'Who am I' she asks : A creative explosion of paradoxical remarks the student replied.



The name we call first,
warmth served to what I found
the most sincerely flawed abundance
that we could only ask for
no more but your unconditional love
in motherhood.


Will it change, do you think, that someday
I may look up from the kitchen counter and you won’t
be able to read my smile to know; somehow our thoughts may
transcend human words when we can no longer speak
the way we used to.



If it’s indeed true that the outset of our thoughts
brings about real life consequences, such as told
being the law of attraction, then it must be true.
My thoughts would have brought you here. A slight bend
away ago you may have passed me by, but if it’s indeed true
of the infinite ongoing parallels of time and reality,
this crevice in randomized time was the beginning of
your realization in my life.



The state of being
happy, goes so fast. It turns weeks into
seconds only, as if you could see hence a foreword
to the good things.
The preclude makes it bearable that way, in the
meanwhile, all the while we live
day by day.



Those nights seem infinite, when you’re feeling
restless. Missing out on all the universal signs, you’d think
it’d be more clear cut. The night is impassive to your search, it says
a change is to come by confused winds.
Dispelled by the morning light; have you found it yet?
What you were looking for.



Would relapse be those mornings I wake up too soon
to find that you were on the cusp of my imagination.
It seems to make more sense before I confess aloud
these longings that seem so ridiculous now.
I feel like I’ve been drunk or high,
but what it really is, is to wake up;
you’re not here anymore.

Too Soon


“I believe in love. Even if you say
so otherwise.” You’re a skeptic though and I know.
“People simply give up too¬†soon
to figure it out.” The whole basic algorithm we’ve been
asking for is a simple equation after all.
You keep persisting.

Younger Now


I can’t remember to tell myself enough to not fight against
the arbitrary anecdote we have become. Was I not
able to speak up for myself again? Or find the bigger picture
behind all this, where a larger entity of epicenter exists; I’d imagine,
would the rotational inertia take me there alas
to being younger now, and fearless.



I see it everywhere, the colloquial equivalent
Of the most ambitious sort.
“I’m most afraid,
The world is a lonely sport.”
Judging whether we ought to be rescued, I can’t help
Without being wrought
Catatonic by my own muse, knowing we had
Already known this in life and strive yet
Against the ubiquity of being alone.

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