I met my ghost yesterday, on the bus at a time young girls are not supposed to travel alone. I was thirsty for freedom; she sat next to me dressed like a wanderess, she smelt of some cheap perfume and her face a golden cage. We sat together like anthills and did not speak, we were immigrants of a violent history, she sold her body and I my brain.

Emotions are my lesson on what can hurt my pride
This is something of digression through how I live my life
Tainted like a disease I exclude myself from the obscene
With the means to indulge I rather not intervene
Cause there is anger entwined and my actions may be attracting
And progression is effective and might be a distraction
So a act of silence is common to one's things
But belligerence  accommodates inevitable change
Thus, what was lost shall be another aberration
For which it stands for your toleration
Under fraud and nothing at all.

Digging underground
Found the diamond
Lost
In the crowd
Soundly speaking on the floor
Beaten badly wanting more
Bruises
Delirious about the uselessness
Of therapy and Sunday classes
By the masses
Childhood memories of running
On a beach
Sand between my toes
Mechanics strange and
Wired like gadgets
Tickets on trains to seafoam
Shores when
December comes
Beguiling smirk
Gazing like a toddler in wonder
At the said shutters of others
Maybe in split-screens with
Vivid color
The lackluster utterings die
At the sight
Cat-eyed and wild
Sighing like a child at coarse
Trivial arrivals of those
Suicidal yearnings resurfaced by
Days-break
Dysfigured in space as shapeless
As the speech that defined it
Butterfly darlings my
Coat flowing on the windless air
As a cocoon I'm enveloped in
Bed by many toppled books to
Beseech in disparity at all the
Shared pairs I erased
Like tickled bruises all sunken and
Hopeless in keeping up with
The moment
Gloves stitched
Kerosene patched dribbled
Against sunscreen
Tired-awake unable to sleep
Fascinated with miracles and the
Shadows in sight
Dismissed while in a crisis that
Felt steep in the night of one's
Soul
A tourniquet strapped around
My elbow in the cold snow
What's the criteria for the
Mentally unsuitable
We are preachers, poets, wives
With ribbons in our hair
Cradled in hate
Dissipated softly only to
Awaken with grim morning
After morning
Dark-days of chaos-tripping
Laid flat on my stomach-ache
Removed by time like an
Hourglass state of mind
Written on my *******
Glamorous sheen caught deep
Within the recessions of my
Brain
Unseen and I imagine
I am that firefly caught in the
Glass container
Blue as lapis lazuli
Blue as the livor mortis after
Suffocating

This barren street at night
       Dust storms
Picking up the Autumn leaves
In cyclones
Decorations lingering
Halloween ghost
Hanging from a tree
The sensation of a witch
Being born at every
Hit of my cigarette
Wondering why more
   Other lost souls
Are not outside smoking
Cigarettes shaking in hoodies
That are too large
For them
Trying to solve this universe

"The best revenge is living well."
               - Dorothy Parker

I'm so far from where I've been
Words are only words not
Set in stone
Tomorrow will be better than
Today
Amounts to lies within habits
Hard to shake
One mistake becomes oceans
Of regret
Throwing it all away for one
Moment of peace
Some holy redemption
An immediate release
Promises I told myself
That were never kept
Lye the stones of my tower
High in disappointment
And that look you get
From someone who
Doesn't understand why
You push away their helping
Hands
To grow is to embody that
Betterment from those
Destructive impulses you
Draw with your mind
In the grey cement
I've told myself a thousand times
"I'm not perfect" how
That weighty reality
Becomes evident over
And over
To any freebird who wishes to
Wonder and die young
See the plane crash of their life
For others to mourn
Means nothing to nature
Who by nature is stern and
To those ghosts who died of
Exposure, hunger and
Malnourishment-
Do their footprints in the
Snow live on to anyone?
Was their life just a comet
That burned once upon a time
But now is gone?
To purify my intentions in
This life when I'm sometimes
So jaded by my maladies
Reinforcing habits that
Enable my demise
I could barely cross the street
I was so sketched by those passing
Eyes I would stare down at my feet
I'll try to beat all those instincts
Of not knowing whom to trust
Of being abandoned in the
Crippling dust
Of sinking inside most of my
Faults of
Never conceiving that I would
Get back up
And changing my mind when
The inspiration rusts
And choose to be simply
Happy for once
Smiling and laughing at
Myself
Belief that one day I'll be
A success and not succumbing
To all that pressure and stress
Instead of realizing
"This Isn't me"
I'll paint the picture of who I want
To be
My life is worth more than that
And where the univers guides me
Are the first gleaming steps
To salvation from all
My secrets and unrest
Being reborn from my ashes
I'll be the Phoenix
I'll take all my shame and
Plant it in the earthly soil
Where it will grow into a
Tree-
A resilient weeping willow

Every part of you is magical
Your laugh is a trick that takes me to another planet
Your walk is a brick that made up my tiny little castle
And when you smile my heart runs for another mile

Every part of you is logical
Your heart beat harmonize the song in my mind
Your breathe just lives and lingers to my tiny atmosphere
And when you open your heart I know there's a missing part

I just wish I could fill in that tiny little space.

We live in a world of wrong typhoon forecast,
Where expectations are better than reality,
Of unfinished sentences,
In a world of that's-what-they-saids

We live in a world of black and white,
Of day and night, of sun and moon.
That someone will come with a paintbrush
and splatter the screaming colors into your world
That you are no longer living in that world
but in someone else's world.