Tea and no cakes.

I have not seen him in a year. He has gotten a new hairstyle, new clothes. He has a new habit of running his hand through his hair when he's deep in thought or vulnerable. He said he has been trying to eat healthier, cut potatoes and rice. "More protein and veggies", he said to me, "It's better than not having anything to focus on."

We talked and laughed and enjoyed silence breaks in between tea sipping. Conversations filled to the brim with "I feel the same way too!", "How about you?", "I am really trying to be better," and "I need to hang out with you more often now that I'm back." I learn that he is really good with abs exercises now, likes the color green now and knows what he might do in the next 5 years career-wise. I have missed him. The last time I saw him, he was crying on his bathroom floor, paralyzed with pain. I have never seen or heard a heart break before. There was nothing I could do. How do you save someone who just lost his entire world?

Flash forward, there he sat. His world was rebuild, or at least that was what he is trying to tell me. We talked about everything but that night. I still didn't know why he disappeared, why he wanted to be alone. My questions were at the tip of my tongue. Anxiety had built up at the bottom of my stomach and has transformed into butterflies that might blurt out any seco-

"Why did you disappear?"

His eyes immediately clouded with disconcert, guilt and apologies. He lowered his gaze and knitted his eyebrows together. He continued to open and close his mouth with nothing coming out. He ran his hand through his hair, still looking down while clasping his hands together, left thumb on top. Of all the years I have known him, I know that when he clasped his hands together, he is in pain. My eyes flicker from the frown on his face to the left thumb that has now started to rub on his right thumb. I immediately regretted my question.

"I was in pain. I didn't know what else I could do..." He swallowed with his eyes fixated on the left thumb that never stopped rubbing his other thumb. "I know I shouldn't have done that but I don't know if I could still ask for your help anymore. It was beyond what you could give me. I had to go away..."

I took a huge gulp of water and blinked at him, confused. "You could have told me. You could have asked me to do something. I would anything for you." He still has not looked at me. His left thumb, still rubbing his right thumb. His lips, still a tight line.

Finally, he looked at me. I could see the pain reflecting in his eyes, his neck tensed while he was trying to keep himself together. Why did I bring this up and push him back to where he was trying so hard to get away from? "I still miss her. I still love her. I had to go away to know how to stop loving her." He swallowed again as if trying to gain what little bit of composure he had left. "I didn't leave because I didn't have believe that you will be there for me. I left because it was too painful to stay... I didn't know what else to do." He brought his hands to his chest and squeezed while taking a deep breath. The rubbing of his right thumb has slowed down but he still hasn't unclasped his hands.

The waiter came by to refill out drinks during the lull of our conversation. I had a feeling that I will be annoyed with her if she asked if everything was okay. Fortunately, guessing that she sensed the tension that was present within the radius of our table and she left quickly without a word. I was evidently still upset with him but he had good reason, personal reasons. I couldn't blame him for something that he had to do.

"What would you do if you had one wish?" I asked.

He chuckled weakly and his left thumb started playing with his right thumb nail. "Her," he said softly. "I want nothing else, no one else but her." I saw a small sad smile playing around the edges of his mouth, as if he was remembering something. He continued, "I still remember how I looked at her. I still remember how it felt like to kiss her. It felt like all the stars colliding into a bright meteor shower and the entire world disappearing. It felt like what forever should be like. It felt like everything that I wanted in every lifetime. It felt like she loved me too."

25 things I learn/am reminded of in March of 2017

1. March is not a good month for me.
2. A black hole in your chest can still hurt even though it's empty.
3. Love doesn't mean the same thing to everyone.
4. The people you love will hurt you, especially when you don't expect them to.
5. The people that love us the most in the world, are the hardest for us to hear.
6. The lucky ones are the ones who are loved exactly the way they wanted.
7. I am allowed to still love you with so much and still walk away.
8. Under no circumstance should you ever lose your temper with the ones who love you.
9. Words of comfort from the ones who love you are never intended to harm you.
10. Always run to those who love you.
11. Your circumstances in life are not an excuse for your behavior.
12. Wisdom does not come with age.
13. Understanding comes with a level of respect.
14. It's okay to leave when people push you away.
15. Under no circumstance should you ever say something because it will help you in that moment and only in that moment.
16. Feeling hurt when paired together with acceptance of loss brings a comfortable amount of peace.
17. You are allowed to blame yourself for things. Just don't believe it.
18. Always communicate what you want and what you need from someone. Do that even when they are not listening, at least you can say you did your part.
19.The words "best friends" are cursed for me.
20. Life is too short for being "too little".
21. Love even when love has let you down because it is the people that you love that disappoints you, not love.
22. There is strength in continuing to love even when you are broken and gasping.
23. Not everyone wants your love, it's okay, you can give it to someone else who wants it.
24. It is okay to mourn for people who left. They were important.
25. Always fight for what and who you love. Don't let your regrets be losing them because you were too scared to fight. Fight.

The aftermath of you're done feeling wanted.

I forgot how numbed pain makes you feel like
you're imploding on yourself.
The feeling is equivalent to an Eiffel Tower of cards,
collapsing in a few seconds
after hours and hours of hard work.
You get cold to your bones,
you grow weary as the day drags on and
you want to sleep, dream, sleep, hoping
you wouldn't wake up.

I tried vocalize how I felt.
Then, I realize no amount of effort could properly explain
that I just want to be held until I stop becoming a black hole.
I cannot expect the ones who claim to love me to
listen to a rant that does not have a conclusion.
They have lives, money to earn, bellies to fill -
lives, to live.
What makes me think that I have anything important enough
that takes priority over all those?
How selfish am I to ask them to listen to me over this?

However,
I forgot how deafening silence can be especially when you hear it
over the sound of yourself collapsing inside.
I forgot how pain silently hums all over your body in the midst of silence.
The sky is still the sky even when you're in pain,
somehow I'm still pretending not to be surprised by it.

To 13 and a half year old Tryphena

To 13 and a half year old Tryphena

I wish I could give you a hug. I know this was the year you felt the loneliest. I know this was the year that that accidental cut on your arm lead you down the road of an addiction that you still have. If I rolled up my sleeves now, you'd think I'm the coolest still.

Things are different now, very different. You won't believe how much things are different when you compare it to a year ago. A year ago, I was crying my broken heart out over my first love. The year before that, I never knew what love was but I was the healthiest, mentally, around that time. Then, a little after that, I met her. And then, the year before that, I was trying to recover from another pain. You suffered for quite a while from aged 19-22.

The painful things have not happened to you yet. Somehow in another dimension, you were the one before the storm. I'd change a few things for you if I could meet you. You were just lonely. You needed someone, that's all. You turned out alive after 10 years of pain. There were a lot of good times too but I'd say it was hardly worth the pain. It's better than nothing.

At 14, you are so clueless about everything because you did not understand the world. You just found out about pop and rock music. You tried so hard to develop passion for music and other things. You'll discover something else later. You'll learn to love writing. Then, at 22, you'll dedicate a hand written book to her. Yes, her. You'll go through that stage a little later. You'll fall in love with the wrong person before you meet her. This wrong person will be the reason for your pain from 19 years old onwards. But you'll learn, oh, you'll learn. She will be your greatest lesson of all because this is when you will start letting people love you when you cannot love yourself. I wish you knew this because it would have helped you so much when you think about your goodbye letters.

At 15, you'll go through your first major heartbreak by your friend. You'll forgive her. She'll apologize but baby, you will hurt. I have no ways of making this any better. It will be your first experience with depression. I'm so sorry for becoming a shell of you. You will cry and then, stop crying for a very long time. You'll meet another girl who you'll be fond of. You will love her and try to help her.

Everything that happened till you're 17 is nothing game changing. You'll come in and out of our impending depression but you'll survive. You'll get your first boyfriend but he wasn't any important. You'll learn to be very wary of guys from then on. When you're 18, your best friend from high school will make you betrayed and this will make you change how you feel about her as a person. Everything with her will change from then onwards. None of it will change back.

However, you'll meet this girl in pre-U. She'll be the main point of your life. She'll teach you how to love yourself. She'll teach you how to wear make up and that it's not bad to want to look pretty. She'll be so important to you. She will teach you so much on how to be a girl. You will love her and accidentally fall in love with her. You then handed her on a silver platter to the guy that was undeserving of her. This is where you will deny what you felt and keep it buried for so long. I am so sorry but this will be the most painful period of your life. She will leave you. You won't blame her when you're me. I wasn't the best person to be around when I was friends with her. We both had faults. We don't talk now but she still hasn't deleted me off Facebook. I guess we were really friends last time. You will never stop loving her because you cared.

With that painful period, comes the time when you find out who is really there for you. You find these people unexpectedly. They will become so important to you. They will love you so much and in those times, you will learn to let them. You will learn that you deserved to be loved. Again, most importantly, baby girl, you will let them.

At 21, you will learn acceptance. You will learn to be okay with yourself. It will be one of the most important lessons you will teach yourself. You'll learn how to be okay with yourself, how to love yourself. You will be kind to yourself, be aware of you. You will grow. Oh, I am so proud of you even now. You will grow so strong. Baby, you will be so strong because you will need it later. I am so sorry.

You will meet her a few months before you turn 22. She will open up to you. She will care about you. You will smile while you're on the phone with her. You will have your life turned up side down and you'll be so happy. You'll be so happy for her. You'll find so many poems that I have written about her. You will fall in love with her and you will love her so much. She will be your first in so many things. She will make love songs make sense. She will make elopement seem like a good idea. You will love her and love her and love her even though many who love you will think she does not deserve it. You will love her regardless. The book will be for her. So much will be for her.

Last year was bad though. It was over between us. No, it wasn't our faults. Our parents will never agree to it so it done under a mutual understanding. I still think it was the worst way to end something. It's hard to move on like that but you will. I still miss her from day to day but the pain does go away. However, in our case, our normal pain from depression and loneliness just comes back and we go back to that pain instead. You will cry for her. You will cry rivers and rivers of tears. Your life will stop because you were in so much pain. Remember when I say that you need to be strong? This is the time when you need it. You will fight so much, so much to get her back. She'll go back on her promises and you'll be angry but you'll understand. You will love her. After all, you wrote a marriage proposal for her. She will never see it but it's alright. You love that much.

Things do turn out okay. You have a proper job now. You earn your own money and pay for everything on your own. Be proud of me. You will go through so much pain, so so much pain. I don't believe it's worth it. I won't lie to you about that. The pain is horrible but you are very strong. I know you don't have a choice but you will be okay. You will not hate yourself, you will be okay at gaining weight. You will have so many people who care about you. You will have so many of them. You will love them and they will love you back,

You will dye your hair. You will play Skyrim. You will travel to go visit your friends. You will miss your family. You will fight.

Please hold on. Please fight. Please be strong. I love you. I hope you know that. I love you so much.

Love
23 and a half year old Tryphena

From Friend Requests and Obligations

It started off with a friend request, or rather an obligation to someone who was important to us. Neither one of us wanted or needed this friendship. Again, obligation fueled the conversations and replies. I remember my introduction went along the lines of mentioning my dislike for peas. She replied very quickly and I wasn't expecting that. Small talk became even smaller and naturally the conversation ended.

The next time I started talking to her, it felt like a well oiled engine being put to work again. Replies were falling in place and I believe this is when the friendship really began. We met for the first time when I went to visit her. She was smaller than I imagined, kinder with a much bigger heart than what she gives herself credit for. I remember the experience to be surreal and I had a small moment of depersonalization because she didn't feel real - none of it felt real.

I couldn't write about her more than I would like to. I am a visual person. I notice the creases on people's face when they laugh, the vein bulging out when they are stressed, the way their eyes light up when they are surprised or happy. I don't remember the details of how her expression looks like. However, I'd recognize her voice anywhere.

I didn't think it was possible to care someone you have not met. I didn't believe simply trusting someone was good enough to build a proper friendship even when you have not met them. I was wrong. I learn to build a safe house, a bomb shelter with the thousands and thousands of messages and voice clips we have exchanged. I memorized her laughter, her groans and sometimes, her nothings. I have seen her hesitation, confusion, worry and joy hidden behind in ellipses, commas and exclamation marks. I have interpreted internal conflicts and contradicting paradoxes in different wavelengths. Sometimes I see her pain and her desperation to make sense of the circumstances of her life in between sentences of rage and anguish.

In a sea of inside jokes and harmless flirting, there is a mutual understanding and respect. It is the tone of the entire relationship. There is also a love that I did not expect to develop. It is behind every cracked hello when the other is crying, every "why are you so far away" and every "you bitch". I didn't expect the joy that came with talking to her even though most of the conversations start with her being sleepy. 

It is hard to find friends who consistently care about you during all of the times. She is Patience herself when it came to dealing my inability to think rationally when it came to Cassandra, even when it was (unconsciously on my side) at her expense. She is Peace when I was crippled in bed, sobbing and in pain. She is Hope when taking my own life seemed like the better option. I have done nothing to deserve of all these. There's a quote by Graham Greene that says,

"It's a strange thing to discover and to believe that you are loved when you know that there is nothing in you for anybody but a parent or a God to love."

I have so much love for this human being. It is puzzling to feel something as overwhelming as this, especially when it's not romantic but I do. There is a joy that I can't explain when I think of her company. I am entirely grateful for her and I can't wait to see her again in a month.

Good night kisses.

I have always kissed my pillow good night every night before I went to sleep. I imagined I was kissing you good night.You'd stir slightly before wrapping your arm around my waist and making yourself comfortable on my arm. I'd use my fingertips to trace the bridge of your nose, cheekbones, jawline, your eyelashes, your eyebrows- God, your eyebrows were my favorite. I'd lean in to kiss you lightly on the nose, then carefully on the forehead. Kisses like these became a prayer, a promise that I'll love you forever. I would hold you close, place kisses after kisses just to make sure that I get to wake up next to you the next morning.

It turns out kisses weren't promises. Ever since you left, I have never stop telling you good night. Every time after I said good night, I would bundle myself up in blankets. I feel cold when I miss you. It's like my body feels the absence of you. I miss interlacing our fingers together. I miss you sleeping on the nook of my armpit. I miss being woken up by you trying to curl up closer to me. The pain became bearable, humming in the background but I have never stopped missing you every night.

Anywhere but here.

Sometimes I have a feeling that I am not where I am supposed to be.
I feel like I should be miles and miles away from where I am right now.
I should be in a tent in the forest, camping with the love of my life
I should be half way across the world, studying or
walking to work, thinking about what to have for dinner.

It's not like I don't plan my life.
I think that was the mistake, planning my life.
When things don't follow "the plan",
everything else falls apart and I am now sitting here,
trying to use the pieces to make a new plan.
I feel like a spider that is only trying to make its web.
I spent time making the strands even,
making sure it's long enough to stretch from this beam to the next.
One more strand, one more and I'm done.
Then, rain poured.
Itsy bitsy spider went out the water spout,
down came the rain and washed the spider out.
That bitsy is me.

I wonder if it is human instinct to keep wanting a better place for yourself.
I keep thinking that I am better than what I am giving myself credit for.
Maybe, maybe I believe if things were different,
I wouldn't be in this much pain.
If I could be anywhere but here,
the timelines could be different then.
If the timelines were different,
I could be walking home,
thinking what I'm going to have for dinner with the love of my life.

Autumns and him.

I have never met you.
When I think of you,
I think of autumn,
breezy afternoons and chilly winds.

I was told that autumn can be quite cold
and somehow,
I can imagine us taking a walk in the park.
Hand in hand,
fingers interlocked.
I don't know how cold I'd be but
in this imagination of mine,
your hands were warm.

In my mind,
we were wearing scarfs of the same color.
In my mind,
 we are walking hand in hand in the same park.

Remembering when I was 22.

It scares me that I might not be able to remember what I am feeling now when I am 80. Right now, I am sitting listening to the cheesy songs about dancing under trees. Right now, I am undeniably in love. Right now, she is my everything and I would give up a lot if it meant that I could get a proper chance with her. Right now, I love her with everything that I have.

Enormous Idiot.

I am an enormous idiot. I knew I would love your hands as they trace my jawline, my lips and then, then the scars that cover so many areas of my body. I knew I would love your lips as they kissed bruised knuckles and tear stained faces with no judgement. I knew I would love those eyes as they look at me with such conviction to prove that I am worthy enough to be happy in this life. I knew I would fall in love with you.

So, if falling in love with you makes me an idiot, then I am an enormous idiot.

How do you know you're in love.

How do you know you're in love with them (or anyone in general):
There they go. As flawless as they can be. Everything about them makes you smile like a kid at the carnival for the first time. You can't blame yourself because you're in love with them. How in the world did you end up here? You feel like everything in your life has happened and aligned so that you could be at this place to meet them. They were everything you wanted and needed. You are happy after a very long time.

When you hold their hand for the first time, their hands feel like the right temperature, the right size. Waves of excitement and joy rush over you and drags you under. Then, you found out that you can breathe underwater. What joy! This is the most amazing feeling ever. The first kiss. The first time you went on a date. The first phone call. The first sleepover. You will feel invincible, like nothing can kill you. You were on top of the world. It doesn't matter if someone came and knock you down. With them, you could just climb up again, no biggie.

Why do I want to live?

Every time I want to kill myself, I'd look for five reasons to not do it. I didn't want my reason to be friends, family and a bright future. I was stubborn. I wanted good reasons, reasons that will only impact my life to show that there is something to live for. For those who wonders, I try. Everything on my list is never repeated.

Once, the taste of a good juicy burger was among the five. Another time, being able to breathe in fresh air and taste the molecules at six in the morning was one. Some days I stop at three, after "I get to feel the texture of flower petals". There were not enough reasons left. Then, I let myself fall into the trap of a bad habit, which is a story for another day. Some days, I couldn't get past two. I didn't know if getting out of bed counted as one reason. I wanted to give up. I was tired.

Then, you turned up, all smiles and green contact lenses. Five months later, I asked myself, "why do I want to live?" One, you. You are everything. You are sunsets and sunrises, morning dew and night mists. You are the cold side of a pillow and a hot bowl of soup on a rainy day. You are the smell of grass after the rain and the song I sing in the shower. You are the heart that I draw on foggy windows and the red dragonfly I saw once outside a church. You are everything at once.

I still want to kill myself sometimes but since then, my list has never changed.

Cyan.

You were green.
I was blue.
I tried to be the color of your skies.
I painted landscapes with you.

You seeped through my veins,
and I now, a body of blue and cyan,
I changed and I didn't mind,
I thought you didn't mind too.

To be wrong

I want to write about how you made the anxiety in my bones still. I want to write about the way the side of your eyes crinkle when you give me a mischievous smile. I want to climb on to the tallest mountains, just to scream "I love you" in to the clouds. I want to tell the world that loving someone can change so much of what you were so sure about.

Before I met you, I was so sure that the most annoying accent in the world is the mandarin accent when English is spoken. With that accent, came the complimentary broken English. I was so sure that I didn't like it. Of course, like I said, it was before I met you. Now your voice is my comfort. Your words became the Big Dipper that guides my way home when I get lost. I was so sure and then, I was wrong. And boy, I have never been this happy to be wrong.

Coffee, cakes and secrets.

I told a stranger about you today. I told her that I love someone, that I am in love with someone. We were standing in line in a coffee shop. She was nice and she looked very comfortable with that fuzzy jacket on. It was completely absurd that I was in that shop because I did not like coffee. I just wanted cake. Well, we both wanted cake. So, I went in to get cake and she was there.

She asked if I liked coffee. Obviously, my answer would be a no. Then, I told her that I have a friend who likes to try out different cakes from different shops. I knew I said "friend" but the thought of you, no matter what the title is, made me smile. I gushed that you didn't care what cake it was, it just had to be good. My mind was full of nothing but you. Cake didn't matter for a while.

I told her how you always forget that you're not alone in movie theatres. You would sit up in surprise during plot twists, with gasps so loud that people would turn to look at you. I didn't care. I held your hands and laughed while trying to get you to remember that we are among others. I told her that you think flower bouquets are a waste of money. Your ex-girlfriend got you flowers as an apology. Later, you found out that she was actually cheating on you so the flowers meant nothing. I didn't tell her that though.

I think I was whispering to myself when I talked about flowers. She smiled and asked, "Does she know?" I chuckled and nodded. A little too fast, I supposed. "You said "friend". What's stopping you?" she asked again, this time brows furrowing.

I felt my smile falter as I shrugged, "I am nothing more than another secret for her to keep."

To be loved.

When I was younger, I was a ball of anger, fury and pain. I went through old diaries and journals. It spoke of nothing but pain and my love for other people. I think I didn't know how to love myself so I just ended up giving away every piece of myself even to people who don't deserve it. It sounds cliche but it is cliche for a reason. It happens.

I wanted to be loved but I refused to give anyone the permission to love me. That made a lot of things harder. In spite of that, I know now, that I just wanted to be loved so fiercely that I have no way of doubting it. That is how I loved people. You can never doubt I love you. You will be that sure of me.

I'd give myself a hug. I think that's all I wanted, really. I wanted someone to hug me and stay there for 15 minutes. I wanted to be loved.

You don't have to love me back.

I know it's exhausting for you, to deal with someone's love for you, especially when you don't want it or can't return it. I understand. You watch your words to keep how you feel unknown. You keep your wall up so you don't feel too much. You have always been a master at changing the topic to another completely different train of thought.

When I said I love you, you didn't say it back.I said it six times more on different occasions. Not once. Not once you acknowledged it. I'm sorry if it's unwanted. I didn't know. Well, I guess I did. I just didn't want to believe it. You've always said that we should be better off as friends. I don't think I know if I can be your friend. I love you. I have trouble finding the right way to explain what I feel. Then, I concluded that no combination of 26 alphabets can summed up to the way I feel about you.

I can't explain why I feel sad because "because I love you" would be a weird answer. I guess, "you can't be mine" would suffice. I'll remember the way you look at me. I remember how your lips curl up in response when we kiss. I'll remember how your skin feels. I promise I won't forget you. I understand now. I love you. You don't have to love me back.I won't force you to reciprocate what you can't.

\

Who was ever lucky enough to be loved in exactly the way they wanted? - Carmilla Karnstein

A letter to a man who will never ever read this letter.

Dear you,

I went to your wedding last week.
I was sitting in the 5th row from the front, on the bride's side.
I was seated between a woman in red who smells strongly and solely of expensive perfume
and an old man who smells of baby powder and hazy summers.
I was in dark blue dress because I was hoping not to stand out so much.
I think it worked because I don't think anyone knew me there.

I saw the way you looked when the wedding march came on.
Your shoulders tensed when you heard people gasping at her.
You pursed your lips in hopes of calming your nerves.
I get it, it's your big day.
She looked so beautiful.
I promise you, you looked good, don't worry.
You couldn't see the way she gripped on her father's arm.
She was nervous too. She looked like she would fall if
her father wasn't holding her up
but her eyes never left you.

When you turned around to look at her,
I was happy for you.
Your eyes were soft and you smiled a smile that was only meant for her.
I saw the way you held her hand like
it was the most fragile, most precious thing you've ever held.
Your eyes never left hers, hers never left yours either.
For a moment there, you were in your own world,
you forgot we were there.
Then, you were brought back to reality
when that photographer with the big flash tried to take a picture.

She had this face when you were exchanging vows.
I've seen that a few times.
The first time I saw that face was on the night when she first came to visit me.
I don't remember the last time she was that happy,
I guess that would be when she got married to you.
I hope you get to see her like that a lot.

You might be wondering why I am writing you this letter,
this letter that you will never read.
I am writing this because I hope you'll love her.
I hope you'll love her in every possible way a person can be loved.

I hope you fall in love with her eyes.
because they say the eyes are the only things that don't age.
I hope you fall in love with the way her skin feels,
the way she curls up against you when she sleeps.
I hope you fall in love with her laugh,
the way she smells without perfume.
I hope you fall in love with the way her arms wrap around you,
I hope that you'll always hug her back.

I hope your love for her consumes you.
I hope it scares you and it makes you wonder if you are ever good enough.
I hope you'll want to change for the better, for her.
I hope you'll want her to be proud of you.
I hope you'll take care of her.

You were given a chance to live your life with her.
I hope you cherish it because the only difference between you and me right now
is that she didn't choose me.

Bathrooms.

At 14, I was sitting in showers crying my eyes out while rivers of red were pouring from my wrists.

At 18, I was in the same spot in the bathroom. This time, passed out in a pool of my own tears and blood, from the same stream of red.

At 21, I remember how to take showers and sing. The walls no longer represent solitude.

At a week before I turn 22, these walls are no longer cages for secrets. 

Atlas and His Punishment.

When the Titans lost their war against the Olympians,
Atlas was condemned by Zeus to bear heaven's weight on his shoulders.
His punishment was a series of cramping wrists and stuttering kneecaps,
shaking arms and shoulders that bent over like all the apologies in the world.
No amount of suffering or prayers will ever earn him
the forgiveness of the supreme ruler of the gods.
I guess it's understandable that he suffers.
It is retribution for going against the most powerful god of all.

When I am curled up in my own bed, I often ask myself
if any of my wrongdoings has resulted in this form of punishment.
The weight of the day greeted my waking body like the aftermath of a hurricane.
My shoulders mirror the act of Atlas balancing the heavens,
except the heavens replaced by my anxiety and my desperate need to be good enough.
My arms cramped from the way I wrapped them around myself.
I bite my teeth down so hard that I was made believe that
my voice was never meant to be heard.
I broke and crumbled, without falling down.

Perhaps I am the daughter of Atlas, reincarnated
over the centuries to share the burden of what was once my father's punishment.
Perhaps my pain will act as the head of a decapitated prisoner, stuck on a pole
high up, as a warning to those who might stray.

Then,
Perhaps I am Atlas himself, wiped clean off all memories of the past,
with only the loud echos of never ending pain,
as a faint reminder of doing what I thought was right.