forensicsunshine

[forensicsunshine]

Hiraeth: Yearning for the Unknown

A piece of me lies buried across the ocean grays and hues.

While I cannot remember the cold wind nor can I remember the smell of the sea air, I feel lost without it.

To know lineage is to understand history. Family trees and blood ties surround me but they are not truly mine.

I cannot say that I have my mother’s eyes nor can I say I have my father’s smile. I did not inherit their height nor did I inherit their quirks.

I am an unknown factor in a subset of known variables.

Loved, I am. Cherished, I am. I do not forget that. I have never known a world without them. But I cannot help but feel like I am encroaching on something that is not mine.

Emotions are such illogical and powerful things.

Maybe I could return to that town with the cold winds and smell the sea air. To experience the culture of a birthplace and exchange that for blood.

As I wait, I will collect and hoard the complex histories of my island, both the light and the dark. I will claim cultural knowledge as my lineage.

Someday soon, I will be standing on the north shores of Hokkaido, staring across the bay. And one day, I will safely set foot on that land once more.

And maybe then, I will collect that missing piece of me.

But who knows? Maybe I wont even need it when I get there

[forensicsunshine]

In His Arms

On the most silent of nights, she lies awake.

He wraps his arms around her waist

Whispering hushed words to soothe her ache

His frail, weak hands touch her chaste

She hesitates, but leans into his poisonous touch

“Why do you insist on holding me?” She asks

Searching his face for anything- a crutch.

He responds, “It’s one of my daily tasks

I relish in your insecurities and pain.”

She nods in agreement, only hearing sweet

phrases being hushed in her ear 

Warmth wraps around her body as she starts to  

Feel sane.

“Sleep, my love. I will never leave you. I will 

Always be right here.” 

Down, down deep she goes

“Because Fear will never leave you.” 

[forensicsunshine]

Talking Heads, 2017 (High School Angst)

I’ve lived my whole life in fear

How do you expect me to feel free?

Eyes constantly looking 

Ears constantly listening

They are waiting

Waiting for my next move 

Stalking

I’m their prey

Weak

Immature

Is what they call me

And maybe so

But how am I supposed to change

If I’m only looked down upon? 

I need guidance

But there is no one to show me

[forensicsunshine]

Mother's Day, 2022

You lived in a world you hoped to never dream of time taken out just for you is long overdue but you give out for free the most precious of things: love.

Children’s hearts screaming out for something true, lies are what they are fed. Arms wide open for those who are broken, carrying tired ones and tucking them in bed. Keeping them warm while the pain goes unspoken. Black eyes and scraped arms flood through. Putting hearts back together with paper and glue

Every battle that brews, you fight and win. It seems to me that love is dying.

Please, for me. I beg of you to keep them from crying.

[forensicsunshine]

A Leetle Short Story: My Love for You

I stood at the corner of the street clutching thin papers between my hands. Watching people rush everywhere in straight lines at the same pace in their black and white frenzy.

A burst of color suddenly appeared and you ran towards me. Dirtied and bruised with blood stains on your clothes. You ran. Faster than the fastest man in the world, straight into my arms, but only for a moment. You smiled bright, looked down at the thin sheets, and then back up at me, 

"Do you know where I could get that? I've been searching for a long time." 

I nodded excitedly,

"Of course!"

I brought you to a safe place where you could take a shower and be clean. I handed you a piece of paper, food, and some clothes of mine to change into. Then I returned to my corner, where I resumed my watch. 

A couple hours passed and you appeared in front of me again. 

My eyes brightened and my smile widened.

 "Here." You said simply. 

I opened my palms and held them together and you placed the paper back into my outstretched hands.

 "Wait, this-" but your attention had turned to something else. A tall boy with calming brown eyes. The contrast of mine. You raced towards him and he embraced you as he spun you around, dazzled by your charm. You were enchanted by him and I stood, watching you from afar, still waiting by the corner, clutching the papers between my nimble fingers.

Soon, your face became all too familiar to him and he disappeared. 

Your heart tore. Ripped into thousands of pieces. You felt like your trust was broken and gone. You began fading into a place you didn't want to be at, but you remembered me. You walked slowly up to me with tear stains lining your cheeks.

 "Excuse me," You tried, "Are you still handing out those papers?"

 My face beamed, as I shoved a flier at you desperately, hoping you would keep it close to you. I began to say, "I'm so glad-" 

But a faint call distracted you once more. 

On the opposite side of the street was a man with jet black hair and a leather jacket. His eyes pulled you in. Your fingers went slack as the wind gently lifted the paper from your grip and drifted through the city.

 I cried out, 

"WAIT! please! You need this! Please!"

But by this time, you had made it across the street. And you were no longer in my sight.

Days and weeks passed as I stood out on the corner of the street, but my hands soon became empty. All of my papers had fallen from my hands. 

So I offered all I could. A smile to those who passed, but none seemed to notice. You have not come to see me for a long time, but I wait, and wait, and wait.

I grow tired and weak from standing through the wind, rain, and snow. So I sit, but I do not leave. I catch a glimpse of you for a brief moment. Your smile lopsided and your eyes hazy. A man leans down to whisper dirty nothings in your ear and you giggle when he's done. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, but you don't seem to recognize me. I don't wave, yell, or scream. I have nothing more I can give.

I had cut out pieces of my heart and handed them out on the street. My childish thoughts, thinking that my heart would be used with care and caution was fantasy. Beside my feet, pieces lie torn and crumpled. The warm red has now faded to a dull pink and the soft rounded edge is now jagged and sharp. I slap myself out of my dark thoughts as I wipe my eyes. Quickly picking up the pieces of my heart. I desperately try to straighten them out.

I do so for days on end.

Polishing, cleaning, and warming them, so that they are new and ready for my own use. I stitch the parts together with string and I close my eyes in contentment. My heart would now be whole.

A rough jolt on my shoulder shakes me from my thoughts and my eyes snap open. There you are: battered, bruised, and hurting, once more. There is so much pain in your eyes and you cry, but you're here and that's all that matters.

"Please, could I have just a piece? Just one more? I'll take good care of it." 

You cry out desperately. And in my hands, lies my whole heart. 

And without a second thought I place it in your hands.