Tug of War

Sometimes the blood in your hands is the only thing

that shows you you’re still alive.

It tells you that red is the color of love.

That sometimes love likes to play hide & seek.

That sometimes,

you will keep searching for that love all night,

but never find it till the next day.



I wanted to be like rain

and I did.

I showered everything

but couldn’t dry out the floor.

I stayed there while things grew out of me

and it hurt

to be there and have things grow at the same time.



I once had a conversation with an atheist,

i told him,

i know what it’s like to cut off something that’s supposed to be there

but it’s not there.

Like love and light.

Love, once came as a form of god

it taught me something about light-ness,

then it turned to darkness and disappeared.



I will take the sun in my mouth

And whisper to the words melting down my throat

that sometimes that’s how i like it, that’s how

i keep myself to myself.

I will keep the words that’s supposed to make

sense make sense in a no man’s land.

I am in a place where things are always burning,

i keep reminding myself that remembering

is simply another way of sinning.

It is a crime against your already bruised soul.

I call myself ‘The expert at the fall’

because leaving had always felt like

arriving arriving arriving

back to myself.