no matter what comes
just know that your impact is || irrevocable
“wicked game” playing
in my headphones, and i feel
my stomach flipping
The poems within each section will be chronological of when I wrote them, between April 8, 2024 and May 17, 2024, but the sections themselves are not.
And I’m trying something different this time: providing an audio version of this post, in case you’d prefer to hear the haiku spoken.1
i - others
i don’t know why, but
at this family dinner
feel the urge to weep
-
rumble underfoot
reminder: others exist
not all about me
-
cognitively i know
shouldn’t conflate busyness
with disinterest, yet
-
i am just so scared
have so much to say to you
don’t know where to start
-
glad you clarified
didn’t want to correct you
figured you’d expand
-
i’ve admired you
from afar for your strength, grace
and endless insight
-
hope you can refill
your cup in this next chapter
find both joy and rest
-
i’m overthinking
worried i’ll say the wrong things
in the wrong order
-
i spilled my guts out
and for what? for you to say
that you were checked out?
-
our eyes met, and you
knew what to do: escort me
out so i could weep
-
i swear i never
meant to betray. shapeshifting
was for survival
-
what if we’re like
quaking aspen? holding hands
beneath the surface
ii - fatigue
headache setting in
heavy eyes, tightness of breath
time to hibernate
-
devices’ allure
tempting to write off my mind
as the fifth machine
-
there’s always a cost
my committed hobby time
leaves no room for play
-
it’s sinking in now
the impending joy and loss
from inflection points
-
easier to stare
into the void of my phone
instead of living
-
left the oven on
distraction means hemorrhaging
electricity
-
i keep staring off
i feel so far away when
in theory, i’m here
iii - pouring
i don’t even know
the best case scenario
or am i just scared?
-
my world is crumbling
what i thought was a given
had cracks after all
-
these huge, wracking sobs
emerged suddenly, my chest
heaving from effort
-
i can feel the nerves
pulsing bundle tickling
inside my stomach
-
i’ve already cried
four times today, and it’s not
even ten a.m.
-
oof, make that six times
all by ten thirty a.m.
so tender today
-
fleetwood mac’s “landslide”
jostles loose my tenderness
avalanche of tears
-
i’m letting myself
feel the pain, but what about
feeling the joy too?
-
sleep debt racking up
losing hours feeling the
hollow in my chest
iv - hmmm
it’s not a contest
can we not just both enjoy
these compositions?
-
drunk on cooking wine
i had to open them, so
why let them go bad?
-
we’ll, it’s love that makes
subaru a subaru
didn’t you know this?
If you enjoyed this, let me know! I thought it would be fun to try, but I’m not sure yet if it’s more trouble than it’s worth.