snippets of a life

i like a boy

he plays drums during football games

he wears sweaters that feel soft against my skin

he is not popular, neither is he obscure

he is thoughtful and quiet but also

loud and excited

while i am a talker

with him i love to listen

i write poetry, words in my veins

he does complex calculations in his brain

he is tall where i am short;

ice while i am fire;

patient when i am impulsive

when i look at him warmth spreads

in my chest, filling up empty channels of

my being, in the same way

that pride does, that joy does,

that love does-

i think i like this boy

-

i used to know for sure

yet that changed in time smaller than a hairpin

i used to know for sure

what i wanted

what i would dream

what i wanted to dream

conviction is not for me,

for me in my head

no matter if it seems to be

anywhere i go

i cannot help but think

why was i on the brink

of something that could’ve been

my greatest

mistake

or my greatest feeling

in the moment

driving back from the game

staring back on the dance floor

laughing about things that we hate

that’s when i felt the greatest

i was trying to tell you

but you ended up being my weakness

used to think angels surrounded you

planned my days all around you

though i made a wish on elevens

though i made a wish on my birthday

i was lost until i left you

and then i found what i used to be

-

i like to read old emails

to see who i used to be

sift through years of poetry

flip the pages of

slanted handwriting

i am addicted to nostalgia

it is evident in the way that i

save old movie tickets and countless letters

storage plan to keep my pictures

maybe it is because i cannot make sense of my past;

i have not yet understood who i used to be

-

i have not yet understood who i am now, either

i don’t know if i ever will

occasionally, i look at the sky

and i know inside that

it’s the same sky i see

that you see

do we think about it

the same way?

and i guess i still

don’t know

who i am

because then i would not wonder

how you are

how you feel

how i’m so much happier

how i’m so much sadder

then i would not

need

to care

only care for me

yet though i wish i could,

i cannot

because who am i?

-

salty tears and sweet relief

bitter throat and raw screams

we describe terrible things

with adjectives that deserve to be used better

our minds are collectively a mess

scattered from the west coast to the eastern seas

wonder if i’ll find mine one day

but for now i’m just fine without it

adhd diagnosis

bitter relief

years of conditioning has made me believe that

you are weak

but i am happy that this helps

some semblance of life

make sense

-

arm in arm

hand in hand

heart to heart

you make me redefine love

I miss the simple days

Where laughing was laughing

And smiling was smiling

Where did we learn to look into such things

With such scrutiny

With such carefulness

-

sometimes you remember

remember what it was like

to be young, to be free, to be wild

to be happy, to be sad,

and simply to be.

what happened to me?

we are no longer happy and carefree

will we ever get that feeling again

those golden years

were perhaps

not always so golden