As the now cracked mirror reveals the tinted black tear racing down my face, I replay the thought of you letting go of my hand for the very last time. When the words I'm sorry rolled off your tongue, wrapping around my neck. I turned to the mirror and threw whatever was in my hands while watching your shadow walk out of the door behind me, where I now sit, defeated, waiting for your reflection to reappear.
The Japanese have a saying: everyone has three faces. The first is for the public and the world to see. The second is for your close friends and family. And the third is your truest form. My first face, the one you all see, is the most fake of all three. It smiles when I am sad and laughs when I want to cry. My second face sheds a tear in the presence of those it knows but still hides the real me. My third and last face is a blank canvas that I can't seem to see. The white ex
Left at an orphanage in my home country by my unknown birth parents, I awaited the day I finally met you. I was around the age of one and you were a few years older. Once I had your tightly stitched body through my fragile stubby fingers I knew you would be of the most importance over the years to come. Inhale. Allowing your aroma to completely fill my nose. Inhale. Intertwining your thin woven fabric between each of my fingerlings every night before drifting into a dream. Yo
A lake centered in a forest streaming wherever and whenever. What's fallen in or settled at the bottom, you'll never know After all, it's in the middle of a forest Squirrels scampering past on the forest floor. Birds in the sky, flying from afar, eager to land in their nest. Perched in a tree. The tree home to many. Populated with ants, termites, owls and more. Living in harmony, untouched and unbothered. The raining of clouds, routinely washing over all, minding no business.
Feeling the worn leather reminds him of the seats that used to cradle him as his father drove. Hearing the purr of the engine makes him remember his father's contagious smile whenever he floored the throttle on the freeway. Looking at its red paint makes him reminisce about spending every Saturday washing the exterior with him. But his father passed away five years ago and left him the '69 Mustang. Since then, he promised himself he would take care of it. And when the oil pre
It was an early morning birds singing melancholy melody while the quiet sun began to rise above the hills. People started moving while feelings and smells in the early morning fresh air showered the air with greatness. The little boys were impressed, looking at the colorful sky they had never seen before which suddenly became as bright as stars, drawing a happy smile in to their souls.
Pencil stains the palm of her hands as the journal begins to pulse and grow. Hidden flower petals tucked comfortably in between the pages, a humble reminder of the simple things that still surround her. Yellow paint stains decorate her denim jean pockets, a bit of August sun attached to her as she whistles on the path she continues to pave. The apparitions of what was linger at a close distance behind her, dancing in mockery as her back faces them. The ghost of him in chains
It was a crab slowly exploring the seashore crawling over rough shells on the white sand, over starfish and smooth beach glass. Some friends toss around a beach ball being saturated by the scorching sun. They take refuge under a rainbow umbrella, with the scent of spray-on sunscreen irritating their nostrils as they cool off their burnt backs. Children fill their blue and red buckets with sand and seawater to create castles and palaces like the Taj Mahal or Versailles only fo
Gentle, lifeless curls held the strands of his scent. Her hands danced through it—the soap and water granted him a temporary redemption. He wondered what new memories would become of him while still having a mere trace of his old person at the ends where the blades didn't quite meet. Anxiously waiting to see the finished product of his overdue growth, he paces back and forth in his thoughts. Eagerly, he turns to the nearest mirror to discover that his old resolution is now an