Daylight Lost

What do you
think about,
in those empty moments,
with no one but yourself?
do you count the ceiling tiles?
do you hum a song?
do you plan world domination?

Pain walks into my mind
taking its sweet time, taunting me with
possibility.
just how the sun sets over hours
and then, all of a sudden
Darkness.

Days are made up
of things,
a good ol’ pie.
Mental to-do lists.
Impatience.
Random intrusive memory.
Countdown to something.
The future.
The past.

Thoughts stack in my mind
fitting together like- well, not at all.

whether the sun is high, or the clouds are low
there is one thing that can stomp out
anything.
It comes and it takes
what it wants.

Every step I take
is planned to
best conserve energy,
to be the least painful.

I have less daylight
because of the time
taken by pain.

Hours wasted,
good times
forgotten,
replaced.

What do you
think about?
In those empty moments,
with no one but yourself?

One Little Boy

He is just a little boy.

I’d never seen eyes like that,

like the ones that were watching me then,

hallowed, gauging whether

I might be a threat to him.

Cute when he was happy,

so small, he looked 3.

Because they starved him.

He would talk to you.

Short sentences.

Speech stopped progressing

at age 3.

When he got angry,

he would use horrible words.

The only tool he ever learned

for emotions that he couldn’t understand.

Curses.

Wild threats.

He would spit in your face

and threaten to kill you.

Who taught him that?

His only tools.

He is just a little boy.

Meeting him

at a time that

I was absolutely

powerless,

crumpled my

hope and

understanding of

reality.

I couldn't help him,

and the ones who could

treated him like

a chore,

mindless work

without reward.

Grown-ups,

tasked to protect him,

held him down

yelling demands of complacency.

What kind of things

did they force on him back home?

Of course, he spit the pills out,

he couldn’t possibly

understand.

There is that

word again.

If you say

“It’s like he’s three.”

Then you cannot 

treat him like

a prisoner, for

he has committed no crime.

His parents hurt him 

in so many ways.

I still cry for him some nights,

I can't imagine how he felt,

alone in that room.

They assumed he’d

attack, yelling at him for 

looking at anyone too close,

he was trying to show me his drawing.

Behind his eyes

Lies an island of nightmares.

There is no turnaround here,

now I know:

I am the one

who couldn’t possibly understand.

He is just a little boy

who deserves to know what love feels like.

Lonely currents

ocean currents are alive,
whispering and holding tight to IOUs
ocean currents are lonely,
so they pull as many people as they can
down to them

the only way out is a sliver of rope
- don't blink, you'll miss it -
waiting to pull you up
but my hands are slipping

memories cloud
the water
can you see where
you need to be?
it's a path made up of
uncertain steps,
jumping over lily pads,
of riptides and crashing waves
the rope has to want you
you have to know what you want

ocean currents are alive.

a whole world

every day
every minute
im not there
is forever lost
every time i worry
i will never return
i wilt, color fades

there is a whole world
it's not so different
it is so different
it's family for me
and for me, that's everything

so there is this whole world
that i am missing
there are people living
and laughing and crying and-

what if i don't get to see my grandmother?
she might be the strongest person I know, and
i can't remember the last thing i said to her
in person, it's different in person

i hate myself for
every moment wasted
even when i was there, i wasn't
i was young, i didn't understand

it was my normal
but i got made fun of
by people who didn't care
to understand

i couldn't have imagined a day
i might not go back

to hug my grandmother
gosh, i worry i will break her
to eat mangos so the juice drips onto my shirt
to see the face babies make
at the first white woman they've seen
to laugh in ways i don't here

there is a whole world
that i can't taste from so far
i try, but it's so far
so far, a million miles
2,221 miles to her house, there
is no connection between
the ocean that is so big
i pray and think and dream of the
land that feels like a fairytale
that i can't touch over here

there are no books
no websites
no mind for a country so small
holding rainforests and creatures you've never seen
holding color that I can't see
not from over here

not from here