Poem: The Light Who Radiated My Life

So I always wanted to put this poem on my blog but I… forgot.

But it’s all good since I remembered!

So this poem is the one I read at my grandma’s funeral and it just so happens that it’s an adaptation of a blog post I wrote.

So a little backstory…

During emotional moments or any special moments like birthdays, celebrations, I kinda forget my emotions and how people have made me feel. So when my aunt, the person who organized my grandma’s funeral, asked me to read a poem… all my family thought I was gonna just get a random one from the internet. They were gladly mistaken cause I mean it’s me. But my extended family don’t really know this side of me.

Anyway, when my aunt asked me to write a poem I wasn’t sure if I would put everything I wanted to say in it because my mind was sorta elsewhere that week. So I looked here cause I knew I wrote a post about her in the past and I wanted to build off of that.

So I found the post I was looking for: my Grandma

And I worked on it to make it present tense and yeah I read it at her funeral. I wanted to put that poem here because this is where all my memorable poems are so here it is…

One day while I was sitting with my grandma, I chose to see things I didn’t notice before.

Her eyes. The wrinkles. The eye bags. I wonder how much she has seen. How much pain, how much strife she experienced. How many tears probably streamed onto her cheeks. I thought of her sister, my great-aunt, how much I saw her cry. How much she probably still cries, not just for her but for all the loses she has experienced. How many people she has seen. How many she has met. I wonder how much her eyes have seen. The journeys, the adventure, even a little chaos.

Her hair. How black blends with gray, and over the years gray has taken over. You could notice that strands have already fallen out. Yet, she still takes care of her hair. Putting oil, combing through it, and putting it into two braids. Right and left. Nothing complicated, just two braids. Her curls that she combs through. The curls that are the by-product of my waves. Whenever I would do a certain hairstyle, she always tells me she did that same hairstyle when she was younger. She would always tell me how she thinks my hair is pretty.

Her arms. Her fingers. How they’ve grown wrinkly and somewhat weak. Her fingers are always shaking. Although her fingers seem weak, her arms seem to be strong to me. She does carry a lot. She’s always bringing food for us while carrying two bags. I wonder how many times she’s had to lift herself up. Or has had to lift someone else up. How many times her hands have lifted, praying to the Lord, her best friend.

Her clothes. Her sari. Come to think of it, I can barely think of a time she doesn’t wear a sari. Other than, when she’s cooking or on vacation with us. No matter how old she gets, she can always wrap a sari gracefully without anything falling or looking out of place.

Her smile. I will always admire her for this. No matter what, she always has a smile on her face. Her laugh is so contagious. She never looks mad at me, even when I yell at her. In fact, one day, when I was feeling down, she told me that I should just smile. That happiness is what you need in life for it to be fulfilled. Her words. She really knows what she’s saying. Even though some people might not see it that way. How much passion she has for the things that she loves. When she teaches others about the Bible, her eyes lit up. Her words flowed. She could literally talk about it for hours, and not get bored. That’s what amazes me. She’s so passionate about the things she loves and uses that passion to teach others.

Today this is how I see my grandmother…

Her faith. 33 times. She read the Bible 33 times. She led her life with faith. She made sure to bring God with her into every room, into every step, into every crack of her life. I never saw her question God once. No matter what, in happiness or strife, she would always call out to God. She had so much faith that if she saw us today she wouldn’t understand why our eyes are full of tears because she knew God has something better planned for us and I know she’s ready. She always said “Don’t worry. Just pray to God. Everything will be alright”

Her bravery. She read the verse “Do not fear, for I am with you” 33 times and you could tell she applied it to her life. Fear never even touched her once. Her soul. Her mindset. Her personality. It all showed the image of a courageous human being. She didn’t get anxiety. She could talk to anyone and everyone. She wasn’t afraid of not knowing what life has in store for us. Because she knew, no matter what happened God would be there in the beginning and end.

Her compassion. My grandma never had any hate for anybody. Her heart was full of love and love only. Even if one of us were angry or yelled at her, she wouldn’t hold a grudge. Forgiveness was an ordinary quality for her. She believed we could forgive anyone, no matter what they did. Forgiveness is tricky… But she made it seem so easy.

Herself. What do I say that I haven’t said above? She was the living version of a good soul that God depicts in the Bible. She made me feel safe, worthy of her love, and she made me feel like, even through my darkest moments, I could live a happy life. Because happiness isn’t about what’s happening to you or how life rewards you. Even in her lowest days, my grandma chose to smile and pray. She taught me that happiness is a state of mind. It doesn’t have to come to you one day, you can just have it. She always told me to just smile when I was having a bad day or didn’t want to talk because my smile is beautiful. Now, whenever I smile I can think of her.  

I thought of how much she’s been through and although she only made it to 8th grade, she’s so wise. She has seen things. She has experienced a lot. She has met a lot of people. She has been through a whirlwind of change. She has fought. She has cried. She has questioned. She has just lived.

I love my grandma. And although she might not know it, she is a big role model for me. I just wish that someday my eyes will hold as much experience that I saw in her eyes that day… and as I grow, I hope to have the same faith I saw radiate in her every day.

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scared.

This was what I was afraid of.

Being in this position.

Telling you how I felt and neither one of us able to fix it.

Feeling like there’s an incoming end to our story.

Unsure if we can go back to who we once were.

I know people aren’t meant to be in our lives forever.

But I don’t want to lose you this soon.

It’s not time to let go.

But I’m at two sides of the spectrum.

You make it hard for me to hold on when the rope you have me on is being pushed further and further away from you.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know if time will heal any wounds.

I don’t know if you’re going to change.

And all this uncertainty is the last thing I want to make you aware of.

Because you’ll give me the promise of empty words.

And I need more.

And maybe I ruined us

or maybe we were destined to be ruined.

Maybe this will make us stronger.

Or pull us farther than we ever want to be from each other.

Why is it so hard for two people who know they care about each other to work things out?

I pray to God hoping for a solution.

But it all seems impossible.

I’m scared.

Because I don’t know where this will lead.

I don’t want to lose you.

But I don’t want to keep getting hurt either.

And it’s like this a cruel game of chance.

Who do I care about more, you or myself?

Would I rather pretend I’m not getting hurt for the sake of our friendship?

Or do I tell you, risking everything, not knowing where we end up from here on out?

Will things return to how they used to be after a few weeks?

Will you be able to catch me up on the things I’ve already been missing out on for the past three months?

Or will I always picture myself running after you when you’re already miles away?

Gone already.

Running after a bad connection.

Risking my heart.

Deceiving myself that I can handle so much.

And my friend was right when she said the chance of losing a friendship is worse than any heartbreak over a guy.

Is space enough?

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to: Lyra

When our friendship began, I was cautious. Because up to this point, many people have hurt me.

So I wasn’t about to be hurt again by another fake friend or someone who’s only my friend for a certain class period.

But then that fire drill happened and you included me. With all your friends.

And I realized… you were different.

You didn’t leave. I wasn’t a burden.

That was the day I realized I might actually have made a real friend.

The year passed by and we got to know each other more.

We found out we were exact carbon copies of each other and we flowed on the same wavelength.

We laughed at the same things, had the same humor, thought the same, felt the same, etc.
We became close.

Then we synced phone details day by day. You ended up literally everywhere on my phone… Snapchat, Twitter, messages, youtube, etc.

It was awkward at first but we fought through the barriers.

We became friends.

It was so beautiful, to be honest. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I was cautious to tell you who I liked but I wanted someone at school to know.

That day, the moment I told you, I knew I could trust you and there was no going back.

We made it through that year, our bond growing stronger.

More guy drama, more venting, more jokes, more playful hurt. Real, genuine friendship.

For the first time in a long time, I was happy.

Happy to not be scared anymore.

Happy to open up to someone new.

Happy to just be able to call you my friend.

Because you were there at every step of anything.

I don’t know why it was easy with you, it just was.

I don’t remember much of last summer.

But I know one of my highlights was that long ass phone call. I’m not gonna try to guess how long we talked, I forget.

But it was my longest phone call.

And then the new school year started.

Our senior year.

I still remember the moment I saw you after 3 months.

I don’t know how to describe it.

It was like revisiting the past by listening to an old song that you still love and isn’t overplayed. That jittery feeling in your heart comes as you remember all the words, that’s what it felt like.

I was mad at you though. Cause we never saw each other in the summer. But I wasn’t actually mad. I told you about it and made it into a joke later. My favorite part about our friendship is that I could make the hurt into jokes because no small dent could ruin this friendship.

Or, at least, that’s what I thought.

It’s funny, we still managed to see each other every day that year. Life liked us together I guess.

When I switched into bio it was like the puzzle finally fit cause I wasn’t meant to see you every other day.

But the first half of this year felt like my selfish repeat. I fell back into the feelings I thought I got rid of. That you heard me get rid of. But you were still with me every step of the way in that and our situations were the same. We were literally riding the same wave. Yeah, it was trippy but what isn’t nowadays?

The guitar concert was fun mainly because you were there. That was the day we actually went outside of school for the first time and hung out/ ate food. Being the way we are, I would’ve pointed it out to you. But for some reason, I didn’t. It seemed lame. It felt like if I said it I would ruin it.

Then you were with me through the heartbreak. We vented to each other on Christmas. With the usual 9 messages or so.

It was a good Christmas.

And when I thought about letting someone toxic go, I thought about all the people I did have and truly make me happy, and you were one of the first that came to my mind, no doubt.

Those few months were hard but you made them easy and happy.

But… he was still there because he had a small hold on you. You were still his friend. And it hurt. I tried to let it go. Sometimes it worked but then he would come around again and it was like a refresh. You could go back, but I couldn’t. But it was my heart, not yours.

I used to think if you are still friends with him, the person who broke your friend’s heart, it doesn’t take much to be your friend.

But that was fucked up. So I let that be.

We bonded over our hurricanes. One night we had our golden convos and I told you to stop overanalyzing.

Life sank in and college deadlines were approaching.

I don’t know what happened.

The gym thing definitely set it off. The day you left me alone in a gym for an hour and a half. Because you saw a cute guy with some of our other friends.

But I forgave that.

Then I sent you some songs to listen to.

And you said you would listen to them when you got home.

But days turned to weeks and nothing.

I forgave that too.

Then I was stressed about asking my dad to go away to college.

But I somehow built some kind of courage and told him.

And you know who the first person I told was?

You.

I called you up first, even though I felt distant that week, I still called you.

I was already on skype with one of our friends, but I still told you first. Impulse? I guess.

And you picked up. And you were happy for me. I tol you this was why I was distant and you said that you noticed. But the call didn’t last long because you were busy. You said you would call me back. But you didn’t.

And it’s like everything piled onto each other. All these reasons to be mad at you, even though I didn’t want to be, simmered in my mind.

It all started to hurt me.

You started to hurt me.

So the distance kept growing.

Then you stopped coming to class and only came in the last few minutes.

I was left alone. And I convinced myself you didn’t want to be near me.

My phone became your replacement for that time period.

But I didn’t want to feel this way towards you. But I just did. And I couldn’t stop it, nor could I talk to you about it. Because I didn’t want you to see me as a horrible person.

Weeks go by and I know you know I’m feeling a certain way. But you give me my space.

I start getting more feelings I can’t describe. Hurt? Jealousy? Pettiness?

I don’t care for the guys that hit on you. I start getting jealous when I see you with other friends. I take you being distracted and losing attention as a flaw.

Which is something I never used to do before but started doing.

A few weeks later and prom is coming up and we talk a bit outside about it.

We weren’t able to take pictures at homecoming because we didn’t think about it when we saw each other, but I told you we have to take pictures at prom to make up for it.

So prom day approaches.

And I see you for less than a minute. You say hi, hug me, then leave. And I don’t see you for the rest of that.

I saw ou at after prom and you scold me for not seeing you when you saw me.

And then more stuff just piles on and on to the hurt. And I tell no one about it.

I should’ve been able to tell you about it… but I was scared.

I know you love me and care about me, but your actions told my anxiety another story. 

Then our last day of high school comes and you ask me, “Are we cool?” And I never thought to answer honestly. I just say, “Yeah why?”

And up until that point, it didn’t seem like you noticed how I was feeling. But you did. Then we took pictures. I had to call and text you to ask cause I didn’t want this to be a repeat of homecoming AND prom.

But something was still missing.

So that night, I finally rant to one of my close friends about this feeling and she helped me through it.

A few days pass and you tell me you need to tell me stuff.

Graduation day comes and I’m wearing a red graduation robe but you’re wearing white so you’re on the other side of the sweat-filled, claustrophobic, not really, gym.

I still managed to see you in a face full of people though.

After coming out of the stadium place, after we graduated, I saw you.

And it’s like an instinct too over me. Because, next thing I knew, I was yelling your name, running to you, and hugging you.

And we took a picture.

And for a moment it felt like we were gonna be okay.

You asked me to send you the pictures that we took so you can post them as a part 3 to your graduation series on Instagram.

I sent them… and waited. But you never did post them.

But it’s just social media, right?

We were supposed to do this job opportunity together.

But you never got back to me.

A couple days later, you tell me that you still need to catch me up on your life.

Because as time passed, I realized I didn’t know what was going on in your life and vice versa.

Because it felt like you were living your life without me in it. And you were happy. And I didn’t want to mess with that.

Then I went through one of the most heartbreaking days of my life, my grandma passed away.

I told you about it out of the blue and you asked me if I needed to talk.

I told you I was fine.

A couple weeks later, you tell me you still need to catch me up on your life. It’s been a month since you first said that.

You needed to tell me everything in detail but you gave me a quick summary over text.

And one of the things that happened was that you told me you had your first kiss. And I didn’t know about it until you told me at that moment which was about a month later from when it happened.

And that hurt.

Then you said you had to call me for details… I want to ask you why we can’t hang out. But I never do.

A week later, you ask me how I’m doing. And then you finally ask me the monumental question:

“Are we good?”

I don’t think I can perfectly describe how conflicting my whole being became at that moment. It would be so easy to tell you, of course, we’re good. But it would feel so damn good to get this feeling off my chest, whatever it was.

I spent the whole night thinking about it and the following morning.

Then I started typing a message in my notes and I would decide, in the end, if I would send it to you or not.

I typed all of the above in that message. I wrote out my whatever this hurt feeling is. I told you I wanted you to be happy.

I decided that I would send it. And I did.

You read it immediately as I sent it.

And you sent me a bunch of paragraphed messages back.

In summary, you told me you understood how I was feeling, you’re sorry, and you want me to come to you if I ever feel that way again.

You told me you noticed at the jump, that I was feeling distant, but you didn’t want to bother me and you thought I would come to you when I was ready.

I told you I thought because you didn’t talk to me about it, you didn’t notice.

Each of our perspectives on it basically clashed with each other and we realized that we should’ve just talked an communicated with each other.

And for the first time, in a long time, I felt like a weight was completely off my shoulders.

And it felt like everything was going to go back to normal.

Then after apologizing for a few days to each other, you told me for the third or fourth time, you needed to catch me up on your life.

And this time, I actually wanted to hear what was happening without feeling weird.

But I was still cautious.

You started sending me messages on Instagram again.

It still felt uneasy to me.

Then weeks past and you still haven’t got back to me.

On the first day of this month, you get back to me and say it’s been a while. I tell you I’m ready to hear it all. But I’m not.

I’m not ready to talk on the phone with you.

Because for the first time, I get anxiety talking to you on the phone.

But I think, it’s gonna pass.

I miss your call. So I call you back and the tone of your voice… I knew that tone too well.

You were gonna say you were busy. I took less than 20 minutes to call you back. But you were busy.

You were talking to someone else on the phone and you said you would call me back in 30 minutes.

There’s a part of me that’s sceptic about that. But we had that whole conversation and I thought you would change.

But nothing changed.

You told me who you were on the phone with and you got carried away and I told you I was going to bed (it was midnight) and it was okay. Another day, right?

So a weekend goes by and you tell me you were busy.

You call me on a Monday. And it feels like it did before.

Because you really have been living your own life. Things happened to you I didn’t know about. People came in your life didn’t even know about. Friends you grew close to this year knew more about your life than I did. And that hurt because you used to tell me the moment of.

But half of that is m fault because I was too in my head.

I end the call because I have to go to my aunt’s house. But I tell you I’m gonna call you back.

And I do.

And you’re on your way to the library to meet up with one of our friends. To talk about one of our other friends liking you.

Which is what you had to talk to me about. So you kept me on the phone so we all could listen and talk about it.

But why did I have to be on the phone? I wasn’t doing anything that day. You knew that. But I don’t know…

I listen to the story quietly then listen as you ask questions to the other friend who knew more about the story.

Then you mentioned his name.

No, not the name of our friend who likes you.

You mentioned his name. Phoenix’s name. And you knew how I felt about that, I told you how it made me feel. You apologized for being his friend that day I told you what was wrong but will anything change?

Then his name was mentioned again and again and again and again.

Then there were moments I felt excluded from the conversation itself. It already felt distant enough being on the phone.

Then you and our friend mentioned all these hangouts I didn’t even know you guys went on.

That was the moment it all sunk in.

It all got to me and I cried. While I was on the phone. But not so that you guys could hear.

So I told my other friend I needed to talk to her, and she found a way to get me out of the phone call so I could vent to her about everything.

Then I went camping and escaped from everything for a while.

And the day after I came back, you texted me.

You caught me up on something but you also told me you’re leaving for college on Saturday.

You ask me how I am and I tell you about camp and you start asking me all these questions like, “How long were you there?” “How was it?” “I’m glad you had fun.”

And even though the past 2 months, you’ve never asked me to hang out, I thought you would make plans with me before you left.

But you didn’t.

I saw on your social media that you talked about being booked with hangouts.

And if I wasn’t burned before, that definitely did it for me.

So…

you’re leaving for college tomorrow.

But it’s like,

you’re already gone.

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i’m sorry.

Will an “i’m sorry” take away the tears I already shed?

Will an “i’m sorry” get rid of my anxiety?

Will an “i’m sorry” make the overthinking seem ridiculous?

Will an “i’m sorry” fix the moments where you weren’t there?

Will an “i’m sorry” mend a broken heart?

Will an “i’m sorry” remove my puffy eyes?

Will an “i’m sorry” make me change my playlist from sad to happy music?

Will an “i’m sorry” remove the moments of heartbreak?

Will an “i’m sorry” erase bad times?

Will an “i’m sorry” stop my wandering mind?

Will an “i’m sorry” remove the scars of my heart?

Will an “i’m sorry” replace as a band-aid?

Will an “i’m sorry” fix the absence you left in my heart?

Will an “i’m sorry” turn a rain cloud into a sun?

Will an “i’m sorry” take too much out of you?

Will an “i’m sorry” be able to rewrite the pages?

Will an “i’m sorry” make me feel bad?

Will an “i’m sorry” make me feel stupid?

Will an “i’m sorry” mean more coming from you?

Will an “i’m sorry” mean nothing?

Will an “i’m sorry” save me?

Will an “i’m sorry” take away the pain?

Will an “i’m sorry” be something you’re capable of?

Will an “i’m sorry” make everything okay again?

Will an “i’m sorry” make me happy?

Will an “i’m sorry” mean something from you?

Will it change anything?

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poem: pretty girl trying.

10.20.17

Pretty girl trying

Twirling around

Flowers in her hair

Wants to be found

No one to call

No one to look for

All she has left

Is a scar on her big toe

Making use of the time she has left

Pretty girl trying

Jumping over cracks

Grass on her sleeves

Wants to look tough

No stars to wish on

No wishbones to break

Just a cloud to hope for

While she washes away

Tell me your story

Give me something new

So that the pretty girl trying

Isn’t the only one who feels like dying

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