Churning like fresh milk,
my stomach feels the choice.
Two turns in equal state,
the cat inside the box meows.
First, there is Status Quo—
Doing nothing is still one choice.
Second, there is transformation—
Doing more and being another.
Cycles of choice and change,
repeating forever and ever.
A nursery rhyme princess
shrieks my name, dreamlike.

I am a condemned robot,
on the verge of carrying out
the cruelest order.

An order of destruction,
a sacrifice.

To be my own executioner,
so that one day, I may be reborn.

Let nothing remain—
where there is pain,
there will be fire.

Where there is suffering,
there will be flowers.

Where there is lovelessness,
there will be love.

A button,
and a countdown,
separate me from my mission.

Only a few images
separate me from oblivion.

Yesterday, we were nothing.
Today, we are everything.
And tomorrow—our greatest version.

I have been redrawn
My old rendition replaced
With bright new colors and shades

Beneath the veneer
Traces and rough outlines
My foundation sketched in time

The graphite, my blood
It was poured onto the page
Many times it was erased

Unsure who I was
Sketched again and again
Eraser shavings of shame

I was blind to see
These sketches were exactly
who I needed to be

Before I could paint
I needed a rough outline
Before I could find my place

And when I did
The shame was swept away
The brush swiftly hit the page

No longer a sketch
But a beautiful display
Of bright new colors and shades

I have been redrawn
My old rendition replaced
By a colorful bouquet
And there’s still room for change

Many times,
life denied me
what I longed for,
what I expected,
what I believed was mine.

Sadness,
uncertainty,
wrapped around me.
Why others?
Why not me?

Again and again,
I thought I understood:
It wasn’t mine,
I didn’t deserve it.

But today,
under the sun,
I ask myself:
Why not?

I am a worthy being.
I know how to love,
I strive every day.
I respect,
I believe,
I share,
I give.

And those who know how to give
also know how to receive.

I deserve everything in my life.
I deserve freedom.
I deserve health.
I deserve peace.
I deserve prosperity.
I deserve love.
I deserve happiness.

What are you depriving yourself of?

I think it is a good day
I feel okay, and that’s all
I feel, no sense of greatness
Nor self-hatred, no free-fall.

I look into the mirror
No fear, just looking as I
Realize that I have acne
But it’s me and I feel fine.

Right now, I am just okay
But one day, I will appear
From silk and I will be her
From those words, so far but near.

Full moon, at night.
The water shimmers in its light.
“Will you jump with me, naked?”
I ask him in the cold wind shaking,
Standing on the edge of the unknown,
Like a lion that has fully grown.
As he hesitates fearfully,
I dive into freedom fiercely.
“I must do it”, he says, following my lead,
Before surrendering to the deep.

The waves hit harder,
the closer you get—
I learned the sea doesn’t care about your longing;
it will take without warning,
pulling you under,
because you thought you could stay dry
and you may drown,
or you may rise,
but either way,
you’ll never return the same.

patiently, i wait -
my legs crossed,
and my heart too.
much time has passed
since the inevitable happened,
and yet, the light of a clement morn
never fails to justify the agony
of dying stars in the night sky;
or the ones too dead for even the
darkness that consumed them.
the heavens dispatch their
messenger birds to nook the
wisdom into the branches
of trees whose roots have shrewd
under the weight of logs that
outline their ascent.
such trees call upon the sages
to enlighten them,
and to warn them -
for they know too well how the
message might confound in the grips
of those who practise hedonism.
perhaps, the light has always been
too blinding for mortal eyes.

the flowers bloom all the same;
the winds usher the fragrant truth -
slowly, but surely;
and i lie in hope for the
rancid thoughts to inevitably
take on new meanings…

patiently.

The fairy is dying—with sadness in her wake.
A pixie transforms to a human before it’s too late.
Time is of the essence, so I must press on.
And the old me will soon be gone.

A chapter has ended in my book of life—
A chapter which produced so much strife.
They played with my heart like it was a toy.
Maybe the next will bring more joy.

A worm to a butterfly—call it rebirth.
I’ll bury my roots back in the earth.
One day I’ll grow strong like a majestic oak
And a new me I’ll soon evoke.

I’m changing quickly, and moving forward
Cutting out all that was untoward
Open my shell, soon you’ll find a pearl
But no more will I be your manic pixie dream girl.