Tag: self reflection

Paper mache heart

An empty heart can still be seen,
making the perfect mold to cast over.
Strips, unevenly torn, of red and pink—
the bits I kept that meant the most—
are lightly brushed over
with a blended mixture of
wishful thinking and tears of “I Love You.”
Decorated with ribbons, bows, and lace,
helps keep everything in place.
They overlap,
trying to cover the pain
from “We’re Over.”
It’s how I see my heart—
the perfect gift
for myself.

Remember Me?


You remember me?
Probably just a mistake in identity.
There’s no book to help cross-reference reality…
Just breathe… One… Two… Three…
I know I am someone to somebody but I’m nobody I can remember.

Was I a kind and caring person?
Did I ignite their pain with misconception?
Why can’t we make the distinction?
I didn’t mean for this to happen…
I wish I can tell you but I don’t remember

This is a finished and unfinished project, depending on you see it.

My Biography

Flipping through the pages of my biography,
I noticed there were a few discrepancies.
I never fell in Love
I don’t live with an “Us”…
Since when was I content
with not having enough?

The writer wrote in ink—
staining my memories and violating everything.
Who was the writer?
Did I hire a liar?!
Maybe I should’ve gone with
someone with more desire.

After years of waiting,
I have to start all over from the beginning.
Each year births a new me,
concepts change—constantly.
I guess it’s time to rewrite
my biography.

How I tell time

Do you worry about the
seconds, minutes, and hours?
I never knew that a clock
had such time-consuming powers.

This is how I tell time

The length of cigarettes
to give me a chance to calm my stress.
Drinks with friends,
enjoying each other’s company before it ends.
Cussing and swearing to my heart’s content.
I can let loose those fucking words, but just for a moment.
Laughing and smiling when things go wrong
because I know I won’t have a chance again when it’s all said and done.
Getting lost in a daydream,
witnessing what I can achieve.
Procrastinating on things that need done
when a nap sounds like more fun.
How much it takes to recover from laughing so hard,
knowing damn well that it was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!
And how long it takes for tears to dry
after a very painful goodbye.

Can you see why
I don’t let little hands tell me the time.
It’s said, “Time waits for no one.”

I beg to differ.
Life waits for no one.”
Still not convinced?
Take some time…