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.

i never intended
to take apart
all the pieces
you glued back
together

My love
When you're sick of me
I hope you have a good aim
Or that the knife is really sharp
Or your hands very strong
So you can get it over quick
I dont want to bleed to death slowly
Or gasp for air forever
I just want it to be over fast

Maybe an atomic bomb
would be the nicest way
to end us

The plump moon lights up my room.

My mind is now a flat graph
no desire no lust no dream

the cold winds from the rumbling sea
make no dent on me
I look at my palms
and see the cracked floor
gnarled roots of mangrove on the wall
blend seamlessly with all I have
like once I had her in this room
love together
taking wingless flight to the moon
but now I more like sitting here
prospecting no words to rhyme
not angered at the blankness
for in this vacuous moonlight
I wait without a hope of gain
without a despair of loss
unconstrained for time
contoured by fireflies
alone
recounting a new beginning
from the end.

A ring of natural perfume is adorned on you neck
like the sweet dew of April mornings.

Chains of daisies and dandelions,
which hold a thousand wishes each,
connects like bonds created by
you and me.

Let my hair fall
and inhale comforting bliss
while exhaling bothersome regrets.

Watch the sun kiss the earth goodnight
as it lets the sky open
to glittering stars.

None are capable of outshining the twinkle in your eye
or the shine of those soft lips.

None can compare to you,
an April diamond,
flawless and perfect to many

Smooth edges and clear soul,
a birthstone destines to resonate
within the heart, soul, and mind.

I remember my moms cups of coffee as a child.
A hazelnut aroma rising out of her travel mug --
a gift she got as an underpaid teacher who had to get her boost on-the-go
--filling the car like steam from a hot shower fills a bathroom.
I remember that smell ironically always headed to school.

I remember the first time I was offered a sip of coffee.
Not nearly as sweet as it smelled.
Bitter liquid that terminated taste buds like water extinguishes flame as it billowed across the tongue and  down the hatch.
I remember that taste vowing never to have to again.

I remember when my sister started working at a "coffee shop".
The one that competes with itself across street-ways,
and still has lines filled with downward looking drones despite being in Paris.
I wouldn't even eat the pastries she brought home
knowing the aroma entwined around them long enough for osmosis.

And sitting now, in the office of my retail store at 23,
Staring into my travel mug,
which looks like an above ground pool version of the black lagoon,
These are the memories that come to mind
as caffeine blocks adenosine from their receptors in my brain.