I was born with abundance of love.
It has found spaces all over my body—
in the way I tie my hair,
in the way I make my bed.

It spreads to my family
through snide remarks, inside jokes,
shouting matches through the roofs.

This love reeks through the faucets,
in the ground that makes the flowers bloom.
The shade of the large banyan tree is because of me.

My love is in the cat,
the same pebble I loved basking in the sun.
The birds sing my song.
They fly away to the sky.

I was born with abundance of love—
forgiving those mean boys.
You can find it in sorrowful rhyme.
You can find it behind the eye of the witch.

Now,
now this love stays hidden,
smothered by my ribs,
underneath my chest,
with no way out.

I was born with abundance of love.
Because you don’t want it,
I will let it rot,
let it poison the flowers,
and paint the sky grey.

My legs are nailed to the ground.
The blood gushes out—
but it doesn’t hurt as much.

I watch you all do great things,
buy pretty silks,
while I sit here and marinate.

Guilt, laziness, and loneliness
coat me well.
Every crevice of my being
feels heavy and aimless.

I'll laugh at it all,
give advice to my babies,
criticize those working hard
while I spend the day staring.

Pause is now my friend.

I need to move.
I need to run.
I need to fall.
I need to change.

There's a girl I'd forgotten long ago
As that summer subsided
The trees lost their leaves
And autumn arrived

I've pretended that I felt nothing
It's been years since we last kissed
But it is summer once again
I'm reminded of her

They come in faint whispers
And frail fingers clutch onto those tired memories
That I can't seem to let go of
At this time of the year

I feel the ache after all this time
Once the flowers begin to bloom, yellow and white
Fluttering in a candid breeze that tells me
She's still out there