dear reader,
This collection was bound to happen eventually. Particularly for someone like myself who is so publicly intimate, intensely introspective, and a lover of words. A few months ago, a heartbreak spurred space and reason to exercise a fair bit of self reflection regarding love, gender, and other young 20s things. For me, I found solace in wandering words.
So I present heartbreak makes space for clouds, my first collection of poems. As the name implies, I intend this collection not just to be the mourning of a wonderful relationship (although there’s plenty of that), but also to explore how embracing an unexpected heartbreak (or any unexpected event, really) can catalyze an exploration of self unlike any before.
In summer of 2022 I printed about 30 softcover copies of this collection and gave them to friends, family, really anyone who wanted a copy. This is the online published version, if you weren’t able to get your hands on one of the printed copies.
In writing this book I found quite a bit of solace. In reading, I hope you find something as well.
with love,
aaron
september 21 2022
heartbreak makes space for clouds
a collection of poems by aaron hwang
this book was published with their blessing.
written by aaron hwang
photos by aaron hwang
covers designed by alexa onishuk
summer, 2022
boston, ma
unthinkthroughable things
july 7, 2022 - 16:25
heres to the things we cant think through
some things we just
cannot convince ourselves otherwise
it makes it more real, somehow
keeps us awake, sometimes
finality to a feeling
confidence to a decision
weight to a memory
we cant think ourselves out of this one
it simply will not work
so might as well stare it right in the face
give a nod and forge ahead.
wander and wonder
march 23, 2022
I wander and wonder.
Hoping to be everywhere, among everything, all at once.
Hoping to understand myself, understand the world around me, all at once.
Hoping to blend in among everyone, where I am no-one
Yet also yearning to be alone, where I am my own someone.
This sole soul and associated pair of soles have found themselves
around the block a few times.
Still, there is so much to explore -
For when the seasons change,
which they always do,
and when I change,
which I always do,
this whole city is new again.
Like someone waved a magic wand.
and I wonder, how the city changes so often yet stays so familiar.
I like to consider myself quite the well-versed wonderer
Maybe still an amateur wanderer.
When asked directions I can offer little more advice than -
The north star? That way.
The pretty street? That way.
The other pretty street? Also that way.
The river? Really quite not too far away.
But that’s because I’m lost in my thoughts
and, more often than not, lost on my way somewhere as well.
By the time I cross this bridge, day will have turned to night.
I’ve crossed this bridge many times, each time a little easier than the last.
My day, as easily taken as night easily found.
In this city,
I wander and wonder,
hope and dream,
ponder and blunder,
all at once.
perfectly different
may 21, 2022 - 23:21
we are
like the sun and moon
intertwined in their infinite dance
that is not to say the sun doesn’t
hide behind clouds on days
the moon doesn’t light up the ocean
other days
the sun and moon
your sun my moon
your head covers my shoulder
my hand covers your hand
we’re perfectly different, you and i
like puzzle pieces
like the sun and moon
it’s for the better
july 6, 2022 - 10:20
there was once
when our better place was in each other's arms
for a while, until it was all we knew
until it wasnt
you realized this isn't our better place after all
not now, not ever, not sure
of course i still remember
we danced under midnight
moonlight
faces grazed by haze of young love
we tumbled over blanket
snow
my heart warmed by your body
i smile, relieved that now you're in
a better place
and im in a better place
or at least a different place
it's still raw, it feels too soon, but
it's for the better, isn't it?
we are better people
we in our better place
torn
june 13
torn
what i want and what i need
reach deeper within
and find truth and honesty
with myself
to live with it
and breathe it
until i believe.
that i’m ok.
but i’m not ok. who is?
who is
doesn’t quite feel like i’ll ever be ok
again
was i ever
were we ever
either way
june 20, 2022 - 19:51
don’t get upset
forgive
get upset
don’t forgive
either way, this too shall pass
as it always does.
there will be more
cotton candy skies
sweet tooth tongues
caramel hearts
what we have now
july 10, 2022 - 16:23
rough around the edges
worn to the core
still, I wear my heart on my sleeve
wrapped as tight as can
wround the tattered shirt
holes and rips from years ago
patched and sewn from days less ago
smile for the first time in a while
june 20, 2022
i smile.
it feels like it’s been a while.
i don’t know when i’ll feel it next.
but today and right now and in this moment and by myself,
i smile.
alone and far from everyone i love
lost and far from everything i want to be.
i smile.
maybe a sign.
a piece of me must be at peace,
right? right? right.
i look forward to when i’ll smile next.
hopefully sooner than later,
but there will be a next time.
right.
above the rent
june 20, 2022 - 18:09
oh to be a pair of birds
soaring above the branches
of bureaucratic governments
floating among the clouds,
oblivious to the consequences of
rent hikes and gas prices
one bird says to the other
"want to get drinks sometime?"
the other bird responds
"no, im a bird chirp chirp"
sunburst clouds
july 2, 2022 - 15:23
sunburst clouds.
a wave of tumultuous cumulus
blots the sky, covers my world.
only a few shades darker.
barely noticeable, sometimes not even.
"look for the silver linings"
they say.
the sun will come again.
instead, as of late, i embrace
the grey matte themselves
the shadow floofs
the sky dandelions.
"no rain, no rainbow"
they say.
the sun will come again
i step out into the down pour
i look up, for
as of late i savor
the droplets sliding down my neck
the added heft the rain adds.
my clothes, my heart,
dredged to the bone.
only a few shades darker more.
barely noticeable, sometimes not even.
i start to notice its beauty
the swirls and puffs
and shades of white-grey fray-light
it might be a good day after all
not despite, but inspired by
the cloudy clouds and waterfall
some time to be
july 14, 2022 - 22:15
make way,
take me away.
take a step back,
back again.
the quiet of self,
the familiar solitude.
me & my lilac roses
me & some fresh soda
me & a trashy romcom to cry to
me & some time to be, finally.
hi again.
it’s been a while.
welcome back.
in appreciation of sky things
july 16, 2022 - 5:51
a cloud drifts by the periphere
tails of whispy white
wraps of cotton folded in on itself
tied together by nothing in particular
a bird of color cuts through my vision
defying gravity with gravitas,
changes what we know to be possible.
carving its mark on this whispy white canvas
changing direction as it sees fit
gliding with grace and precision.
even a leaf, ever so momentarily,
an honorary sky thing.
on an adventure, fluttering towards the ground
but route undefined.
all sky things at the mercy of the infinite wind
all ground things at the mercy of overthinking.
fire
july 15, 2022 - 15:49
the fire burns within still
a raging fire
uncontrollable
blots the dark sky
lights my insides a pinkish purplish blue
sometimes it comes out in different ways
in passion, in love, in emotion.
always intense in some sense.
i cant always see it, but i feel it
sometimes its just a flare
for a few years here & there
but a whisp of smoke
or kindling on its last breath,
leaning over the cliff of insanity
ive been told to chill out
nonsense.
it’s not something you can blow out.
many have tried.
this fire will never be tamped.
it will rage from the day
i crawl til the day i keel
in the white of snow it will not tire
the black of night a camp fire.
spitter and spatter
good and bad
neither former nor latter.
it's intense, i'm intense.
i say this in
present, past, future tense.
drenched
february 24
we hope for clearer days.
but tonight, the rain soaks my body.
what more to do but jump in headfirst
with a shout, as loud as i can.
for tonight, in this city of soaked bodies,
only the rain can hear.
flightless birds
july 8, 2022 - 17:12
we were flightless birds,
but we had each other.
our world was grounded, too grounded.
we forgot how to dream.
one day you looked up at the infinite sky above.
you never looked back down.
from then on, you were a deflightful bird.
just sometimes i get nostalgic for our shared memories, no more.
just sometimes we still understand each other all too well, no less.
do you think of me?
i think of you.
just know,
i wish the best for you
even when what's best for you
is not me for you.
i'm not ready to fly just yet.
just know,
im cheering you on from afar
as you soar through the sky
see the sights on bright days and long nights.
i really am.
just know, i’m trying my hardest
to respect your dreams of microcosmos.
so i try to stay out of your way
as you spread your wings
and take to the stars.
but every so often i stumble.
every so often i fall again,
make mistakes,
or just plain miss what we once were,
what we could have been.
sometimes i get petty, or jealous,
or just plain not good at expressing myself.
i dont mean to be,
i mean to be anything but mean to you.
i wander these plains alone now, a flightless bird.
your tales of mystic mountains and fiery flames
have inspired me to flap my wings too, in my own way.
so i look up at the sky, no longer at the ground in front of me.
i'm getting better every day
but still have a ways to go.
i hope you'll save me a sky dance.
epilogue
july 15, 2022 - 19:00
the more at peace i am,
the stronger the current that pulls me back.
wave pushes ashore pearls,
receding almost immediately.
i am left scrambling.
they’re onto the next wave,
i suppose i should too.
what we had was a pearl of pearls.
but even something as stunning as a lilac
blooms and wilts.
i mourn it for some time, reminisce, ruminate
the truth is,
they saw me as just someone.
not their one, not even one of their ones.
but i don’t want to be just someone’s someone
my heart is done catching its breath.
ready to breathe fire on this city
and bloom once more.
and it’s the end of the end
july 16, 2022 - 5:21
it's the end of the end now.
the final page.
it felt like the end earlier
but that wasn't it, at least not yet.
so long, it's solo from here on out.
because it needs to,
at least for me.
it'll be better for the soul.
to not be long,
not stretch out the end of the song,
carry you along.
i close my eyes, lean back,
and fall — in love with myself this time around.
silence. the heartbeat stops humming its song.
let's start a new song when we're ready.
we’ll sing along as we write the lyrics.
line by line, breath by breath.
who knows when we'll be ready?
who knows if we’ll ever be ready?
we've reached the last of the last bar.
