusion

she was taboo

off limits

yellow tape

dangerous

science goggles

make experiments safer

but its hard to sleep with

so w toss and turn in the aftermath

during sunset

whisper secrets to each other

like we aer eachothers keepers holders

there is something toxic sitting in the horizon that holds us like we are safe at dusk

but by mid afternoon

the intoxication has cleared and we can not longer see through our confusion

day 239: sun

toxic sun kisses

break my back forward

break my forward back to the beginning

sunset is shining here like forecast is screaming your name

come home

and wait for the setting sun to born itself

day 238:

our poems mean nothing if we do not learn how to hold them properly

between your fingertips

lips

chest

in her heart

i hold my words

safeguarded ribcage

we trade pains like currency

DAy 237: frozen

she had lips that tasted like trouble

her fingertips were broken and frozen shut

like my chest

we sat their in suffocation for what felt like minutes

staring down each others awkwardness

our bodies were speaking in tongues

and we couldn't control it

so we held our hands before our faces

shielding our souls from the fire

holding our hearts when we could

trying to cushion the fall

the breaking

the way we soared heavy

we heave in bitterness

our lips are turing to candy

sticky

like trouble

and we are frozen in our footsteps.

day 236:

today

i played a guessing game with my 6 year old sister

she picks anything in the world and i ask her questions until i can guess what the thing is

i'd call it 20 questions

but shes insists on calling it guessing

today i realized my sister sees race like its a binary blurred in brown bodies

she said

its a thing

on your body

"what color can it be"

any color she replied

black brown or white

this poem isnt working out. sl;kja;ldsfjas;ldfjk;alsdfjk

day 235: in hawaii

In Hawaii

Children learn to show face at an early age

Keep their hands tight to their brown bodies

Color in the lines

The island is too small to risk saying the wrong words

Believing the wrong beliefs

We hide behind our inability to live up to our potential

Today

I am reminded again on how this island’s politics have infected our souls

and Our hearts break in the aftermath or indecision

For the first time since I was born

I am ashamed to be from Hawaii

Ashamed of what it has become

ashamed to be represented by a government

that is too selfish to show their politics on the matter of Civil Unions

as a means to protect their own seats

the silence in these islands is defaning

and our children are growing up thinking that ignoring a situation is problem solving

we know better than to think that this apathy is anything better than bigotry

we are all waiting for someone to step up and give up their face for what’s best for this community

you see

In better times, we would hope for good leadership.

But at times like these,

plain leadership will do.

day 235: retunring

it is cold
the smell
familiar
and unpleasant
the man beside me has harry arms
crocked teeth
he is unpleasant to touch
it is all unpleasant
i am tired
haven't slept well in months
but this seat is uncomfortable
unpleasant if you will
i am going home
the only way i know how
with dry tear ducts
an open heart
and a suitcase full of expectations
my baggage is heavy
walking this way is uncomfortable
i've got my music on my back
i wish i could play and sing and walk and carry myself to the curb
but i cannot
i go to the gym daily
but i am weaker than i have ever been
my bones are torn
it is painful most days
to exist
this way
i eat only when i am in pain
love only when i am drunk
or optimistic
it feels the same
my arms are open
i am retunring
the feeling in my stomach is less than unpleasant
but its good to be home

day 234: ending

But I am hoping

There is a 12 year old girl out there who hears this

And through these words knows that she is not alone

That’s its not just her and a god that doesn’t exist in this world

Both selling themselves short

Beautiful girl

There is a goddess under your skin

She lives there as long as you let her

And whenever you second-guess yourself

Remember

God is still breathing

If he can make it

So can you

day 233: for the house of representatives

In Hawaii

Children learn to show face at an early age

Keep their hand tight to their brown bodies

Color in the lines

The island is too small to risk saying the wrong words

Believing the wrong beliefs

We hide behind our inability to live up to our potential

Today

I am reminded again on how this island’s politics have infected our souls

and Our hearts break in the aftermath or indecision

For the first time since I was born

I am ashamed to be from Hawaii

Ashamed of what it has become

ashamed to be represented by a government

that is too cowardly to show their politics on the matter of Civil Unions

as a means to protect their own selfish interest

Shame on us all for allowing such hatred to exist—and for allowing others to think that their apathy translates to anything less than pure bigotry.

In better times, we would hope for good leadership.

But at times like these,

plain leadership will do.

day 323: in progress

James says some nights

He can hear Jessica tap dancing on his scull

She is easels paintbrush dancing on his memories

Rhythmic broken screaming in his eardrum

When do you sleep James?

When are your thoughts silent enough to dream to?

Does Jessica ever feel like a lullaby?

James the last time I held you

it was two hours until night

two hours until I could feel your mind flip

dive into conversations one after the other

with persons stuck somewhere in the space between your ears

dancing along the place where your thoughts use to be

james calls his mother dreamer

and she tells him at sunrise

there is nothing in the dark of your mind

but he

he knows she doesn't know what teddy bears turn into in the dark

at sunset

she only sees her son turned christopher robin holding childhood too tight

and jessica is the only one who never forgets to kiss him goodnight

sometimes james mothers forgets what name he answers to so she slings silent prayers to her son

knowing

there is no room for more voices between his ears

there is already too much clutter there

james whats it feel like to fear everything

the sound of your breath

your own heartbeat

are you ever afraid of your own reflection

convinced that you are not there today?

They say skitsofrania is is a mental disorder characterized by abnormalities in the perception or expression of reality.

But reality

Reality is not being able to sleep because there is someone tap dancing on your skull

Reality

Is loving your self so much that you don’t know how to survive the pain of no one agreeing with you

Reality

Is a 12 year old boy sitting alone at lunch

Left with nothing but his perception

Maybe we are all seeing something from the wrong angle

Maybe today james is sane

And we are all blocking out consciousness in fear of being too james like

Day 232:

tonight i slipped silence through my lips

thats what you'd think

whole

outside

i was broken

insides

screaming for you to see me

but my silence is only so deafening

ive never felt so unimportant

insignificant

broken

little

silent

but you wouldn't know any of this

you are as blind as i am silent

and nothing i can do will ever change that.

Day 231: you

its so easy to get lost here

in the pauses in our dialects

conversations

it almost feels embracing

til it breaks

cuts

sends steel shivers down spines

porcupine love

we've got it down

learned to hold each other at arms length

everyone is afraid of everything in this place

in a world where we die knowing less about ourselves when we are born

we are all lost

and those of us who arent are dishonest

so they really arent much better

we really arent as amazing as we always thought we would be'

and tonight that feels just fine

but tomorrow

tomorrow we will cry over our mediocre skin

how we wished to be more

better

whole

spectacular

it is easy to get lost here

in the pauses between your breath

breasts

where i slept last fall

listening to your heart beat

after beat

after beat

after beat

til it broke

...

it really is so easy to get lost here.

day 230: ???

why do we wear cultures like costumes?

Day 229:

i can almost feel the sand now

im wainting to go home

hold my sisters

where everything is alright even when the world is ending

home makes it betters

mends the fractures

DAy 228: waiting for something

sleep in my skin

it taste like salt

where its moist

waiting for you there

hold my chest to your ear

hear my heart

its there

my skin

salty

tste it

sleeping

broken

cracked

we are all wiating

for something

day 227: metaphor

a friend told me today that in ghana names have days

if i could

i would name thursday for the salt in the breeze

it is missing here

like you are

i would name you after all the parts of the ocean i miss

because like you

i haven't touched the ocean in months

its thursday

and im missing a lot right now

mostly the breeze

the salt

the water

and im not sure if that was supposed to be a metaphor for you

or not.

day 226: missing you means

last night

i cried for the first time for you

the tears came out like daggers

there was not release, just punishment

i am weary to say i miss you

not because it might not be true

but because what missing you means.

day 225: sunrise

wait for me in the space between the island and the sky

the broken horizon cradles us there

cracked

like babies

we can be the only whole thing in the universe

spinning ourselves thin

breaking ourselves whole

like love cared enough to hold us

we know we are our own heroes and enemies

just waiting to let our guards down

barely willing to be bigger than ourselves

so we are just wading in this horizon

til sunrise

day 224:

the sunrise taste like cotton candy sunrise

at least thats what i imagine

the ocean

smells sweet like candy

our sugar coated world melts in our palms

under the sun

this is the most ridiculous thing i've EVER written