JHem

That's the thing, baby. About every salesperson. They don't want you to know. They sell you a future, Devoid of hurt, But it's only a dream. That's just a sales pitch. It's not true, I tell you. Perfect overlooks beauty. If there was only one perfect flower, The advertisers would sell you a rose, But what about the iris, lotus, or hibiscus? That image you project, With perfect makeup, And a wall full of prizes. It's only a cover up, Not transcendence, Of vulnerability. As if you bargained the devil, That intelligence could outsmart, Your delicate, breathing heart. How could you care, What people thought, If you didn't fear? How could you care, About getting ahead, If you didn't feel? How could you care, If it didn't hurt you, To fear feeling seen? So why, if I may ask, Has it become so taboo, To show that I bleed?

Thank you, Alinda, For being the first person to get me to drop my guard. Thank you for pampering me year after year when I didn't know how to do so for you. Thank you, Emily. For valuing my presence. For making feel wanted in your life, even if the time was short. Thank you for teaching me how to let go of being "right" so I could "listen." Thank you, Colleen. For making realize I was never ugly. Thank you for the wonderful art you made me. I still cherish it after all these years. Thank you, Rita. For being there for me every time I got my heart broken. Sorry I couldn't reciprocate your feelings, but that doesn't change the fact that you were one of the best friends I ever had. I hope you're okay. I hope you're happy. Thank you, Min. For helping me see my dignity as a human being. Thank you for seeing the best in me when I felt like I was the problem. Thank you for standing up for me when I believed what others told me what I should be ashamed ...

I hear tales of a mythical beast, Swoon as delicate as finer sweets, But I've no lasting encounter, Unheld hands so I may not boast, Only by the imprint of past ghosts. Defined like an unspoken language. Still a heart felt at its most. Not one who chose to disengage. So here, God My letter of resignation.

It wasn't easy for me to watch, But in my case, I had no choice.

It was 10 years ago when I was sure I was writing my final chapter After I had come back From a heart abused. I had set a strict deadline. A year until the end of the line. I had no more to lose. There was a liar, But not in the way you'd expect. No malice, Just an excuse, For her to get a word in With me. But I caught on. Flattered, I was. There was a poet, Just he and I on empty rooftops, Curved of the paparazzi he attracted, Wondering why there was no ice cream. They'd make a fortune on summer campus, I argued. And finally, Strawberry ichigo white dress. They say you sound rather monotone, Who'd be crazy to say it made you a bitch? I gotta say, surely their ears fell deaf. I could feel the heartbeat in your words. I can't quite pinpoint when Acquaintanceship was simply past, And cherished I became. Was it when you planted yourself  Where you didn't belong? But it made me happy. Was it when you'd take me with you, To the dismay of your friend? But it made me h...

I was told Yellow and blue  For the walls. My hurt she sees. A promise so sweet, Second only to you. When promises are simply ideas, The walls are broken and full of mold. The treats, flavorless and a chore to eat.