Into an abyss
Into a deep hole of ripples
or

a formality of our imagination

Floating in the imagery of a shadow
or
in forms of light

The good or the bad
One can lose sense of self and mobility
When returned from such abyss
Shivering
Hungry
Grieving
No fault of our own
No regret

realizing to only fall for ourselves into the abyss.

Endless self love.

Cheeks aching
Thighs shaking

Am I alive?
Are you real?
I like how this feel     s

Will you be my Valentines?
                                                                                                                 No.


Oh, okay.

You rip my heart out of my chest,
Pink ruffles and all,
And crumble it up.

You swish swish swish it into the trash,
You feel so powerful.

It lays there,
Bottom of the barrel,
Crumpled and beat black and blue.

The pink ruffles are now zig zag bright red.
It wheezes out in desperation.

I scramble to the bin,
Trying to scavenge the leftover pieces.

I pick through the trash,
I look ridiculous,
But I can fix this.

My fingers run over broken glass,
Paper, and even banana peels.

I find it,
The last remnants of my beating heart.

It’s still crumbled up,
But this can work.

I start from image.

I steam press it,
Whisper it sweet nothings,
And kiss it back to life.

It beats.
It beats,
It’s beating.

My heart is alive once more.

Will you be my Valentines?

Yes, heart, I will.

Monkey banana,
Climbing trees and smoking canna
bis, it's bliss, over the abyss.
Monkey banana,
No pants, just bandanna,
Screaming "ooh ooh aah aah"
from inside my cabana.

On banana flower's *******
Three avaricious bats suckle.
Above, few still circle.

Casual ***
is like throwing a banana
down a stairwell
which literally means nothing
until the building you're in
starts asking the banana
to climb higher and higher,
now trapped on the rooftop
where bananas get cornered
for spending so long
inside, like
What were you doing there
just renting? Gee
So where do you think the banana's
Gonna go? Yuppp.

It ducking jumped, k? And that's
Why people be slippin'
(Sometimes on banana peels)

You looked outside the window and smiled
"Can you make some jam for us?"
Obliging, you did so
You didn't know what flavor they wanted

So you did every single one
Blueberry, raspberry, banana
A plethora of colors comes into view
You always wanted to be an artist
To embrace the colors you see
A chance to be happy
But you're stuck making jam for them
Forever and always

At least it tastes good