Should.

I didn't mean to rebel & that's my fault.
Clinging to a notion of love that's
kinda heavy, kinda smells.
What you want from me is
the prison I built.
I gave you the key,
you promptly tossed.
A self-fulfilling destiny
that's hand-me-down &
one-size-fits-all.
No wonder the holes are
bloody & no one talks about.
If that's living insanity we got.
Maybe looking at yourself,
I dare you, then
see yourself out.

What happened to you?

Be loving with yourself,
even though your mother never was.
Dotting on yourself,
even though your father never did.
Listen to yourself,
even though others would not.
Don't do violence against yourself,
even when the world does.
Consider the self,
as only you could.
Illuminate your world
and heal its wounds.

Hating the things I ought to love.

I have this habit see above.
Even as I'm writing this "crap".
Like the excrement of my heart.
Stinking from fear & self-pity.
It's easy to shatter your love.
All it takes is to despise it.
Because it comes on it's own--
the best things in life is free.
I don't think so, the price is
hidden in the recess of my brain.
But what else have I got?

Mother-in-law.

My mother-in-law died of ALS.
She's an exacting bitch with heart of a saint
which confuses me & irks me out.
Every time I visit, she asks me to
translate packages written in Chinese
and helps her to cook while the men sit.
You have to give an award
to a model Vietnamese woman
in the form of heart disease & ALS.
It just figures, she's the only mother I had.

What would I do if I love myself.

I would brush my hair gently
instead of hurriedly.
I'd marvel at each strand &
take care not to
break it from the root.
I'd call my parents &
tell them I love them &
there's nothing to forgive.
I'd go out more to dance &
laugh without
feeling lonely, after.
I would care less &
appreciate more.
I would perhaps
return your love &
your touch.
I would do
all the things
you say I
could do.
If I love myself.