#poam

⋆𝑀𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑟.

but I can’t help but touch you

to see if it will burn.

Your words,

like sparks from a nearby campfire,

set ablaze my heart and soul.

They leave me breathless.

But even flames

need air

fake smile

Fake face

gotta be the reliable one

mama says I’m lonely

so I make fake friends

fake friends say I’m stupid so I get on the internet

make a fake self

teacher says on the internet you gotta know what fake and what’s not

but if I’m fake what does it matter anyways

maybe I should be an actor

but I’m alway acting

have fake friends so I build a fake village

then I fake burn it down

guess I gotta fake pretty now too

A hoodie and stool I don't own. A mason jar and boxes of them. This artwork started in Winter as the walls look more sad and gray. I got board with it, as you can see the blackened wall and ring underneath the stool done in spring. Got back into it. fixed up my messes from spring. I added warmer tones in the summer as you can tell from the bottom door and green wash on certain objects.

This painting tells a story. A story of how you can make mistakes and that your life will never be perfect. Though it's a life. In the end, those mistakes will contribute to something beautiful.

You were there — 

In the way a shadow stands behind you, 

Present, but cold. 

A name on paper, 

A voice too sharp, 

Hands built for work but never for holding. 

You taught me distance 

Before I knew the word, 

Showed me silence 

Like it was love. 

I learned early 

How to want without asking, 

How to shrink so you wouldn’t break me, 

How to take what little you gave 

And call it enough. 

But it never was. 

I needed softness, 

And you were stone. 

I needed arms, 

And you were walls. 

I needed a dad — 

And you were just a man 

Who gave me his name. 

I grew up searching 

For something I should’ve had, 

In every kind word, 

In every warm hand, 

In every voice that stayed gentle. 

And maybe that’s your legacy — 

The hollow space you left 

Taught me to crave fullness. 

I don’t hate you. 

But I don’t miss you either. 

Because a father is blood, 

But a dad is heart — 

Wonderful rain bristling down as inside the Nguyen Pho & Grill. As the brown floor is shining and glistening as bright as the stars.

walking by the restaurant before the rain you can smell freshly cut grass.

Strong scent of the rain petrichor.As cars honking and splashing as they drive by.The rain is going pitter-patter on the window.

I taste cold coffee boba touch my tongue and the boba slowly goes down my thoughts.

As the food is brought out I taste the sweet and nice nutty flavor of the food I ordered.I feel the warmth of the food I order and its silky bowl.