Oh Father

Honor thy Father and thy Mother,

but God didn’t think of you when

writing the commandment.


Oh, Father.

How I prayed for you to call,

and how I would cry when

there was no messages from you.


Oh, Father.

I always questioned what I did

to make you not love me, and

what I did to make you treat me

this way. You said your neglect

was what’s best — was it for me or you?


Oh, Father.

Why couldn’t you stick up for me when

your wife tore into me, and stirred up

the pot. She said she did it for you,

for us. But, she ended up ripping the

bread and dipping it into acid instead of wine.


Oh, Father.

Does it bother you that you never saw me grow up?

Does the amount you’ve missed ever

hurt you like it did me? No rites of passage —

no prom nights or high school graduations.

No elementary school finger paintings or

middle school angst. You walked away

from it all. And now, you’ll miss walking

down the aisle with me, or a father’s

first dance. You missed the chance

of knowing me. You may blame others,

but it’s no one’s fault but your own.


Oh, Father.

I must confess.

It bothers me.


Guilt Manifesto

There are too many I wishes in life.

Too many regrets,

too much time reflecting on what could be done,

and moments where you wish you can do something differently.


I should have known this was going to happen.

I should have come by,

I should have said “I love you more,”

I should have tried to move on past 20 years of mistakes.


Only I did not.

Now it may be too late.

I remember why I’m angry,

and realize that maybe the angry isn’t worth it.

I realize that I may never get a chance to call you, or talk to you.

I realize that maybe I was wrong to push you away and dismiss you.


But, then I remember the fact you didn’t try to move past it too.

You still did your actions in an endless cycle.

You still took sides.


Maybe we’re both at fault here.

Maybe we’re the victims in the devil’s selfish war path.

Maybe we’re unsure how to act,

so we’re taking our sides based on what’s safe.

Maybe we’ll never be perfect,

but perhaps somehow we can erase the devil’s handiwork.


If we did it earlier, maybe we could have been better.

But the maybes in life are not reality.

But, that’s all we have left —

the comfort of what could have been.


If you ask me, it’s better than reality.

The Story of a Relationship



It was an early crisp fall day.

Some say that January 1st is the day of new beginnings.

I think that the new school year is a time of tabula rasa.

You sat right next to me.

One day, you said hi.

I wondered if you were always sitting there.

Or, were you something that I noticed now that the surroundings have become familiar?

I didn’t know that by a simple breath, a simple hello.

That I didn’t want to ever say good-bye to you.


Will you ask me?

Will you ask me to be your girlfriend?

Will you ask me to the movies, where who knows what happens in the dark?

Will you do more than gaze at me and never let your feelings known?

What are we?

Are we more than friends?

You smell awfully nice for me to be just a friend.

You paid for my ticket.

What the hell is going to happen next?


The day after December.

I went to your house.

My friend drove me.

Your friend liked her.

For the first time, I thought that maybe this could be something.

I wondered what was going to happen next as you hugged me goodbye.

And comforted me later, as I cried.

You were something.


You suddenly began slipping away.

It was gradual.

I started to notice.

I wondered if it was because of me.

Or was it because of the ghost that haunts your closet.

The demons were too strong for me to compete.

So I took a step back.

Noticed how much you truly were eclipsed with a sea of darkness.

I wanted to be your superhero.

I wished I could take it all away.

However, the battle was meant for you to fight.

I didn’t know when to run.

All of the signals were there.

Yet, I was too stupid to ignore them.

It took one sentence to change my mind about you.

Someone who I thought was good and pure.

Someone who I thought would always have something nice to say.


I didn’t want to think about you.

It hurt that I choose someone who wasn’t you.

It felt like I wasn’t good enough for someone perfect.

I wondered would I ever find that complete perfection?
Or would it be something that I would look at through a glass?

I didn’t know if I ever would achieve that.


I avoided you.

I avoided thinking about you.

If I saw you, I would run away.

That got old.

So, one day I approached you.

I faced my fear head on.


I then wondered what I saw in you.

I look back and feel like that was a lifetime ago.

I managed to come back from you, forever realizing that you are vanilla.

Yes you were perfect.
But your perfection was a result of striving to be perfect.

I will no longer be haunted by your memory.

And, I am now over the blue eyes I once thought were attractive.

Our story is over.

But my own is still happening.


You Don’t Get It

Why aren’t you getting back out there?

Why can’t you just get over it?

It’s not a big deal — just go on a date.

Do you still love him?


Everyone seems to have an opinion —

it is something they insert in when not wanted.

But, they didn’t know. . .


They didn’t know what it was like —

to have lie about why he couldn’t go there,

to have someone think that they are entitled to your body,

or to have to explain why you’re not ready.

They didn’t see you throw up as he forced your hand.

They didn’t hear you cry as he gave you that ultimatum.


You see, no one understands that.


Maybe it’s my fault.

Maybe I should have opened my mouth.

Maybe I should have told someone.


But, what if they didn’t believe me?

What if I was the weird one, and he was normal?


You see why I carried my secret on my back.


Years later, I’ve turned into a beast —

locked up in my tower of isolation,

waiting for someone to touch my rose.


Despite my longing for light,

I still felt like it would happen —

my body a currency to keep the relationship afloat.

His words still repeating,

why can’t we just have sex,

again and again until I can’t take it anymore.

When I cover my ears,

I can still see those moments in high definition.

I can never escape.


Not that I had to explain it to you,

but that’s why I am not going out on dates.

If it were you, you would do the same.



It’s Not THAT Bad To Be Single

“Why are you still single?”

Oh, how I hate that question.

It goes along with being told “one day you’ll find someone.”

I have to bite my tongue

to avoid saying “shut the hell up.”

I’m glad to know your only accomplishment in life

is just being in a relationship.

That’s great,

but I have better things to do with my time

like meeting the band Kansas,

or working at the copy desk at the Hamden Journal.


It’s not that I am choosing to be single.

It’s just how it happened.

Sure, I can download Tinder.

Or, I can go on OKCupid.

But how do I know that the guy is actually worthy?

You don’t get that much information before you swipe.

Or, better yet, how do I know he’s not going to kill me?

I’m not suspicious,

but my best friend is always on the app,

and she manages to find people that look

like they are a sex offender

or belong in a prison line up.

Since online dating isn’t my thing,

one may suggest going out to meet new people.

Bars involve wearing clothes that are a bit too tight

and even then, you don’t know what they are thinking.

They may like you,

or they may want you to be their next one night stand.

Or, they just might want you to go away.

After a long day, a bar’s the last place that I want to be.

I wish I can find my future husband watching Netflix.

I don’t plan on being the crazy cat lady,

or the woman that’s obsessed with the career.

Maybe it’s fear that’s keeping me from talking to the cute guy in class,

because he may not actually have a crush on me

or he may just be gay.

Well, that might be awkward if I asked him out,

like that time when I asked Gabriel for his phone number,

later learning that he was in fact gay.

Why can’t he just ask me?

Romantic comedies lie.

But you see,

relationships are all just a game.

The winners are those couples,

you know the ones who constantly post selfies on social media,

or have someone to cuddle with on a Saturday night.

But, my day will come,

where I’ll meet someone to post selfies with to annoy everyone

and I’ll have someone to cuddle with who doesn’t have four legs

and floppy ears.


There Is A Time

I truly believe that there is a time for everything.

There is a time to radiate in the rays of love’s happiness,

and enjoy the fortune of finding someone.

There is a time to mourn love’s departure,

teardrops staining your cheeks as you say a final goodbye.

There is a time for hellos,

just as there is a time for goodbyes.


I discovered that life is nothing but a balance —

a perfect mixture of ying and yang.

Dark is equal to light,

just as good balances the bad.

No matter what, it always evens out.

Almost, always.


Maybe this is why everything happens for a reason —

you know some unknown one that I don’t understand.

And, perhaps, I never will.

So, this is why I no longer fight it.

This is why I enjoy the ride.

This is why I no longer feel despair when things go wrong.

That thought comforts me, and guides me through.


So, maybe I don’t understand that reason as things happen,

but it serves as a guide to navigate through life’s choppy waters.

And, that somehow is enough.


Didn’t John Lennon Say Give Peace A Chance?

Inspired by John Lennon’s “Give Peace a Chance.”

Everyone seems to be talking about someone.

Donald Trump insulting the someone new everyday,

Hillary Clinton and her emails,

Kim Kardashian, as she tries to maintain her fame,

or Caitlyn Jenner.

I wonder why we can’t give peace a chance.


People seem to seem to be talking,

but no one seems to be listening.

And all we should be saying is:

“Give peace a chance.”


Everyone seems to be talking about an -ism,

Feminism, racism, fascism, terrorism, communism.

You know, those old issues

But all I’m saying is

“Give peace a chance.”

Everyone seems to be talking about trying to prevent an event,

Sandy Hook, Hurricane Sandy, Boston Bombings,

9/11, Paris Shootings, Columbine.

But, with all of those tragedies in mind,

can’t we just give peace a chance?

Maybe John Lennon was onto something.

Maybe he knew that peace was the answer to the bombings,

the arguments, the messy politics, and the wars.

Maybe he knew that maybe if instead of talking we should listen.

Maybe all we need to do is to give peace a chance.