Deep down

she shouted to the receptionist
threatened to hack us all in pieces
she screamed those words out
in a foreign tongue
her neck flushed with red patches
her hair had gone messy
her eyes were fueled with fire

in our shared language
I tried to de-escalate her rage by
offering her a cool drink
while clearly expressed to her
the options of
the police or the mental health team
if she was unable to cease screaming

she sat down
showed me photos of a hole
in her ceiling
and the water marks
resembling the world map
she told me
for six years
she have lived with ceiling leakage
for nine months
she haved stared at the hole
in the ceiling every night

she wept
for her man left her
the hole in the ceiling
is a constant reminder of
how her heart was broken
and it seems beyond repair

she is a tenant
complaining about
a repair and maintenance issue
she is a woman
suffering great despair
what is on the surface
is just the tip of
the iceberg

Grieving

grieving is a process

I wish
it was a project
with limited scopes
budgeted emotional investment
realistic deliverables
mitigable mental health risk
achievable in a foreseeable future

grieving is being powerless
of letting go
of the loss

Sand

The cold coffee is keeping me company
as I sit watching the waves rolling in.

I am tired of the long nights with
an empty spot accentuated by the cool moon light.

All the heartaches exhausted my fractured mind.
My eye sockets are hollow and brittle
disregard the flirtatious breeze.

I don’t know why I am so chained up
by the past like a submissive slave.
When the master has been long gone,
I keep the pain and torture to preserve
pleasure.

I have been through tubes of smudging mascaras.
Drought became my heart’s desire and daily companion.

My ailing body no longer withstands
the changeable seaside weather.
Fine sand finds its way into
the window of my emptiness.
I cannot tell is it a rock or a precious mineral.

The irritaion imitates the pain to give pleasure.
My eyes well up and my soul returns.

Demolition

I am a zen temple
serene and spiritual
open myself for fervent worshipers

who would think
you brought a pry bar
to remove nails
which you thought are
bonding me in concrete
I trusted you to make me whole
but not to break me

who would know
you two used chisels
to carve my perfect form
into damaged sculpture
I am your flesh and blood
I have mistaken your love
to be unconditional

who would foresee
a zen temple
demolished by trusted followers
in the name of
self righteousness

Cuts

walking on the pale sandy beach
spotting treasures in the sparkling sun
enough to whisk away the pensive mind

submerging in such shimmer
daydreaming the clouds to be
a motion picture of happy memories

until the edge of a rock or
a broke shell
cutting underneath her foot

the clouds turn into a violent swirl
brown bleeding out into the muted sand
from a place of torment

empty drink bottles
a monster broken capillary face
wild eyes flaming
savage shaking of a slim form

empty promises
an innocent blood drained cheeks
fearful stare vacating
prey falling off an arrow

how many times those cuts
drove her to the dark shadow
ignoring the brightly shining sun

gossamer waves reflecting off the water
old blood fading away into the saline foam
like the broken shells
in mock dismay

Fragile – College Poems

meditate in the breezy quietness
brushing the heartstrings
the fragility of body
the scars of the mind
caution in expression

it’s never your intention
tiptoeing around me
still wigwag me into pieces

in a panic
hauling me all up
in vain
leaving a trail of
Blood stains
from frantic steps

席座风自何处
拂动心弦几许
患薄体态自何伤
慎言纳止
君本无心
久经触碰
战战兢兢
碎我一地
拾全
无望
及足

The moment of departure

My heart departed
After soaking up your unkind words
Like wine turned into vinegar
The sun has been warm throughout spring, summer, even autumn
Below zero is the depth of winter
Where my tears run into icy poles
The place I used to call home where I hibernated throughout winter
Now wandering with my subdued heart
Home is where my heart is
I beg for shelter for my soul