the light of the moon feels like the burn of a fire and the cracking of a house that never did anything but love the way you kept the kettle on even after the water boiled because you knew metal wouldn't spark the way their smile made you. you're so silent you're deader than the branches of trees that have met their match with the concrete, you look down from the 6th story of your apartment building on pike street. you follow the fire escape with your eyes and you wonder why the house has to be burning for you to use it, and why it doesn't even touch the ground. you remember the way she loved sitting on the bottom step like a swing and imagining she was weightless. she never meant to hurt you with the way her hair felt like needles and her touch felt like petals, and you never meant to torture yourself with how you thought of her as a metaphor. the night is where sunsets go to die and you swear at the stars like a sailor when you know **** well the moon is the one who controlled the tide. you hate how she loved the sea and how every hawaiian volcanic eruption flooded it but never stopped it from coming to shore. the day's losing its lust and it's barely midnight and you haven't smoked in so long because you know what it feels like to be addicted to something that could **** you. her figure like an hourglass and that still wasn't enough to tell you she was a ******* ticking time bomb. you're afraid of the dark and maybe that's why you confided in her as a safety. embers in her eyes, the way fire's were blue at their hottest point and her pupils were surrounded by the purest color you'd ever seen. the funny thing is, lighthouses don't guide people back home with the intention that they won't ever leave again. you're like a left lane driver that had too much to think and your life is passing with every sign telling you to exit. you've gone by 18 red cars, 94 blue ones, and you have 2 more days on the road. you won't ever see her again. you won't see her in the ocean reflection. you wouldn't dare see her in the morning sunlight, but you'll see her years from now in every coffee shop, on every bridge, in every strum of the guitar you used to play, there goes your life, passing by, every plane in the sky going somewhere different, every vehicle trying to locate a home, and they're all walking on two legs, somewhere where the sky meets the sea, and somewhere where your eyes will never meet me.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
may your body lay completely still as you're so calmly in the position that let my incorporeal being become a living apparition but i'm afraid i can't stay and i'll leave the way i came with your window curtains blowing in the breeze and your feet barely sticking out from your blanket. the night is as dark as day and i'm colder in your grasp than i ever was drowning, and if i reside into an ocean, please don't tell the moon where i've been. tides will turn into cyclones and hurricanes will erupt volcanoes and i pray that no amount of destruction should wake up the thing i wish to touch the most. to whatever god who watches me during my nomadic and agitated disclosure, i hope he sees wind in your pillow sheets and the sound of cracked branches against their own brethren, falling to their death upon wooden decks; one might say, coming back home. if i reside into an ocean, just don't tell the moon where i want to go. you dream of places so far from reach that your fingers feel them on typewriter keys and doorknobs you wish you could open. i see locations off of the perimeter of your coastal psyche and i'm lost on beaches with trees as rivers and the sky as the only familiarity ground that i've ever known to walk on. nothing happens when your blood is rushing and your feet are moving if you have no sense of direction in the currents if you're not swimming and most certainly if you're not drowning. if you reside into an ocean, i'm never going to sail your seas and find what i've been missing. the pool you're creating inside your stomach leaving way to millions of tiny mementos in your pit, and you're still trying to convince yourself that you haven't been dreaming past your third birthday. blue doesn't ever want to see red but it seems to be just fine intermixing the two to a hybrid vermilion from under your skin and if you think that is going to make any significant difference under trenches larger than your mind then **** it, if you reside into an ocean, the moon better not know where you intend to go.
wake up. you’re suffocating again.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
at this point,
i don't see anything
stopping me from
hanging myself.
i would love to hang
every god **** feeling
i've ever had for you.
i'd put them in the washer,
then the dryer,
and hang them
on a small hanger.
i hope they're new emotions.
that way when i wash them,
they'll shrink a little,
and maybe then they won't
become too big for me.
maybe they'll even become
too small for me.
i hope that happens,
because at least those feelings
are something i can
manage to sell to others
with little or no use at all
without remorse.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
as it came closer to 8 am
on my fine august 30th, 2013 morning,
i read your pages
front to back
without hesitation nor frustration,
but somehow, the black letters
against the white background
seemed to combine into one
until i was staring at nothing
but a blank paper.
and you said that i'd
never understand you
because i was never one
to read between the lines.
but i now realize that
i'm not reading between the lines,
i'm reading under them.
i'm reading the white background
that gets overpopulated by
a society of letters
mixed into words, yet
none of them explained
any of who you are.
because you are the blank page
that stares back at me
when my fingers cannot write.
you are the blue faded lines
growing weary as i scribble
and erase in dissatisfaction.
you are everything that i cannot see
and i finally understood.
it is 12:29 am,
and it will be the
august 31st, 2013
new york times article.
and maybe i will enjoy you
while having my cup of tea.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 3:38 AM UTC
i am thinking about
all of the undiscovered
parts of the ocean
thinking of
the secrets
they must hold
inside of every
h2o molecule
two h(eartbreaks)ydrogen,
one o(bscurity)xygen.
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
hey, my love. i know you have had a hard day, maybe a hard week, maybe a hard month, a hard year even. but i'm here to tell you that it will get better in good time, you just have to not break down on me. i believe in you, and you might think that the rest of the world doesn't, but know that with how many people you know, you only know 1/1093423973th of the world. that's like a piece of salt on a pie. there's so many people rooting for your happiness, longing to see your smile illuminate your face, including me. i know that it's hard to always look at the bright side of things, but every day is a new day and with it comes a new shining moon and i want you to show the moon that you can do it just as much as he can as he travels across your horizon in search of what's making you so upset. he'll find it, and once he does, he'll leave for the night and try to destroy it for you. that's what the moon does. same with the sun if you think about it. they're a team. just like you and i. we're a team. and together we can accomplish anything. you just have to believe in yourself. you can do it. don't ever doubt yourself. i know what you're capable of, and maybe you might not know yet, you have the power to change more than just the world. you can change the universe in the blink of an eye. you are the change the world needs, and you don't realize that yet because you're stuck being the difference that the world wants. but we need you to stand up and be the change. we need you. and i know you're ready. maybe you don't feel like it mentally. but no one ever wants to admit what they're capable of. but here i am, telling you in grave detail. you won't let me down, don't ever think you will. 20 years from now i'll still believe every word written in this, and i hope in 20 years' time you'll believe it yourself. all the world needs is happiness, and to grow a tree all you need is a seed. be the seed in the world.
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
sometimes
i think of you
as the seasons;
you make my summer
warm and sweet,
and my winters
brisk and stiff
yet, delicate
and different
like a snowflake
in spring,
our relationship blossoms
like the loveliest garden,
but in autumn
like the leaves,
we seem to break
no harder than glass
dropped to the ground
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 2:16 AM UTC
when i met you,
you grew inside me
like a blooming hibiscus
reaching its full and
most beautiful
potential.
watered and fueled
by the passion i felt
when i saw your smile
from across the room.
don't look, you'll freak him out!
you smiled back
and then i froze
it was the middle of summer
and i was as still
as the temperature
below zero
i suppose,
that's what you call love
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
i was the
comma
whom was willing
to keep the sentence
going,
and you were
the period
who ended it.
though, if you
put us together
we were the
part of a sentence
that could have stopped
but still managed
to continue.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
she fell in love
with a subterfuge
of a human,
manipulating words
into timely and
recurring emotions.
turning smiles
into idiosyncrasy
and crying into yore.
Act One
he started off easy,
with the tip of a hat
and a sly smile so thin
you'd walk a tight rope across it
Act Two
he had a way with words
that swept you
off your feet
without fail nor hesitation.
twisting love into lust,
and happiness into heartbreak,
and there's nothing
you could do to stop it
Act Three
as the final act prevailed,
he left with a surprise.
playing with her
heart strings like
a talented guitarist.
a song so beautiful
she seemed to dance
little did she know, she was dancing on strings
Prelude
as you see,
that was his trick.
turning a girl into a puppet
helplessly relying on
the strings she was
suspended upon
so if i may, i bid you with this,
never trust a magician
because a magician
never reveals his
secret, nor his
tricks
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 3:18 PM UTC