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Thought I would need to be blind
to miss the signs that
you were meant to be mine;
smiles stretched miles wide
and serendipity starbound
in the nights together
awake til twilight.
But your gentle touch
is now engraved in my spine,
cleaved by the same knives
which divided
once you decided
that you reside
over the line.

Memories that bind
still seize,
bleed in my mind;
I'm undone
but not yet untied,
I took a dive
and the only reciprocity
were my returning sighs like the tide,
the quiet and silence
of goodbyes
bottles now washed up on the seaside
freezing messages
left inside,
the past now magnified,
broken glass gutting
and cutting me down to size
leaves me grieving a lie
crying why can't I find,
tried,
died,
now pining to be revived–
my god am I even still alive?
Well I guess its time
to just
survive.
Indigenous citizen
struggling to stay civilized
amidst
monolithic visages,
stone-faced and stoic witnesses;
overhead,
gargoyles grin—
hideous grimaces
guarding ever vigilant.

Inhospitable city grid
dimly lit,
rain's residual liquid
slicks
gritty asphalt
glistened,
blacktop igneous
pavement glittering–
rigid obsidian.

Hidden within this vision
visits
solitude, unsolicited–
loneliness exhibited,
never fitting in;
island imprisonment
as bridges begin
quivering
above stygian rivers grim,
abysmal reflections glint,
swimming in viridian.

Water's brim risen
to vertiginous limits
I see
flitting images
of cataclysmic collision with
frigidness
obliterating to oblivion.

A dismal wish
reminded by
a grisly glimpse
of figments vivid since
residual shiver imprints
from winter's winds
whipping shins
and thinning skin;
I cringe, wither, wince,
my eyelids squint–
but I still live, so
no longer motionless
my frostbitten digits grip,
limbs never given in
to blizzard's pins
or crystalline prisms–
I walk,
despite icy splinters
and misery digging in
my ambition wins.
Took me over a year to write this one, just never seemed to come out right (and I'm still not so sure I even like how it turned out lol)... probably gonna take me a little while to smooth out the wrinkles (and I'm still not so sure I managed to turn it into the cohesive/coherent narrative i was aiming for 🤷‍♂️)
Abruptly
deep in my gut,
no longer
fluttering butterflies,
the flustered blushing,
rush of blood,
but utter disgust
bubbling up.

Knees buckling,
stuck in its clutches
when it cuts,
ruptures,
unobstructed
it erupts;
gushing upset
to puddles
and like destructions not enough,
still struggling to adjust,
im left
just a husk.

Nerves in flux,
shuddering
from as much as a touch,
thoughts no longer
lustrous luck
but nothing–
dusk.
So what of us?
We rust,
structure
reduced to rubble,
crushed
to dust.
This one is about that sweeping feeling you get in the pit of your stomach every time something reminds you. Even afrer being with them a year the butterflies never stopped, and now its like they just hurt. I swear im constantly trying my hardest not to think about it but it's hard when you shared so much (and so much of yourself) with someone that everything is just a constant reminder (when i used to think about how lucky i was) 💔
[Honeydew (Part 1)]

In **** communion
two bodies blooming,
fluidly fused.
Blushing, rouge–
human muse
illusion's hues
in but a glimpse,
a view,
maroon turned blue;
and like sweet honeydew
exhumed at the roots
feelings bruised
as you withdrew.

[Honeydew (Part 2)]

Cupid shoots,
I still remember how my
nerves were electrocuted,
how I swooned
at your perfume
til it became
my own execution,
the noose;
wounds weeping
bood red
ruby fluid plume
cumulus, creeping,
soon mutilated to
an excruciating monsoon.

Déjá vu,
youth in ruins,
entombed;
only suited for
the seclusion, solitude,
and crushing quietude that ensues,
born to be a recluse
far removed
no matter what I try to choose
or do in the future–
everything I love
I am doomed to lose.
[Untitled (1st draft)]

I am the transient man,
intangible phantom
banished to abandoned lands;
vast expanse,
canyons spanned–
chancing stance on
steepest slants and
shifting sands
as if the whole planets ******.

What began as arms working in tandem
became appendages ending in frantic answers,
this romanceless dance a tantrum
just to get a handle,
my damaged hands scramble.

Trying to meet the demands for a lantern
with only this wind stricken candle's
wick flickering, unample.

But no,
leave plants to wither
in sunlit strands absence,
animals rabid with famine–
I plan to build the grandest mansion
carve the
fireplace's mantle,
walls like anvils
strong enough to withstand
any cannonball;
wrought iron fence and brambles
not even god could trample.
Really not so sure about this one (as usual lol), not sure if it's a little too fragmented/disjointed or if it's even worth keeping 🤷‍♂️ been tryin like hell to stay positive lately tho
She told me she remembers fondly when she looks back
And I'm glad she has that but I have enough phantoms in my past
And I still remember the way she looked standing in the window hair halo'd with light smile sun dappled as she laughed
But nothing lasts
So im left alone again and fractured as if nothing mattered
Just another **** regret
Damage collateral
Cold snap,
winter waxing
last leaves fallen,
flapping,
winds gasping
pass through
restless grasses,
pastures
frozen fast,
snow like radioactive ashes,
apparition after
ghastly disaster passes.

Buried
epitaph and casket
resuscitated
capillary action
but heart beat,
******, battered,
fractured,
cracked in half,
practically shattered
by dying's
cataclysms
catastrophes,
calamities and accidents;
nerves wracked,
lacerations, lashes,
wounds vacant and vacuous
left vast gaps
except for shrapnel
trapped in skin,
flak became
embedded artifacts
I can't detach,
collateral gathered
from each battle and attack.

But I don't bleed lachrymose
splattered abstract;
no, more like a
tree tapped,
molasses saturating
gnarled bark,
honey laquered sap
sickly sweetened,
saccharine
heals these wounds
like plaster,
scar tissue grafted,
the wood will just be splinters
crafted into matchstick castle rafters,
stacked massive
even if the
scaffolding and ladders rattle,
platforms shiver,
teeth chatter to the attic,
bones become the real bastion;
not an empty and dilapidated house
but home
more like a holy chapel,
halls of hardened crystal
carved from alabaster, marble,
lapis, sapphire, and jasper–
an earthly masterpiece
carried upon the back of
an Atlas stature.
Idk if I'll even keep this one, not sure if I like it... just tryna turn the pain into something beautiful instead i guess
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