I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

If you always feel like you’re on a roller coaster
If you feel tired, drained
If you feel anxious
If your heart beats accelerate
If you get angry all the time
If you feel negative
This is not love

I won't die until you will
after all, you woke me up from a death
and have been killing me for years, so--

when my soul detaches it will find you
to whatever is next
mundane soul retirees

or

if yours careens intergalactic
you can bet mine will be right there
in final solidarity, never minding the beauty
swirling in milky stars.

Of you
Of your voice
Of your lies
Of your fake smile
Of your fake love
And when I see you with her
After you called to say your flight was late
I know I’m tired
Of my love for you

When I look at you,
I don’t see darkness
I don’t see rain
I don’t see pain

When I speak to you,
I don’t feel sadness
I don’t feel neglect
You always show respect

When I think of you,
It gives me strength
Because you’re so bright
My brightest light

When I dream of you,
I find myself in your arms
Right where I belong
Right where I feel strong

When I fell in love with you,
I knew it was true
Because you drowned my sorrows
And now I can see tomorrow

the nectar of love
only comes with
the poison of pain,
two
for the exorbitant price of one

standing
at the chasm
of life and death
destroyed by love
grief remains
as life’s sole friend

the memories of love
now
belong to time
and this aging body
to the five elements.

© 2019

the night my life changed
i was wearing
a white dress
with blue and red
flowers

and you were wearing
well, actually
it doesn't
matter

the night my life changed
it was dark
and you were drunk
and somehow
it was my fault

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

Dear death,

I have met life,
He wants me to fight,
But I'm so weak-
So can we meet?

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

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

I dreamt of tiny footprints in the sand
I dreamt of hugs performed by teeny hands
I dreamt of laughter that melts hearts that hear it
I dreamt of eyes that see colours I haven't seen yet
I dreamt of tears that could be stopped by my presence
I dreamt of seeing your joyous effervescence
I dreamt of reading stories about fairies
I dreamt of tired bundle being carried
I dreamt of looks by which I will be charmed
I dreamt of you sleeping in my arms

Reality
2 July 2038

Tattered Checker change-purse,
Zipper broken-worn.
Dented tin-full toolbox,
Sat with Clipper horn.

Handkerchief wash-snot-clean,
Work-boot bright-black-sheen.
Sweaty first dinner jacket,
Dusty rust-skin tack.

Stain-fold loving letters,
Hand scribed fuzzy matter,
Words he couldn’t spell,
Fear of burning hell.

Loved his owned reality,
Lived her life true well.

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

We don’t see the carrots to be cut,
We see the sharp knife that could cut us.

We don’t see the bridge,
We see the other side of the railings.

We don’t see painkillers,
We see medication we could drown ourselves in.

We don’t see the train,
We see the tracks we could lay on.

We don’t see the nice view,
We see the cliff's edge we could jump off.

Rose in a dew
I thought I caught
a glimpse of you.

Zooming in
I thought I can
get closer.
Only to eye on
upon a river
amid myriad
over looking stars.

A drop spans out
to be a sea
neither did it tarry.
I thought I would
give up that big
is not for me.

But yet a scene
never washed away
is intact unblurred
beneath the million
waves of the sea.
I thought the moon
will give up!
It can never touch
but always returns
over the sea
can't forget a scene.
So is me
once that
I chanced to see.

I come
To you today
With yet another scheme
For a wild, foolish adventure.
Coming?

We spoke of our tomorrows
and whispered a paragon promise,
as laminated truth,
never knowing any other texture
for all we had were our eyes
conveying this pledge
our gazes outshine - glowing,
we could never journey
on borrowed moonlight

suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option

My words became
knives.
A paragraph,
a sword.
And when I
made
my first speech,
the room
                was
                        hit
                             with
                                            a
                                                    grenade.

In my apartment I often hide
Catching glimpses
Of nature that exists outside

Deeply rooted the trees remain dignified…
They know it’s not them
But the people who have me terrified

Here I say
And I hand you the loaded gun
You promise you’ll never pull the trigger
But as soon as you can blink
We are fighting
You don’t even think
Boom
The gun goes off

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

When I say
that you are my Sun,
I don’t mean that you are
Luminous,
Brilliant,
Gilded,
Beautiful,
Bold,
Warm,
Or even the center of my universe.
I simply mean that
I cannot look at you
Without hurting

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

that I find peace,
   a sort of push-it-away
   and give-myself-space
Peace.

I am tired
of trying to compete
in a one mans race

My mother never taught me
how to he happy alone
she taught me that disossociation
  was peace.

this peace would eat me
I am a composting wasteland
the seagulls peck at my brain--
--I never knew such pain
  than doing things
   the wrong way
  I still pay
    everyday.