Her Books of Color Wheel
she tries to be understanding
she write poems of appreciation
she love her parents so dearly
she keeps on seeing the good in them

she honor them with respect
with her words and obedience
sometimes some things get the better of her
sometimes she cant control her anger

she tries to be understanding
she said she's been years in cage
a confinement as protection
into extreme it became restriction

her books and pages full of pain , and
without knowing she became skilled
she became the go-to script of the silenced

her patience was upgraded
she was a broken glass ,
but a shining gem

she love so intensely
she can pour her heart out
she is a literature that made me further see
the beauty in pain and tragedy

she teach me not to intellectualize
my feelings ;
to seize what I truly feel
not to numb or cover it up
with too much shame

she wrote a book for me
she wants to burn it
coz I caused her much added pain

I collected all her pages
Scattered everywhere
It reflects my soul in verses
It requires me to see the bigger picture
I was shookt she write my beauty and mistakes

I added leaves on her pages
I dont know where our book may lead
It doesnt have to be published
We both write , hope , bleed , believe

Only time will tell
time will heal
time is here
I wrote her poetries
A muse I havent seen

in blue , in black , in beige
her emotions are swatches in color wheel