24/30


After failed attempts to vomit your discomfort

You crawl back to yourself

and wait for your words to perform surgery on you

Something has been breaking off inside you

You are made of your mother’s resilience

and your father’s quiet sturdiness

You do not understand why your body cannot shake this off.

Savior complex tied up with fear of vulnerability

and a poor diet is another way of dying

There are no smart guides for dummies who

should know better than to try fixing themselves

You should know better

to make room for faith to be sang back to you

Everybody needs saving

even Jesus had God.

23/30


A love recipe hangs down my mother’s neck

She loves without needing to refer

Because muscle memory and regularity

has synced her heart with her mind

and made her a metaphor for softness.

Whenever pain blurs the shape of love

I look at her and remember to breathe

22/30


My parents love in sepia

A thing brewed from the slow decay of a new sprout

Seasoned and mature enough to have a feeling named after it;

Teaching me that decay is not always synonymous to rot –

Only a point on the growth curve.

Because this brown has seen tender and folded

This brown has been foolish and free

This brown has feigned sufficiency to make way for enough

This brown with its share of pain and scars,

Knows how to love the glow out of any sun

 

21/30


I have been fretting over things that God shakes his head at

Toying with faith as if it were a disappearing act;

One minute I’m full of it,

the next, I don’t exactly know the shape of it

I fret over now and tomorrow

Giving myself and God a headache.

Spoon feed myself faith,

And come up hungry again.

I have taken up all the space on my mother’s prayer sheet

And the happiness of those I love takes up all of mine.

At the end of day we’re both in God’s ears

Saying let it be

After every free speech

20/30


I’ve been speaking to God about you.

Told him you’ve been wearing apathy

as a defense against loss

Loss of love,

Loss of control,

Loss of the innocent child you used to be.

Told him the way you create distance

to test the elasticity of bonds is breaking my heart,

And breaking yours too,

even if you refuse to accept it.

Told him you carry nonchalance like a chronic cough,

Shackle meanness to your tongue

and only put it back in your mouth after it has lashed out.

I’ve been speaking to God about you

And even tho he knows I’m full of complaints

He lets me ramble to sooth my restless mind

18/30


We smile at how alike we are

And I wish I could keep us in this frame forever

This moment of warmth and content,

Of enough vulnerability to be open

Enough happiness to forget that

a shared tomorrow doesn’t belong to us.

In between the silences there are imaginary conversations,

where we share without pause or thought

Where we hand over our random and calculated without fear.

But we’re in this moment of penciling in our individual futures

And learning that love doesn’t make null our different realities