When We Met

Why did you choose to dance with me?

Out of all people losing themselves in the song

what entranced you to take my hand

and lead me into your world?

If you had passed me by just like the others

I may still be dancing now, weightless and unbound.

Alas, here I am, clamped down by the chains

you had promised me to free me from.

You let me roam your garden but nowhere far beyond.

Your queen, displayed for the flock you created

donning a more convincing mask than the one I wore

When we met.

I play your game so expertly I almost do believe.

I smile when you come for me.

I smile to survive.

I smile because it’s what I am expected to do.

The only liberation I find is when I give in.

Play the game no matter what my heart may say.

My weapon is my mind and I wield it daily.

I can never sheath it and let my guard down

for I know more than anything

that I am too lost now within your sanctum

too lost to be found.

Dead Weight Bliss

Burning, burning ground beneath me as sunstroke creeps in

Blisters forming, how they sting, but not compared to where I’ve been


Yearning, yearning for the chance to see you again

Yet I was dismayed when I stepped back on this terrain


Spurning, spurning me away before we could even meet

Spiting me despite my efforts and insisting I retreat


Turning, turning back seems pointless when I’m come so far, still

Treason knows no mercy and warrants no explanation nor goodwill


Learning is a never-ending voyage, and this is just another lesson

Living expeditiously because it must be destined


I’m adjourning this chapter now and will have no regrets

For I’ve many homes before and will soon find the next.

White Noise

I can no longer sleep without white noise.

Crashing waves, fingers tapping, birds babbling.

The source doesn’t matter much but


Silence is maddening, inviting unwelcome thoughts

irrational fears, pondering if I’ll wake up.

Soft sounds are distracting, a security


somehow keeping me safe from immobility.

That demon in the corner won’t come near

with someone else already whispering in my ear.


Who knew headphones could form a forcefield?

A technological tool for insomniacs

Who still need to be tucked into bed


when too many “what if’s” are in your head.

And yes, it may give way to eccentric dreams

but that’s left for the day to contemplate

and a favorable alternative to night terror screams.


Till I’m Dust

I will be here till I’m dust.

My hands will wither.

My feet will prune.


My hair once lush and soft

shall fall and mix with seaweed.

My tears will crystalize


to be carried off as trinkets for seagulls

impressive to them; not enough to attract the one

I want most.


When my eyes no longer open

my body shall mold into the soil.

I will be here till I’m dust.