the remains of the day, of lost chances, opportunities gone astray
and now irretrievably demised, a quiet day, of writing, thinking,
letting emotional waters fall over me, draining away the oils of mischance and in the few minutes before the morrow commences, the eyes tear, and the heart too, for there is so much pain and confusion that cannot be done away...and there are needs unmet...one feels lost by a wayside, at a remote railway station, awaiting a once-a-day train, that is always late...

Accused of being generous, and my guilt at this false accusation, makes me tremble, for what I wish for all of you, is the small and the greatest, both be satisfied, but not by taking, but by giving...my poor clarity pains me, but I compose not knowing the secret chords required to please...but my thoughts are of you, alone, solely, my concerns have fallen to a siding. We are all so far from each other in physical distancing, yet so oft, when you write in poem, in message, in shotgun short comments, you evoke my depths, provoke my raw, unprotected, unmasked emotions to rise up from gorge and abyss...hear your cries, the spoken and the ones between the lines, well hid in the spaces between the words, where the kernels and the residuals of the important things exist.

it is almost 11:59pm, July 8th. it is already tomorrow for many of  you who race ahead of time’s relentless measuring, and for some the evening young, you puzzled at this nearly midnight missive, will wonder what has.overcome me.

pure unadulterated emotional fluids, many flavored, washing away the veneers, the coverings, and wanting to fix things that my intelligence says you cannot, yet the urgency of my desire is so great, that I can barely swallow.

perilous close to revelatory disclosures, I will cease here, seize here, what cannot be spoken of, and to think upon the notion of a successful life, it’s constitution, composition and break off pieces of me, that I can give away to you freely to patch the holes, mend the readings, via the ether of skin comforting even if imaginary.

I am drifting into the tender part of the night, when deceit is pointless, and I argue with conviction with myself that in our lives that it will never be too late, but I know I contradict my prior musing...somewhere between the fact that time is a wasting commodity, precocious and precious, lives this idea within, that there is nothing that cannot be navigated, recompensed, even forgiven...the argument goes on, the tide of battle switching back and forth, and for now I must be satisfied with the meagerness of I can’t give up, be at ease by acknowledging defeat, not just yet, and the fast arrival of a clean slate is a chance, a draw, a ticket to ride, and, reaching is a wonderful idea, full of compromise, extra effort, and tomorrow I may yet reach one of us, by reaching inside of what churns within, and have the perfect words you require, desperate need, come forth easily...

Here's the truth.
I lied.
When I said my car broke down
My vehicle was fine
However I very much was not.
I apologize
It was just easier
To say it couldn't drive
Rather than I had no drive.
Much more relatable
Everyones had to replace a part or two
I wish fixing me were so simple

I apologize for my being
Such a waste of love to you

We fight and we argue,
we scream like cats, and we scratch ourselves just the same,
but when we lay down,
with our voices muffled,
and our eyes aligned,
theres nothing else to fight about,
we know sweet because we know sour.

I’ve memories saved for future use
they’re gathering like a storm,
and they’re all mine - fruit on the vine,
I’m prone to dreams and poems.

You are predictable,
and reactive.
Calm and turning,
spinning virtues
humming truths.

I am stubborn,
and quiet.
Calm and turning,
twisting morals
chasing truths.

We are dancing,
taking stock of
tense moments
we would once sneer
to every resolution
in plain sight.

We are kissing,
taking stock of
beautiful orchids
we would once sneer
knowing endings
in plain sight.

So this is what jealousy feels like?
Solid in my bones
Burning in my veins
Isn't this is what you wanted?
To feel new kinds of pain?

So this is what connection feels like?
Deep in my heart
Messing up my brain
But this is what I wanted.
I'll forever need the pain.

Wide awake
My eyes sting
My head hurts
My mind keeps running
Like its got no place to be
My body lays paralyzed
As i beg from my soul
Please stop thinking
Please, please go to sleep

a quiet fire split my stomach,

igniting weary weeds where,

you used to comfortably breathe.

made sure your soul was soot,

before you took your leave.

Footsteps on marble
Sweetly quaking
A quivering in the soul
A rattling song of freedom
The hand of time upon
Upon porcelain features
Fingers fingers
gingerly tracing
a refined jawline
With stuttering accuracy
When red lips meet his
She confidently embraces
This one steady moment
Joining together
It all seems possible
Believing easily
With some naivety
That it lasts
Longer than the touch
Of a nervous clock
And with the last walk
She indulges an earthquake
Across the grayest grayest rocks

thing is,
most of us here

write,
not to impress
but to express

that's why i love it here.

Now there were two of them
Separated between thousands
of read texts and timely
chats touched by sound
but not skin  
Awake in the others sleeping
Sleeping in the others awake  
Restless as they wait
Restless as they wait

We commonly lay in curiosity and think consciously of biology and astronomy, how people get lost in the monotony,
how lives may change with more autonomy,
how to unravel human psychology and use the knowledge responsibly, how to create comradery and use this to increase the velocity
between two people caught in an apology to listen to the other audibly, sometimes the conversation ends in despondency but I’d rather live in truth with you than in dishonesty

She was stuck
in endless cycles
it seemed to her
more harm than good
to be a girl
in this world

Unread my buried poems
in worldly words of mouth
Unread the drops of water
from spilled ink on the ground

The breath of mouth
You unread when covered
with the dying roses
unread the doubts
unread the doubts
unread the doubts
of the mouth

Unread the walls of caves
from tongues of creepy lions
Unread the burning love
when falling on the clouds
In dusty foam unread
Unread the words of mouth

The taste of pennies
in her mouth
As she continues
to bite

Her lips
Her cheeks
and her
Tongue

Holding back
So others
can
Breathe

All the while
she
Bleeds

When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.

So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.

I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.

Perhaps I had lived,
Just as petals
Of a flower
In autumn.

King Covid, your domain is so solid
A lot of people are so stupid
A ruthless minority are so avid
Sympathy, they say, is outmoded
Soon this world will be exploded

King Covid your time has eroded
Your instructions have been decoded
A vaccine will soon be deployed
You'll be traced and destroyed
But What is our place in this world?
Is a question WE can no longer avoid.

hey.
so, there was this one day, a few years ago.
i think you know which one i'm talking about.

listens for a moment

right! and i tripped-
that hasn't changed, i'm still a klutz-
and you grabbed my hand and dipped me
just the way your mama taught you in second grade
and pretended to kiss me?

listens for a moment. laughs

yeah. that was the day i knew you'd always be around.
so, even though you're leaving now...

sighs

whether or not you want to...

turns around, paces for a moment

i know you're not really leaving.
because you're still...

listens, rolls eyes

yeah, i know it's corny, but it's true.
you're still right here.

taps chest, right over heart

you can't leave that.

A toast to life
Sad and confusing but beautiful at last

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

frozen to death
its all i can see
smoke in the ear calls to my feens
Im here and Im there
making it hard to breathe
back and forth
falling up but always jumping back down

why or what can make this be seen.

a thousand apologies more will not
make spoken words unheard

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.