the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time


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Day 310 – Confession #1: Surrender

To surrender is to:
Breathe in the unforgivable toxins that assault your most precious lungs

Yes, you know the danger that awaits you and you continue to welcome it

You inhale the negative possibilities,
The indiscriminate liabilities,
The physically-impairing invalidities

Allowing them to consume you

But presume that you, for a second,
Stopped this? Well, maybe not this
Time
But, in time? And with time?

Perhaps you’ll learn to not surrender so easily
Reconsider your strengths and rid of failed attempts
For failure is just a mistake in disguise
Ready for transformation into realizations of new visions

See, each incision
Heals.
With mistakes you carve into you the most unique scars
That toughen your skin, make you stronger within.

So if today you must surrender to the whims of defeat
Know that your damaged lungs and scars do not stop you from moving.
You have feet left to follow,
And mistakes left to make.


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Day 305 – Youthful Expectations

If innocence wasn’t as pestilent as ignorance?
Wow, I think I could have erased a lot of high expectations a long time ago.
I could have saved myself from a lot of trouble.

Yeah, when I was younger, I viewed this world with wide eyes.
I stood with my timid posture, mind you, I was as shy as the sun behind the clouds.

I would hide away my secrets in my journals.
Yes, journals. Plural. I would get a new one every few months. I’d draw out the latest gossip and update on everything me. Lists of my friends. Crushes. Then I’d get tired of it and start a new one.

I colored coded diagrams and, presented my latest findings on friendship and jealousy.
And secretly, I wanted to be able to identify my biggest dreams.
Although, when you’re that young, you can only think about tomorrow:
The “I wonder if they want to hang out again?” questions.
My mind would never really answer.

Back then, it was simply more simplified.
And reasons to love never had to be codified.
I could memorize emotions like the lines on people’s faces.
I could read faster than I could speak.
I could count on everyone, because no one would let me down.

If someone was too cruel to hurt me,
I would be too blind to even see it.
I’d escape the claws of vicious green monsters;
It only took a little bit of distraction.

Satisfaction was a lot easier to come by.
Disappointment was quickly replaced.


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Day 302 – From the Sponge, To the Boiling Pot

*Inspired by Sarah Kay

You were enticing, though I knew you could burn me if you really wanted.
And I was warned to be cautious around you, since you have a tendency to boil over.
But for the record, watching you from across the kitchen was my favorite thing to do.
Encompassed in your sleek pot, with a handle for which one is to gently lift you.

See, though I learned to wash away filth, I always soak in those around me.
And I’m guilty of absorbing you more than a time or two.
And cleaning up after your messes weren’t always easy.
But I got the job done.

Part of me feels that I’m unfinished, with all of these holes in my being.
But I know that I’m just open.
I put up no boundaries to guard from unwanted adventurers.
No, I simply let them in, and trust them (perhaps a little too much).

But with you, I was more than eager to drink you in.
And you’d warm me up with your tenderness.
You were the best kind of mess I could clean up. But also the worst.

Sometimes, you know, you’d just sit still, at room temperature.
Difficult to read, I was not sure how to move around you.
And when the fire was hot enough, you’d boil into tantrums of
Scalding-hot oblivion. Your bubbling water would threaten to attack me.

And on those off-days of yours, you’d evaporate into thin air.
You’d release into the atmosphere as steam,
And soon you’d be out of my reach.
I couldn’t contain you even if I tried.

One day, I hope that you can condense back into the
Pores of me, for they are empty.
Waiting to be replenished
By your abundance.

See, I believe that you have the ability to change.
To freeze into a solid.
Perhaps be my sturdy brick of ice that cools me down when I get a little to hot.
And when we’re both at a calm,
You can melt back into your,
Ever-moving self,
And dance with me.

‘Cause I’ll never stop wanting to wash up after you.
Even if you’re on the other side of the kitchen,
Sitting atop your stove-top pedestal.
I have the window’s sunlight behind me,
And I’ll let it shine to you.
And maybe you’ll come back home.


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Day 227 – Unmade Mind

Never knew you could fit it all under one roof
A contained space of uncontrollable mess
A sticky handful of high stress
And sitting on the edge, ready to plunge forward
Into a chaotic tunnel of whistles and tones
Partnered with dye, with ink, splattered upon a canvas
And soaked in bucket of uncertainty
Thick, and viscous, it’d be too tragic to miss this
Fate has been poured into a bottomless abyss
Where speed and rest are forced to a twist


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Day 207 – 10:35am

Wake up, I didn’t say you could sleep in that long. I promise – just listen – to this song. Again, the alarm goes off, and you climb under and over. Through leaps and bounds, full disclosure. And if you’re hoping for closure, just know that you missed it. Just leave it to the side, for you’ve been too hubristic. Get up, do not silence, for you have no right to be silent. Though these words are quite sharp, do not think me violent. For the rays through the blinds offer sight, opportunity. So let in the light, and welcome continuity.


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Day 206 – Stubborn Shoes

Take these here stubborn shoes,
I’ve loosened them, the laces undone
For you to easily slip your feet into
So uncross your bent knees
Pull up your socks beyond the heel
And let the cotton threads mold your shape
Come on, take these stubborn shoes
They’ve taught me to be quite odd
For I’ve been stubborn throughout these hours
Pouring my happiness into this meal
And forcing myself to be numb in the chill
Winter frost surrounding my
Goosebumped arms and hands
Why yes, I took it even further
By entering the social setting
And cheering until my throat is dry
My voice, it’s gone, so gone
Why oh why did I
Wear these stubborn shoes tonight?


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Day 203 – Future Career

Certainly this uncertainty
is serving me,
through jealously –
it takes stabs at me,
most curiously
possibly just to
watch me breathe –
and yes, okay
I fear the unknown,
I sigh in tears
and release a moan
of sorrow, simple
pain – so alone,
my trembling voice
cannot condone.
Yes, the unseen
is something to fear,
for it is unwritten
and never clear.
So my moves?
I’ll make them sincere –
and the wheel is mine,
so I’ll go on and steer.