For every broken heart

use your words

not your hands

say stop! I don’t like that

I’ve said these words

every day

for months and even years

to children in my care

as countless children across the world

were stripped of their precious childhood

their education

their dreams

their hopes

their homes

their family

their safety

their very existence

how can I continue

how can I still believe

how can I not drop to the ground

in agony and despair

how can I care for a few

when the rest

are being erased

the hypocrisy 

the sharp contrast

the hidden lie

has been killing me 

much faster than

one day at a time

***

but I will stay and teach

for the strength of my parents

and thousands of people suffering

around the world 

for the resilience of nature

for the hope of peace

for freedom

for the love of animals

for the beauty of trees, flowers and sunsets

for as long as I can

for every stained backpack

for every broken doll

for every torn notebook

for every shattered imagination 

for every broken heart

The morning the sun didn’t rise

rivers of fire

"guided missiles, misguided men"

the morning the sun didn't rise

where do the birds fly to

where do the cats hide

in the city where

blood stained alleys

dissolve in acid rain

can the burnt trees still blossom

can this shattered season still change

will this sacrificed year ever end

caught between hell and under

fire on one side

bullets on the other

my father’s voice

coming through with static noise

is a chilling reminder

of the shortest conversations

during a different war

in a small phone booth

my selfless mother

I understand why you stay

I respect your decision

I envy your strength

and your kindness in crisis

I wish I had your courage

but here I am

drowning in worry

I come up for breaths 

every now and then

before the heaviness of my thoughts

pulls me under

Bullets or bombs (colors and bubbles)

when I close my eyes

I see dark smoke

skeletons of buildings

broken glass

black body bags

even in utter silence

I hear earth shattering blasts

the sounds of normal planes

over the blue Palo Alto sky

give me the chills

they always have

when I try to speak

my words falter

when you see me

in the morning

you don’t have to know

you don’t have to ask

I’ll be sure to wear my mask

I’ll smile at the colorful young children

that don’t know anything (yet)

about the cruelty of this world

I’ll imagine

that life is made up 

of colors and bubbles

fairies and rainbows

I’ll read you about dinosaurs

I’ll sing you a song

I’ll wear a cape with you

I’ll even try the wings on

so we can fly away together

at least for a little while..

by night that world shatters

colors turn to black

sunshine to smoke

two separate realities

two separate lives

when the smoke clears

I’ll look to recognize

I’ll start to realize

the nightmare before my eyes

but I’ll still pretend..to survive

I’ll pretend..to last

how can we mourn

and celebrate

at the same time

bullets or bombs

colors and bubbles

I feel robbed

It’s not fair, he said

I feel robbed

robbed of a friend..

I can’t believe

that I won’t see him anymore..

I hadn’t seen him crushed like this..

in years.

I was holding it together to help him through the night. But inside, I was wailing myself. Our friend’s music had touched my heart and traveled deep down into my soul. His voice was echoing in my head. It was the darkest night in a long time.

This dark night happened on a day that my eyes were already swollen and burning from tears. Tears for the blood of generations of people fighting for their freedom, dignity and basic human rights. Tears for a new low for human beings and what they are capable of. An existential crisis.

I was lost. I was showing up to work like a zombie again. A helpless immigrant drowning in the guilt of leaving and building another life for myself where I believed human dignity was comparatively more respected.

Why is honesty punished and truth deemed dangerous? It was as if I had never left. My body was pushing the portable sinks out at work to setup for children to wash their hands as they come into the classroom. But my mind was fearing bullets. My heart shrinking with worry.

When he called me to tell me our friend was gone, I was in denial. I hung up and pretended to go back to the kids. To sit with them and watch over them as they eat their lunch as if nothing had happened. But I wasn’t there. How long had I been gone?

How long will this go on?

The world was already dark. And now it’s so much emptier and darker without him in it.