YOURS, TRULY

Forehead to the ground,
curled into myself,
you are surrounding me
like a tortoise shell,
spread over my back
like a parachute.

I am tepid water,
stagnant and stale.
You are a spring
that overwhelms,
like light cutting through
a musky room.

You are a whisper,
a lilt, a shiver,
when I stop wrestling
and let myself sprawl.
Tell me who you are:
My Yours, truly.

THE 2ND TIME

The stench of sweaty pits,
my stained black shirt in exchange
for spoilt grey sheets.
Liquid feelings,
I left unsatisfied,
a little bewildered, and
a little inspired by brief flashes
of pleasure –
born of your ardent devotion
to the impossible challenge.
Tit for tat,
make up for the first time
when I wanted it to stop and he didn’t.
Your perfect teeth remind of the first
set that grazed my nipples.
You are a do-over of a night
of unresolved tensions,
uncannily familiar, unspooling.
My body refused what my heart confuses:
an entangled love with thrashing legs,
it knew, it knew.
I could’ve taken the couch instead
but I wanted you to ask me to [stay]
come to bed.

CANTABILE

mincing your thoughts and
garlic for mushrooms,
whistling in the evenings
some Schubertian tune,
there is no one that sounds
quite like you.

keys jangling,
one hand steering,
always carrying,
listening. listening.
the other hand holding
until we make it past
the chaotic street crossing.

your steps,
affretando
a little hard to follow.
in the evenings,
animando
breaking bread with aceto.

resting, eyes closed,
in the thick of strings,
maestoso
I wonder where you go
when the music begins.

in a thousand tongues
I tell you,
gracioso
I love you
Te Amo
我愛你
Je t’aime,
cantabile

Twentytooth

The long awaited birthday post. I have begun to hate reflection because it is a harrowing process of pointing out all the things I could’ve or should’ve done better. This year I’ve come to another iteration of my True Limiting Factor: striving to change myself (ironically)!

The obsession with being better, of growing and having made progress has shackled me. Has made me depressed. And makes me depressed. Somebody I consider a mentor told me that she once regarded her eating disorder as a thorn in her side, something she wished would just disappear. Something she begged God or the universe to take away. Then, at some point the thought stirred: what if this thorn was meant to teach me something? What if all these vices and destructive habits are clinging onto me because they are attracted to my punishment-based, self-hating mindset?
How can I be with the things I loathe about myself, such that I no longer hate myself at all? How can I accept that this living, eternal being that I am is enough, as I am?

See, it’s the same track over and over again and I’m getting tired of hearing it. The driving impulse to fix myself and try harder – how ludicrous to think I have failed even at loving myself! I’ll stop fiddling with the thorns, entrapping them ever deeper. God will perfect me His own way, as the only doctor who can heal my hurts and habits.

Today, I am a new creation. 22 with some two grey hairs.

Sophie, you are loved when you are late to class, eat too much, speak too hastily, snap impatiently, lose your new gadgets, spend too much, neglect your responsibilities, procrastinate, sit idly, think inappropriately, selfishly, and carnally. You are loved when you have nothing to say, when you feel like you don’t know a thing. I love you still. 

Immanuel

You were there with me, you were there with me, you were there with me Jesus!
I was curled up, eyes were dried up, I thought I couldn’t cry harder.
But you were there with me and you were crying with me
and you gave me my breath.

You are the one who sees me,
you are the one who defends me
– who can be against me?
You were there when I just wanted sleep,
made me feel like I could just be
in my pain and weakness.

Thank you for your peace today
You are my everlasting Father.