For my fellow over thinkers,
May we never again witness the sun rising on us after a long night of tireless mind mind wandering.
Cruel Nights
cruel are nights when I long for rest
but all I could do is think;
as if thinking is a punishment for
the likes of me who never seem to stop
for every detail of my day
could be one thing or another,
I think about it until my mind is exhausted
yet I never get tired of thinking
thinking is a punishment for
the likes of me who never seem to stop
because thinking is all I’m good for
and when actions and words fail,
all I could ever do is think
about where I could be better
how I could be better
and if I could be better
thinking is a punishment for
the likes of me who never seem to stop
and cruel are the nights where my heart and mind are tired yet all I could do is think
Steps
people often step on my toes
and I apologize for being in the way
thinking that I shouldn’t have dared walk there.
I feel bad for making them feel sorry.
we never intended to hurt each other but we did,
even though I bare most of the pain
I hope they don’t feel too bad for stepping on my toes.
It’s a pain I’m more than happy to endure alone.
Walls of What I Go Through Nightly
These walls are witness to what I go through.
every night when I’m alone it sees my truth
That I am not one to be honest with my feelings because I
bury them under falsities,
putting up a front of fake happy
just so I don’t render anyone uncomfy
But these walls are witness to what I go through
when I’m alone and there’s no one to see
the misery company I keep,
punishing myself for things I could not control—
what I can’t change.
These walls are witness to what I go through.
They hear my thoughts because I speak them out loud.
If they could talk back, I wonder what they would say?
Would they scorn me for my weaknesses?
Or hold me tight within their grasp to console me till I quiet down.
My faint heart does not communicate wisely with my wayward mind.
They both offer unpredictability, so I sit and stare wondering when they will reconcile.
How I wish I was saner than I ought to be,
maybe then my walls wouldn’t have to witness what I go through nightly.
What Does It Mean to Love?
the idea of love is a magnet
that constantly draws me in
to every person I grow a connection with
because how attractive is it
to finally have that one person
to care and die for
yet love remains an idea for me
only learned through theory
and never through practice
because in my life I’ve only ever loved
those who can’t love back
could there be shame in falling in love
with the idea of love?
when all the greatest songs, movies, and poetry
are written about them
it’s like life is designed to romanticize love
and yet they ostracize you for falling all too quickly
when all you did was believe their idea of love
Physical Touch
to be held in times of trouble is one thing
but to be held just for the sake of holding is divine.
the knowledge of someone willingly putting their arms around your person when it is well within their right to do so,
it fills the mind with calmness and comfort
as if all the world’s chaos will never be enough to disrupt the peace their hold provides
so whenever you feel a sense of longing to be held,
how about you extend your arms and hold someone instead—
someone you know who needs it.
it shall offer a great deal of comfort to them
whether or not they know
Of Hands Holding
as our hands intertwined that night
I felt my soul touch yours unraveled and unruly
we let them dance
through songs of life and laughter
knowing each step is guided by
just two hands touching—
I swore that night my hands fit
no palms, no crevices, and no space
but yours.
yet all delusions of grandeur must end
for when our souls tire of dancing
we descend back to thoughtful reservations
as reality creeps back in
that our song is not one that plays forever
nor should it have played to begin with.
however, peace fills my mind
in place of sadness.
once my hand left yours
I knew I could never touch it again,
but I’m sure glad I felt it.
Old Habits Die Hard
to think is the only thing I know
it’s a familiar habit developed when I was younger-
never have I lost it or outgrown it.
thinking is the hand that caresses
mine comforting me when I’m left to my own devices
which was more frequent than I thought.
it made me comfortable being alone;
thinking helped me welcome my loneliness.
but soon enough, thinking becomes a deterrence
for me to live my life normally
slowly fear was instilled in me
along with a dozen more emotions
cultivated by my habit of thinking.
thinking was an all-consuming void, a black hole
that devours me every time I try
to put my mind at rest.
it has become the one thing I fear the most,
even after I thought it was the only thing that could save me.
the hand that was once soft and tender,
became a massive boulder;
a crushing weight that’s heavy on my shoulder.
Drawn…
I pull away
but your magnetic pull
is strong
one slight move
and my body
is attracted
to a shift in your posture
it’s like you welcome me;
your arms anticipate the hold of my hands,
or our fingers touch, then suddenly locks with one another.
then the weight of my head
sits perfectly still on your shoulder
while you keep yourself busy
sitting upright, trying not to disturb me.
so I do the same—
I offer the same courtesy of letting yours
fall on top of mine while I hold it down with my hand
in an attempt to let your slumber prosper.
my body is drawn to every piece of sign you give me,
a shift in your body movement in a language we similarly speak,
saying that it’s okay that I hold you and you me,
so we could both feel a little less lonely.
What It Feels To Be So Lonely
loneliness isn’t the state of being alone
at least for me, it’s the feeling of neglect and abandonment.
you can be in a room filled with friends and family
and still feel alone
if no eyes turn towards you,
no mouth comes by to talk to you,
and no arms to hold you.
loneliness is looking in the mirror
and disliking the reflection—
the image it shows of a person who’s not enough. loneliness is being an afterthought.
when all you want is to be wanted,
loneliness will linger at every step.
how can one overcome loneliness,
if, given the chance, one would most likely be their own last choice?
All Things Bright & Sunny
I associate myself with all things bright:
sunshine, sunflowers, and sunny days
manifesting happiness into my life
hoping it’ll change my perspective every time
exhausting as it is,
I never wavered from this mindset
but somehow, it took one cloud to cover my sunshine.
my sunflowers cowered to the ground.
and my sunny days got darker.
I never faltered on my own.
yet when I decided to put my happiness in the hands of another,
my sun didn’t even blink or take its precious time to hide behind their dark clouds.
Control
I avoid your kindness
as it seems too good to be true;
genuine as it may appear
I have lots of trouble convincing myself so
because I have never known sincerity.
in life, all I have been met with
are false joy, hostility, and disinterest
towards everything I give off to people
so forgive me if I avoid your kindness
and I return it with occasional coldness
I take comfort in knowing that I can control
how people will leave me.
Better Parts
the truth is I am a toy that people enjoy
and all my tricks are fun to see,
fun to play with,
until they find someone else
who does the same job
but with better parts,
parts they’d be more interested
to play with.
POV
perspective is a funny thing.
all those times I thought I was doing something
—being important
only to realize it never truly mattered
I was just a pawn to a much bigger game
and I wasn’t the prize you were trying to win.
Where Do You Go?
where do you go when you’re alone
with your thoughts just trying to revisit
everything there was that happened
I go to the darkest place of my mind,
repeating mistakes and rekindling the cringiest
of memories I had of everyone I’ve wronged—
or who have wronged me
at first, I try to forgive myself
for all the things that happened,
for the things I had no control over.
but forgiveness is not easily given
especially if the actions that require absolution
still hurts today
so although I try
I can’t seem to be kinder to who I am
because of who I was
I hope the day comes when it gets easier
and we find kindness in ourselves for ourselves
regardless of how much hurt we harbor from our previous mistakes.
You may have guessed by now that things are not, in fact, bright & sunny.