by Lang Leav
My Life
I will celebrate this life of mine, with or without you. The moon does not need the sun to tell her she is already whole.
From a Dream
There are three stages of waking:
Remembering who you are.
Forgetting what you dreamt.
Letting go of what you felt in that dream.
Sometimes they happen like waves, one after another. At times they can occur in no particular order. Other times they overlap all at once.
That’s what it was like to love you. It was like waking from a dream.
When It’s Over
There is a point in every relationship when you realize it’s over and seldom is it the day you break up. For some, that moment is long after you say goodbye. For others, the moment is long before.
Once in Love
I don’t think you need to be in love to write. But you had to have been once.
Thirty-Three Locks
It’s almost ten years
since I arrived here,
to this idle, halcyon town,
this little seaside house.
There are six doors
and fourteen windows.
There are thirty-three locks.
I turn them over in my head
when I can’t sleep at night.
I get out of bed to
press my face against
the tempered glass.
Once, I lived in a room
without a window.
I bet you could still see
the places I wore the paint
thin with my fingernails.
I still think about it sometimes.
Some nights my mind
feels just like that room.
Left Too Late
Remember that old clock in our hall;
how it chimed on the hour.
How my watch was set to yours—
when time was worth keeping.
Before you said to me—you said,
You’re always too late or leaving.
Love Hurts
Do you remember what you said to me that day, long before we knew what we would be, before you whispered my name to me, raw and tender, like it hurt you to say it?
You told me you were the bravest when you’re in love, so don’t you dare stand there and tell me you’re afraid.
Sandcastles
The roar of the ocean
like an endless echo,
of that postcard afternoon;
when I heard your laughter
like a storm rolling in the distance.
If love had a scent, it would
be seaweed and sandcastles,
on the cusp of November,
and the sigh of your breath
on my sun-kissed skin.
The memory of you like a
loaded gun in my hand—
my finger on the trigger.
The One Thing
Look at you. You’ve stitched your life so perfectly together. You worked so damn hard to get to where you are, and now have everything you ever wanted. So why do you keep looking back at the one thing that can undo it all?
Wishing Well
Into a well
a girl threw a penny.
What do you wish for?
asked the well.
I wish for a penny,
said the girl.
Danger of Love
Let’s live this life half-lived,
and dare not hope for more;
not a single thought we’ll give—
to the one, we loved most of all.
Let’s love with hearts half-hearted—
and walk through life asleep.
Do not dream of dreams departed,
of the one, we couldn’t keep.
Let’s not look for silver linings,
or send our wishes to the stars;
for there is danger in our pining,
and we are safer where we are.
A New Day
I shed my past like layers of skin. I let them fall at my feet like discarded clothing.
I pay my dues and make amends for the sins of my youth. I step out from the shadows and into the light, naked and free.
I can hear my spirit singing. I can feel my wings unfolding.
And the sky is calling my name.
From You
The distance from you is measured in how far I’ve come.
Smoke & Mirrors
If you know she’s too good for you. If she makes you think about the universe. If you look into her eyes and see the best version of yourself reflected back—
why do you hesitate?
If you feel the joy of possibility coursing through your veins. If she makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever felt. If she opens up a whole new world for you—
why would you let that tempt you?
I know you’re young and there is so much life left in you. But deep down, you know she is the one. It’s true the world is a great big place, and you’re not done exploring every inch of it. But, sweetheart, it’s all just smoke and mirrors.
And if you don’t make her yours now, someone else will.
And you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.
Pretense
The greatest injustice I have suffered has come under the pretense of love.
About Love
When I was five I asked my mother about love. She scooped me into her arms and spun me around, her laughter filling up the room. She said love was like a red, round balloon; there was a part of you that wanted to hold on to it, a part of you that longed to see it soar into the big, open sky.
At ten, I asked my mother again about love. A soft smile played on her lips when she said love was like a drowsy kitten that came to you, unbidden, crawled into your lap, and made you the center of its world.
The day I turned twenty, I dared to ask my mother one last time about love. She tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and held my young, hopeful face between her gentle hands. Her eyes were raw with longing when she answered, love is a dormant volcano, lying in wait, biding its time.
Thoughts on Letting Go
It’s possible to move on from someone even if your heart refuses to let go. And it’s not something you need to consciously do. It will just happen gradually, over time. The ache will always be there, but the intensity will fade, and you’ll find other beautiful things to fill your days with.
Two Worlds
I try to imagine how your name would sound in my mother tongue, like the phantom words that exist only in the language I was born to, that if said out loud would seem to you, incomprehensible.
How do I tell you when my words are a patchwork of two worlds that fit so beautifully in my mind but become unstuck, like pieces of a puzzle, the moment they fall from my lips?
What I feel for you is at once the expression of language and the absence of it.
All the Time
Did you find your ever after?
Is there somewhere you belong?
Is your world now filled with laughter?
Is there nothing for which you long?
Do you ever look behind you?
And wonder about what you see?
When the memories come to find you—
do you ever think of me?
Do you think that love can lessen,
if you pretend it isn’t there?
Do you ever, ever question,
what could have been if we dared?
Are you happy to let it linger?
Does it never cross your mind?
The world that slipped through our fingers—
I think of it all the time.
To Mysel
f, Ten Years Ago
You won’t believe what I see from this vantage point, the years stretching out before you like a long and winding road. I don’t want to scare you, but there is a forest just up ahead. One so dense and dark, the sunlight won’t reach you for awhile. You will wander lost, in this long, perilous night, not knowing if it will ever come to an end. But believe me, the light will find you again, and when it does, you will no longer be afraid of the dark.
Stop to catch your breath. Soon, a jagged mountain will rise before you, so steep it will make you want to turn back around. Don’t despair; the first foothold is always the most difficult and every inch you claim of that cold, hard precipice will make you stronger. Before you know it, the ground will level out beneath you, and you will look back to see you had conquered what you once thought impossible.
See that turn just up ahead? That’s the place where love will meet you, with arms so warm it will melt away the winter in an instant. And then, it will be summer for a very long time.
Over
It’s over, she said.
It was many years later when the quiet realization dawned on her.
It’s over, her heart whispered.
Back to Life
I want to wrap my mouth
around yours, like a word
that sits on the tip of my tongue,
one I can’t wait to say out loud.
I want to throw your name
from the edge of a cliff
and lose it in the great abyss,
to feel it swelling up like a tide
in my mouth all over again.
I want you to spill from my lips
like a rupture of joy, like a deluge
of rain across the weathered
landscape of my soul, a rushing river
that carries me back to love,
brings me back to life.
Poetry and Prose
Sometimes I am caught between poetry and prose, like two lovers I can’t decide between.
Prose says to me, let’s build something long and lasting.
Poetry takes me by the hand, and whispers,
come with me, let’s get lost for awhile.
Goddess
Have you forgotten who you are? Here is a reminder. You are the giver of light, of life.
Do you have any idea of your power?
Every time your body bends,
the universe yields to you.
Your eyes are twin worlds they send up satellites to orbit. And your skin
is made up of the very fabric of time.
Look for the light within you. Feel it surge like a river through your veins.
Use it to will your dreams into existence.
After All
I felt you again in my sleep last night. Like always my dreams of you are peripheral. An overheard conversation where your name is mentioned; a letter in my hand I try desperately to read before I wake. A Styrofoam coffee cup and half-read book on an empty table where I knew you were just minutes before. It’s as though my dreams are a mirror of my waking world, like finding myself walking down the street where I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of you, only to look again and realize it wasn’t you after all.
Call to Action
Do you hear the angry winds bellowing?
The light from a single torch is burning;
the sea that roars onto the shoreline,
tells us that the tide is turning.
Do you feel the blood within you flowing?
From rivers to oceans—here we stand;
this is the time of our deliverance,
the power we now hold in hand.
Do you see the flicker of light now growing?
A wildfire roars in Liberty’s name;
the seraphic flame of our Awakening,
it is now our time to rise again.
The Mermaid
Sometimes you wonder about her. That girl who is so much like a mermaid. Who lives in the depths of the ocean, separate from the real world. You don’t hear from her for years at a time. And that’s when you know she is happy. She only comes back to the surface out of loneliness or necessity.
More to Me
What never was,
What could have been,
was more to me
than anything else.
A Dream of Hope
Last night I slept for the first time since
you left and I dreamt about two suns
in an apocalyptic sky, one edged in
black and smoldering, like a cigarette burn.
I saw the sea rise up so high outside
the window of my mother’s old house
so I climbed up onto the tin roof
to look inside the mouth of Neptune.
In a hotel room where we couldn’t figure
out the light switches, my legs were
wrapped around you and I was humming
a tune that we both knew by heart.
There was a woman who made a shrine
for her dead lover in the hollow of a tree.
She looked straight at me with eyes
milky white and whispered, it’s not too late.
Letter by Letter
Sometimes it feels like my pen is another vessel, another vein, organic like the blood that rushes through, and spills onto paper. And my heart, tired and tender, beats out your name, letter by letter. While my mind, a thousand miles a minute, tries to take it all back.
Revenge
When the battle is done,
and you think you have won—
don’t dance on my grave just yet.
If you are the moon,
then I am the sun—
I will not allow you to forget.
In my own time
I will take back what’s mine,
for I am not your friend.
In the dark of the night,
And the shifting of tides—
I will come for you then.
Too Far In
I look for you, the way I was taught to look both ways when crossing the road. Uptight and wary, bracing myself for something I know could break me.
I loved you, in the way I’d only known love. Before I learned to hold back. When I thought everyone loved with their eyes closed and hearts wide open.
After you, I learned to lock my doors at night, pull the curtain shut. Be wary of strangers with taut arms and sad eyes. Who want to spill their secrets to you like the ocean, who pull back once you find yourself too far in.
I miss you, like a drowsy child begging for sleep; like a bird who almost made it to the sun. I ache for you like the searing memory of flight.
To Us
What has time done to us? It has turned my body into yearning. It has made you so much more powerful, more intoxicating than flesh and bone.
For All Time
You talk to me in riddles,
I will answer you in rhyme.
I loved you for a little—
I will love you for all time.
Borrowed Love
Kiss him if you want to;
you are treading on
sacred ground.
Anywhere you go,
I have already been.
And when you put your body
next to his,
you’ll find the places
I mapped out long before
he knew you.
And when he calls your name,
know I was the one
who put up those walls.
You should know by now
that you cannot build
cities on cities.
Kiss him if you want to;
But keep this in mind—
I was his first love
and I’ll be his last.
Crazy Love
Anyone who knew me then would say I loved you far too much. Like a wildfire or the sharp edge of a knife.
Anyone would have told you I stopped being the person I was the second you walked into my life.
They would have said love wasn’t supposed to drive you crazy, make you want to scratch at your skin.
And they were right.
Because there was love and then there was you.
The Irony of Love
The closer I get to love, the further away it seems.
To Know
To know that I miss you,
so much when you leave.
To know that I need you
like the air that I breathe.
To know that I want you,
with a passion so blind.
Is to know that I love you,
with no doubt in my mind.
All This Love
I don’t know where it comes from, all this love I have for you. I don’t know where to put it now that you’re gone.
