Depression
The cancer of mental sanity. Depression is letting your thoughts become vicious wolves and let them ravage your empty bones. It’s letting your mind grow so big that it collapses within itself and creates a black hole. Shackle the weight of your life to your ankles and swim in the ocean of your existence. Among the many firsts of my life lies depression and to this day it plagues me in little ways much like that of a lover. It leaves little notes on my door reminding me to not forget, my skin sometimes feels its touch although it is absent, stays in my mind yet when it is so clearly not there.
Angers
I feel my angers hide in my hands
Like a pest they accumulate
They become ghosts hunting me
They beg to be freed
And they possess this hands of mine
Stealing them from me, time after time
They use them to paint my knuckles purple
and to drill holes on empty walls
They use them to create destruction,
To do havoc
To make chaos
And once they breach my brushed skin
They are freed
For they flow from this red River
No Longer held in my hands
nothing better than this fucked up sleepless nights again
Constellations
I was born out of cement sidewalks,
colossal buildings, and hanging wires.
I was raised out of seas of cars,
skies the color of smoke, and a society that never slept.
So when I heard that you could gaze at the heavens at nightfall, that there would be little shimmering specks of light.
I thought they were lying, for the only sky I knew was a nest of ashes abandoned by fire.
I later came to find out they were called stars.
The first time I ever got to see them was on my 12th birthday.
My father chose to take a family trip into the forest.
I remember the drive up the massive mountain. Following the serpentine path, ever so cautiously, among its sides.
I remember gazing through a cold window covered in trickles of raindrops and past it seeing an ocean of green.
I remember seeing snow for the first time. And learning how quickly it could melt by simply laying on my bare palm.
However, the thing I remember the best is the night. I remember watching the sky cover itself in a blanket of darkness. How slowly, like a kid peeking behind his parents legs, tiny sparks appeared above my head. Like grains of sand on a beach they became innumerable. It was as if the heavens had chosen to wear a sequined onyx dress that night. I was awestruck with the colossal beauty of it all.
I learned that these dancing pieces of light were stars. I learned that there was one for guidance. I learned that people make wishes upon shooting stars. People made stars into coins that they dropped in this abysmal well. I learned that among them galaxies and worlds and meteorites existed. I learned that they arranged into families forming constellations. How you could find any animal- dogs, bears, lions, foxes. If you looked close enough you could see the stories from which human history began. I learned that galaxies held worlds within them, we could only ponder of.
I was able to find the light in the midst of the darkness. I realized the beginning and the end of it all was in between those bright spots. I saw beauty, and grace, and elegance. I saw the worlds I used to dream of.
I think I sort of had forgotten about all of this.
That is, until I saw your eyes.
it makes me so disgusted how people in america are so quick to make fun of someones foreign accent without realizing that multilingualism is an unremarkable necessity of everyday life for the majority of the world’s population and that being monolingual and ignorant is a lot more embarrassing than any accent ever will be
