#poetry, thoughts

What Kind of Gift is a Toy Doll?

you gave me a toy doll once.
it looked exactly like me.

I felt like I was looking into a mirror

& I still do.


as if the stars warned us of light
is no escape from darkness.

shadows only swarm deeper,
the closer we reach the sun

& yet we desire to touch the blue
of an open sky anyways.


our actions are like engraves
on stone
& not imprints in sand.
in other words, once it is past
it exists forever.


what the mind forgets leaves a scar
so the body remembers.


a weapon is only strong as the one
who uses it.
that’s why I see no power in the sword.
what is strength if I need someone else
to discover it?


asked a question & received no reply,
only silence–
could this by my own skin saying,
the answer cannot be found in what’s spoken…
or is it that I didn’t like what I heard
from my own voice?


when I couldn’t stand looking at the doll anymore,
I cut its body up.

into star-shaped pieces–
where you can find them scattered across the room.

I did this because the universe was too scary.

if I could just make something that big
into something small–
I’d be happier in it.


a galaxy is never diminished by darkness
of the universe–
instead, it will die by its own light.

a supernova is what we call the self-destruction
of a star.
how it bleeds its colors into a black hole
until its part of the darkness it yearns to escape
& then is forgotten.


to save anything,
sometimes we must destroy it.

it’s why I see myself the enemy
& you the hero.

what is fought for is much bigger
than what we have… what we think so little of.

I have a theory about war:
it can be a good thing.

that to lay down the sword,
I must wield it first–

or place the sword in your hands
& let you do as you please.


I cannot find what I never searched for.
likewise, I cannot lose what was never mine.


can we push pass our limits?
it’s not enough to know stars exist
beyond the sky if we cannot touch it,
feel its light & be consumed without burning.

melt away the skin & expose the human
underneath it.

I ask — can fire be beautiful for once?


what hates itself cannot love
& be loved.


a black hole can never be a star.
so who said the star would be an abyss?
when it devours, can a star still be used
to give someone
a door to escape somewhere else?
the answer revealed itself in a sudden flash–
if you self-destruct,
everything you are will be no more.


is this what life feels like when forgiven?
to be free of regret?

I cry.

let myself break like a worn blade.
how the body heals itself
— a pulse of a heart
(I long forgot heal rhythm)
sings a different hymn–
it says, the past has unscarred itself
from memory
& everything will be okay. 


maybe you gave me this toy doll for a reason?
to learn something from it?
so I can look at it & see myself
the way you see me?


let’s call time a liar for what it isn’t.
give Death a new name.

the body never dies.
instead, it’s reborn into a memory.

seek immortality in each other.
let us be never forgotten.

a tether can never be a sword.
so who said a sword was a weapon?
crafted to kill, can a sword still be used
to save someone
when the war is self-inflicted?
the answer scarred into my skin, a fatal wound–
once you want to die,
you can no longer protect anyone.


here’s my theory about light:
it keeps secrets.
this is why I like the dark–
if empty, I cannot be disappointed
nothing is there.
wouldn’t it be foolish to seek a painting
on a bare canvas? or a scripture on
blank paper? we never need the light–
darkness allows us the space
to imagine something to be there.


it’s all about perspective–

a warrior needs the sword
to win the war.
& the night sky needs the star
to reveal its beauty.


nothing about you has changed!

a face with a different mask
still hides the smile that made me feel
you cared for me.


no more will this heart seek vengeance
for the pain I cause onto it.
no apology can mend these injuries?

so what is better than a toy doll?
I envy its pristine rags for skin
& the dark threads for hair.
I look into its button eyes & see nothing.
no universe is home there.

stitches for a mouth cannot voice its existence.
it will never grow old to hate its human.


you taught me that everything I have
will be lost
& what is gone is never forgotten.

so why fear losing myself in places
I discover ruined?
what is mine is mine forever.

remember, a star is always out of reach,
the sword is tougher than the hand that holds it,
& you cannot discover what never belonged to you.

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