repeating photos

how many times can one look at the same photos & still feel a presence?

shoving aside our own selfishness for wanting more

trying to stay modest with a lack of pleasance 

what else is there in store?

minor things seem to spark it all 

leaving me dead in my tracks

do you see me standing tall?

in my past, i was not lax

secret house

I think I've figured out why we call it
a 'household'
even though people forget how much a house holds

your childhood
your family bonding and breaking
the laughter & tears

your house has seen you at your best
and at your worst

the walls know all your secrets

all the dents you've made
scratches you've left
and walls you've decorated-
gone

when you move
you're not just leaving a familiar place
you're leaving a piece of you
to create space for new beginnings

Lost Inquiry

today i took the sheets that have been sitting in the closet and finally put them on my bed.

they smell of how you used to and it terrifies me

that in my dreams, i'll be able to see you standing right in front of me, talking.

explaining concepts and ideas that my mind will never comprehend

because you lived on the left side of your brain

and i live on the right side. 

together, we made

abstract science

artistic math

creative chemistry

but with you gone

i'm just alone on the right side.

i have no base, hypothesis, or root.

there is no inquiry.

sleep

sleeping has become such a treasured state

when you sleep, you dream

my dreams are the only place that i’ll ever be able to hear your voice and hug you again..

in my dreams, I can say everything I wish I had said

I understand now why people sleep through the days

they’re trying to bring something dead back to life for a brief moment  

Cold Summer

A summer love
that stretches into fall
and then into winter
but it crashes upon the cold
leaving an icy feeling
in her heart
that lasts for years to come
no goodbyes or farewells

just disappearance

like a snowflake once it hits the blanket of snow

Dreams v.s. Reality

Throughout time
how am I supposed to distinguish
dreams between reality?
You left me at only the small age
of 18.
I was only 16.
When I am 50, you will still be 18.
How can I tell stories of you
if I don't even know if they're real?
Death is a strange thing.
One second you're next to me, smiling.
The next day
you're lying flat on the ground,
oozing blood to all that surrounds.

living in my head

people ask me almost everyday
"why are you in your head so much?"

i can't tell them that i hear you talking to me constantly