Can you teach a bee
How to be an egoist ?
Would you take a knee
If you were told to ?

How high's the limit
On how much the walls can speak ?
Teach a cat to sneak up on you
and you now when it does

However, fine
Don't truly believe in anything
How do you know
What you'd change ?
How could you see
That you're believing

Some days are the lasts of their kind
Fly away unknown bound to thrive
When something comes back
It has always been there

She can walk
          between
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                                by
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
                                                              f
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
~

i had always thought that love would feel like fire.
not in its rage or destruction,
but the heat, the light that flickers across her face
when it's all that i can see.

i would watch her smile as it slipped through the cracks.
she laughs like sunlight, even now
but i am hopeless and hollow and beyond all divinity,
i wished i was good enough to give her to someone better.

she looks at me like candlelight through glass
as if the fluorescents could never wash me out,
as if we lived somewhere that never existed,
like she would love me if i let her.

but there is no her.
she is the construction of a poet in despair.
she lives in my chest, hollowed out and filled with kerosene
and her fingers graze the matchstick in my hand

i think of her hair under moonlight
i think of her eyes closed in a midday heat that only dreams have
i think of rain, a rain that pours for weeks without relief
the match is lit and i swallow it whole.

That small town is my torment
And this city is my solace
The busy streets don’t have room for a pit
And the city lights brighten the darkest nights
The people bustling and hustling even on Sundays
Oh, they don’t even have time for haze
Remembering and forgetting don’t require wit
The best thing this city has taught me about suffering is that I should own it
I did not lose the pain at all
But this city taught me to stand up after I fall.

your stained cheeks
tell me you’ve been at
a war last night.
darling, your eyes
still sparkle
even when they’re
bloodshot.

red lips,
high heels,
a few bits
of love feels
like a burning paper —
slowly consuming me
out of uncertainty.

I met her
at
the local book-
shop
and for a
brief
moment in time
we
didn't feel alone
anymore.

there wasn't any reason
you had to say goodbye
except to get away from me
yet, you felt the need to lie

you had nowhere else to be
you had nowhere else to go
but you got away from me
you should've yesterday ago