Poetry on papernapkins

The dent of your dimple
is the size of my fingertip,
it fits perfectly snug
when I touch.
I lick whipped cream
off of my upper lip,
and I watch you watching me,
a smile,the edges of your mouth crease.
you smell like soap and aftershave
mixed with the aroma of coffee beans
I smell like dogs and old books,
mixed with the scent of somewhere you've been.
I read your body English,carefully,
there is nobody else I'd want to be next to.

Crystalline

It's strange what we miss out on because of the fear of missing out,
it's even stranger what we miss once it doesn't belong to us anymore.
You claim to hate home but there are pieces of it you carry everywhere,
the shade of blue the sky looked in the mornings,before sunrise,when you
looked out of the window with one eye open-serene as a gentle sea wave,
then slowly,golden,as the sunlight hit the roofs with a softness that seemed dream like.
the first sip of coffee that was made with mime like quiet in the middle of the night,witnessed by latticed shadows of garden trees,so good,you swear you could feel it gush into your veins.
The warmth of those extra few minutes of the morning spent cuddling under covers,
although you know it'll cost you time and make you late.The musty smell of your dog
that you breathed in each night,as he fell asleep beside your bed.Those stickers you stuck on your bed's headboard when you were ten.Withering flowers in an old glass bottle in a corner,a glimpse at which guarantees a smile.The familiarity of buttered
toast melting in your mouth,divine.The way a particular friend would roll her eyes in school,
all the homework scribbled carelessly into notebooks at top speed in the break before the
respective class,Wednesday morning free periods sprawled outside the library where it seemed as if time could possibly never end,that prayer song they sang in the assembly that you don't remember all the words to,the classmate who always knew the right moment to hold your hand and pull you out of class when there was chaos all around,the first sip of coca cola after a really shitty day.
The only sense of belonging you'll ever know is feeling these memories forever,living life in a time loop.

Crystalline

It's strange what we miss out on because of the fear of missing out,
it's even stranger what we miss once it doesn't belong to us anymore.
You claim to hate home but there are pieces of it you carry everywhere,
the shade of blue the sky looked in the mornings,before sunrise,when you
looked out of the window with one eye open-serene as a gentle sea wave,
then slowly,golden,as the sunlight hit the roofs with a softness that seemed dream like.
the first sip of coffee that was made with mime like quiet in the middle of the night,witnessed by latticed shadows of garden trees,so good,you swear you could feel it gush into your veins.
The warmth of those extra few minutes of the morning spent cuddling under covers,
although you know it'll cost you time and make you late.The musty smell of your dog
that you breathed in each night,as he fell asleep beside your bed.Those stickers you stuck on your bed's headboard when you were ten.Withering flowers in an old glass bottle in a corner,a glimpse at which guarantees a smile.The familiarity of buttered
toast melting in your mouth,divine.The way a particular friend would roll her eyes in school,
all the homework scribbled carelessly into notebooks at top speed in the break before the
respective class,Wednesday morning free periods sprawled outside the library where it seemed as if time could possibly never end,that prayer song they sang in the assembly that you don't remember all the words to,the classmate who always knew the right moment to hold your hand and pull you out of class when there was chaos all around,the first sip of coca cola after a really shitty day.
The only sense of belonging you'll ever know is feeling these memories forever,living life in a time loop.

Tomorrow will not be better

I'm trying so hard,

but I'm just a kid,
Thanks for listening,
when nobody else did.

Papa popped his pills,
it's always so easy for him,
It's hard to stay,to be me,
when the tears exhaust themselves.

I hear bird cries out side,
the bathroom floor is cool and firm,
I close my eyes,lie down,
a slow song to reaffirm.

I am a mistake,
a lie is my life on repeat,
same shit,different day,
I tell myself to wait.

Nowhere to run away,
and nobody to talk sense to,
no sleep in my eyes,
and no sunshine in the sky.

Reverse Reverence

The last day of school,
orange tinted tongues from ice lollies and conversations about all the lovers we never had,
that's how all my summers seemed to begin,uneventful,inconsequential,
but this time's a little unusual.
It involves getting stuck in rain clogged streets choking with traffics and noticing flowers in colours I had only dreamt of in grey streets,and the first green mangoes so inviting.Getting sucked into a spiral of the freshest pale pink and aquamarine leaves,almost missing out on a board exam,burning up the object of my pain,physically,a question paper set aflame.Watching my anguish rise in sparks,then flames,diminish,disappear.
 Hospital corridors painted in hues of lavender and yellow,
falling asleep on metal waiting chairs that are not old or uncomfortable,the austere glances of other people,the uncomfortable shared silence of  strangers in the  elevator that makes you want to have taken the stairs.floor 5:Nephrology and Urology,words that send an instant shudder down my spine,
pierce like needles under my skin,I can feel the the first taste of soy milk at the back of a throat,in a hospital waiting room,aged 7,putrid.

I set fire to my insides,and relish the acidity of it,
eat leftover angel hair noodles from last night,you cooked with such love,
as you lie in some strange hospital bed,in a peaceful trance,
Somewhere.
And I remember the times the beer was cold and the afternoon blazing,
and the food orgasmic inside my mouth.
and the nights when the rain poured soft,the bonfire  felt warm and fuzzy
and I never wanted to come back home.
Like a marshmallow,I wanted to let my interior walls soften and shine
but I refrained from happiness,returned home,
my existence is refrain,
like the lines of poetry on repeat.
Liberate me.