365, Or: How Things Can Change

mothers & daughters

i wish my mother liked me more

i know she loves me

she has to

i just wish she likes me sometimes

i wish i was all the things she wanted in a daughter

instead of all the things she didn't

i wish she liked me more

than she likes her religion

i wish i liked my mother more

i try, i really do

i just can't help but roll my eyes, sometimes

or sigh when she asks a question

i wish i could see past her flaws

or even love her in spite of them

i wish i could break the cycle

and yet around and around it goes

bitter without the sweet

you are the aftertaste of what

could've been a sweet memory,

and i think i’m the only one who 

still savors every sweet moment 

despite the acrid words you left me with.

~K.T.

i told them i love them

for the first time today

and i half expected their

response to be, "i know."

i have said it in

a thousand ways already.

my love, for you i will learn

to say it in a million more.

—mars

my thoughts are just as

fragmented as my thoughts

i fear the future and

i don’t want to be known for

what i had to spend,

but there’s no equity in

the things that i’ve bought

there isn’t a piece of me

that my mind doesn’t taunt

my heart is hanging on life

support and all i can

offer are apologies

i just hope one day

my body can forgive me

kira malibu

sunflower hymn

a head above the rest,

so turned to face her rays

all golden drenched, aglow,

enrobed in joyous solar waves

you stand so proud! aloud

and bold, your pollen flows

like liquid gold! not sold, but

ever on the bees have sole

laid claim upon your lovely.

faces brimming, young

and tender, won't you

sing of lovers won?

won't you dream of

what's been done?

in youth's most daring

feats, some yet to come?

energy

sometimes i let myself believe i could be an extrovert

i woke up this morning with so many spoons

i replied to texts on time

i replied to texts

instead of just reading or liking or hearting or saying i would get to them later

and then my best friend

(don't get me wrong

i love him

i do)

threw me a surprise party

and when i got home

all i could do was scroll

and now im going to bed

because i have no more energy

introvert, after all

i am terrified that

if i start loving her

i will never be able to

feel anything else again.

to be swallowed whole

by something so profound—

i'm not sure i would be

strong enough to survive

the tide that followed.

i would spend the rest of my life

trying to cough her out of my lungs.

-mars

oh

still not friends

still haven't talked

but he celebrated my 250 day duolingo streak

its the little things

that hurt the most

words may never truly express

the gratitude i feel

to have travelled to

the depths of despair.

after all,

it brought me you.

the combination of unlikely events

flutter in effect, endlessly changing

the possibility of what could be.

even then, i'm still content.

it brought me you.

isn't that enough, then?

tribulations and uncertainties:

i shed my past "self"

in the aftermath.

it was all worth it,

because

"it brought me you."

d.b.a

for s.

with every inch of you a miracle, their palates growing weary of wine, this grace from which you've fallen, that grave from which you climb,

with every mile of you like magic, stretched, a black ribbon round me,

a hare in your hat,

the curtain drawn - you saw me in half

and every half of me a creature, atlas-shoulered brittle, butterfly wings

flapping,

a sea of typhoon winds at my command