Am I suffering beautifully?
Do I wear my agony like a crown?
Adorn it with pearls and jewels,
And parade it into town?

Is my pain reasonable enough?
Do I raise it up or tone it down?
I’ll try to cry pretty, tiny tears,
In fact, I'd do it in my gown!

For even in despair, I should be desirable,
Dare not to be emotional, dare not to make a sound.
To be a woman is to bleed, but glamorously.
There shall be glitters in the meltdown.

A     n acrostic
C     an be challenging
R     efining words into patterns
0      f different meanings
S     o we can see the world
T     o be open to new ways of seeing
I       f we've a mind to
C      onsider it so

and if one day
you decide to stop calling
i’ll still be leaving my phone
with the sound on
for the night

let
me
breathe
easily.

Confusion is a tunnel. There is always an end.

A pearl was sands at first.

"pen and ink" exists within uncertainty.

Confusion is a tunel. It always meets a new path.

April unveils proof,
within the course of fate,
during the days of downpour & rain,
frightening showers forge new ways,
for vibrant May flowers
to bloom in place.