under fire
i was always taught to never play
with fire
or id get burned
i grew up letting people
light my birthday candles
and blow them out
because i yearned
yearned to follow the rules
safely enjoying myself
without getting hurt
i didn’t want to fall a fool
when everyone told me
to be weary of fire
they must have forgotten to tell me
to be weary of you.
i’ve always been so literal,
i didn’t know that a quick heat
could erupt
from a person
causing me a love so visceral
i couldn’t see it coming
like the quick spark
of a match
i didn’t know when to start running
but i knew better
i knew that when fire was around
i should stand back, leave
but you provided me with a heat
i never knew that i would need
so i stayed
filled my days with your glow
letting the warmth fill me up
finally making me feel whole
i questioned, why,
why was fire so bad?
it gave me light in the dark
and a warmth ive never had
i laughed at everyone,
no one has a clue
at what fire can really do!
but i was left a clown
when you changed your hue
you no longer burned red
but rather a deep blue
touching me
and charring my heart
turning it the same color
as you
the fire grew bigger and
the burns deeper
i couldn’t escape the inferno
now love is just a burn
i no longer wanted to know
i blame you for it all
i never wanted to play with
fire
until i met you
now i learned my lesson
and won’t ever let my heart burn
for someone new
family odds
My parents were dealt a difficult set of cards. I should’ve known I was their favorite when they passed down their legacy. Every queen in the deck missing its crown. Every joker taunting me with a pointed finger. Every six yelling at me because at that age, I didn’t behave the way they wanted. Every eight telling me in just eight short years, I am the worst kid they’ve ever met. Every ten teaching me to accept I will never be good enough for them. Passing these cards down like my grandmother’s treasured heirlooms. A bourbon-soaked accessory to keep by me at all times. A chart that I can’t get rid of no matter how many times I try to throw it out. Because my parents got a shitty deck of cards, I learned to play their game. I was just a kid after all. They taught me how life was born from a game where I constantly played 52 pick up, trying to get their cards in order. Until slowly, their cards became mine and I became them. But I chose tequila over bourbon. Learning to point my thumb instead of my finger. Because we can’t choose the hand we’re dealt, but we can control how we play the game.
The Countdown
do clocks have a way
to lie?
their face and hands
ready to
deceive my eyes?
they tell me it’s only been
a year
then why does it feel
like a century
since you were
here?
i was told
time heals all wounds
yet, 365 turns around the sun
and
somehow
im still not over you
i texted you a few
weeks ago
and you never replied
i guess clocks aren’t the only ones
who lie
because you told me
you’d be here
forever
and we were just
taking a break
but aren’t breaks
supposed to have
end dates?
i guess that’s
the thing about time
makes a year feel
like forever
and that
“a break”
doesn’t mean goodbye
maybe i’m the fool,
covering your
face with your hands was
always a tell,
using me as your
tool
i know it well
wondered where you
learned it from?
i guess you took
some lessons from time
because you
both use your
faces to lie
to mine
underneath the mask
I remember when I was given my first mask. It was mid-July and I was freshly 7. Staring in the mirror confused, I wondered what provoked this random gift. I mean, Halloween wasn’t for another 3 months. And why did it look so much like me but… happy? A strange gift that seemingly appeared with the wind. I tried it on and it fit so well, gave me a sense of peace I had never felt, so I stored it on my song notebooks next to my Hannah Montana poster. Little did I understand the irony in storing my new mask next to my favorite pop icon who would leave her own life and change into someone everyone adored. Yet, my new prop sat lonely for days, slowly collecting dust. Until one day I got yelled at for putting a shopping cart away wrong. On the verge of tears, suddenly, an angel appeared to give me the mask and everything hurt a little less in that moment. so I started taking it everywhere. Like a diabetic needs insulin, I didn’t know how to live without its’ security. But years passed and somewhere along the way the mask left my pocket and stayed plastered to my face. It belonged there, the same why my nose and eyes did. It was for the best because, by the time I was bullied, I never felt it but could focus on the struggles of my siblings being bullied. It was for the best because when my aunt died, I could help everyone deal with their grief before considering my own. It was for the best because… it was the only way I learned how to live. Over the years, the mask shifted. I needed the best grades to compensate for worse mental states. I needed to be the first in and out of practice to force my coach’s focus on my craft instead of on my injuries. I ensured I was “nicely” dressed and make up done for therapy to compensate for the sadness in my eyes. The mask lives on my face with the same crafted smile. It’s the gift of protection life hands down for us. We all wear the same plastered masks, some with smiles, others with tears. But the truth is, no one knows what’s behind them. All we have in this world are the masks we wear and the stories we tell behind them.
broken candles
i hate to similarity
between my birthday
and puzzles
being broken into a
1,001 piece set
by 10 am
as i quickly remember
that it continues
to be the loneliest day
of the year.
no one puts a puzzle
together with other people.
so i carefully try to put each piece
back together alone
to feign the joy
others anticipate me
to exude
on this “special day”
but there’s nothing special about it
i am always missing a piece or
two so i never feel fully put together
until the 24 hour
dread ends and i give up
on reflecting how ive had this puzzle for
a whole year
yet never accomplished it like i
thought i would
no one truly cares how i am
they just care how i look, put
together, and drop the act the next day