meet me on common ground,
with a feather & tool of shade in hand
while the birds sync in parallel mind.

let the universe whisper
sweet nothings between our skin.
let the brown flesh merge
like water and land.

may our bodies be a field
of poppies as we dream of once again...

this feeling is a place of escape
absence in stagnant emotion
blank space
a feeling of regret in cloudy white
fog on a warm spring Monday morning

your presence creates a boiling within my bones,
inflicting scars upon my mind,
poisoning my heart,
it fills me with crimson brighter than the sun,
I've tried to cleanse it,
but every time I almost wash away your sins,
you refill my cup with more of this crimson paint.
You were my flower,
I was your seed,
I emerged from your body alive and innocent,
but my innocence has become yours,
and your innocence is an illusion

comprehensive labyrinth of error
fragile to in-extensive touch

it's hard,
my story is of love and of strength,
in which one i do not possess,
walls of water leak into my room as i wait to drown,
but my soul says be free,
it so badly wants to be,
but it be,
trapped.
In a web of lies,
a maze of confusion,
but a window of certainty.
Knowing what it wants,
but not knowing what it creates,
knowing that it is me,
but knowing it isn't what they want it to be.
My soul is at war with it's truth,
but in battle with it's reality.
What do I do?

A boy sits alone blinking away falling rapid tears,
lipstick in hand,
eyes glazed in eternal pain.
She sits in shelter,
tears in hand,
dripping like lilies falling through shimmering thighs.
She thinks of him as his lips,
red as crimson,
eyes shimmering like the glitter she uses to hide her pain.
Their love broken by acid tongues and toxic systems,
they remain fragile.
Fearing the letters that were long created by no one.
Face painted for lights to see,
his tears have ruined this canvas.
He hides the rain deep within,
in order to maintain the desert his flesh must remain.
Bathed in strong fumes,
clothes engulfed in flames,
she feels sorrow.
The only light is the multicolored flames slowly dying in their eyes.
She kisses his lips in silence.
Lips of cherry and mango dipped in crimson paint,
oh how sweet.
False labels tattooed upon his face,
while rebellious truth seeps from his wounds.
Her skin rains as his soul dies.
He slips from life all because...
dictation,
creation,
labels,
mentality

I can't see you through glass mirrors.
but I can't hear you in empty corridors.

Have you seen him?
The boy
tears running down his face like a shower head
Have you seen him?
the boy
rocking back and forwards like a metronome
Have you seen him?
wringing his neck
dangling from the tree in his closet
Have you seen it?
that tree
the tree that has hung infinite bodies
soiled in rules and norms
seeds of hate and malice
planted by those who hate us
Have you seen it?
the blood of our sisters and brothers
our black brothers and sisters
our native brothers and sisters
our latinx
our brown
our gay
our lesbian
our bi
our trans brothers and sisters
Don't you see it?
We exist on this same tree
divided

we journeyed through seven seas
love gave you sea sickness
you wouldn't grab my hand
yet you touched my skin
i let you fall
and you froze into the ocean behind me
you were never my Jack
you were the glacier that sank your own ship
the shot that missed your ear
I was the diver, and you, the shark outside my cage
wanting my blood
only to discard my bones
you had me
disgusted
ashamed
disappointed
****** up

if words and body become transparent
and bodies move into nothingness
let mine only see you in seance

what is happening?
we saw fireworks under vast oceans,
we found mirrors in quarrel caves,
what is this?
i stare into seas and see only sand,
i listen in crowded rooms and hear silence,
how do i navigate your labyrinth?
i'm sick of sending messages through steel rooms,
with no glass windows

i am a willow leaf,bound to the branches of a poisonous maple tree.
I am different from my neighbors.
I try to tell them about me,
but every time I reveal my tongue they spit toxins onto my flesh.
They are all I've ever known,
but they're the source of my pain.
They are the source of my hate.
Everything I value most,
they seek to destroy.
What must I do?

I found a penny buried within my throat,
sitting inside my stomach,
burried within my temple,
whispering words of my stars,
telling tales of my future's past,
guiding my fate down a musky road,
laying me in clovers,
tangling within my curls,
dripping into my drain,
over, and over again.

the universe works in and endless labyrinth of ways,
what brings truth,
what brings falsehoods,
a maze of opportunity,
but of none,
it feels like water,
seeping through plastic it holds it's grip,
on who I could be but it doesn't,
direction is only an illusion,
while I stare into the eyes in my mirror I feel nothing,
but lost...

on that night we gazed north at stars and confessed love
hands clenched and intertwined like grapevine and prayer in golden chalice
gifts from wise men on the birth of our love

time flew by and distance ached our feet
we loved eachother as you found another
loyalty was rikety as out hands remained clenched

my heart grew conflicted
my mind nailed it up
my tongue said hold on but let go
i was happy as well as sad

now that the nails have been removed
hearts are blocked by tomb walls
awaiting resurrection
awaiting and hoping that yours still feels the same

regretting the life I have chosen to live is not something I aimed to see,
the more this temple trods this earth,
the more this soul wishes for release,
happiness is a place where they both join in hand in triumph,
until that day, they remain at war,
they remain these never ending enemies at opposite ends,
the soul wishes for peace but the temple remains,
uncooperative

i feel like a pine tree
jazz dancing in my roots
body of bark
branches of composite
savor
leaves of creation

the wind blows like a hurricane
though im rooted in the ground
my conifer lie in silence awaiting...

it has become cold
but not for all
only for your reflection
a bulletproof window

wasted time on marble floor
sand trapped in a room
seeping out a window to reveal sunlight

a beach of perfection but pollution
sharks all around me
as i watch from the bars
yet a beautiful clear ocean

thriving life and vivid colors
i hear the hum of distant whales
but my lungs overflow with water

conditioner in my curls
in need of a thorough rinse
and i in need of the ocean

what’s the law of flight
when do we walk on the sky
when does a feather bloom like cupid wing
bow in hand trying to set a good impression
only to face moons alone at night

i thought i shot for me but i guess i shot for them
who will strike me with their arrow
when does a bow become a boomerang
is the ocean really a river
am i only a bridge

they’re in a place of lost hopes,
silent drums on weekday vacation,
in rooms full to the brim,
oozing tar,
nightmares on sunny days.

palms mismatched like large and small.
we breathe on different intervals,
you have never seen yourself like me.
i don’t like what i see.

clarity spoken in whimsical tones of timid grey
face of paste as mind reflects seventy-three
feet of cinder
passage of bright fog
destination an illusion of mind

what is solitude?
a cocoon of iridescent
paintings of oil on bulletproof walls
mama’s warm embrace in fetal form

a prison of darkness
where no one knows your face
where reflections are only imagined
where hands are far from reach
and reality is...

a place where beauty is created
creation is sentence
and sentence is desolation

childbed

touch me as brick turns into paper
a familiarity i once knew
a past life in present form

i sit in full awareness of your bare flesh
you reside transparent in most forms
my hand extended in subtle care
your heart belongs to memories

my memories resurface as fear takes a hold
of being used and alone
of you not seeing me
of me dying alone

in fear that my last love is my last love
so as you fill my brain and it forms a puzzle
speak to me before insanity fills my neck with thorns
before paper becomes brick

i am lost,
in an abyss of never ending confusion,
coiled in thorns of hollow,
rooted in fertile soil

the days before twelve haunt me still,
expecting those to die on the eve of my hallow soul,
it is reborn nine days afterward,
i am afraid,
i am drained

i have lost all hope for the things i hoped
my body has been at war with itself,
physically and mentally

i sit long days staring at walls
thinking of failed dreams and aspirations
as i struggle to live the life i lived before my nightmare began

i am here,
writing,
not fully healed but forcing these wounds closed,
taking my steps back into this sanctuary as if it is my first time,
as if it is my first step

i cannot let these wounds remain opened
i cannot allow my soul to be ****** from my very being,
i have to live,
i have to stand in me and you,
and live,
and love,
and learn,
and be,
strong

glistening wings shimmer deeply through unearthly winds,
a child striding past a field of poisonous thorns,
tongues providing false shadows blinding my sight,
i can now see,
the sky cries,
puddles give off reflections,
sunlight bounces off of each false shadow,
lighting the child's path,
open mind safety resides within this pure misguided soul,
immunity to poison,
resting,
deep within my mind,
foggy roads and clear paths,
angels guiding me to my wings,
wings soar above the things i once knew

it was on a windy day
the book dismembered on cobblestone
pages whipping in the sky
yet the sun shined bright

warm wind tunnels full of water lilies,
filling my cottage with fumes of nature,
fresh baked goods prepared in my kitchen,
the hum of inaudible voices echo through thick log walls,
silence fills this place as my phone dings in the far corner,
the smell of flowers and warm cookies fills the house,

gripping onto wood and string,
pressing and strumming as the peaceful vibrations fill the house,
I sea the occasional passing car as it shakes the entire house,
distant sirens exit and enter my ears,

I fill at home in this stillness,
another ding comes from my phone in the corner,
I walk into my kitchen and pour a cup of tea,
raw honey,

the table is stacked with board games,
the game system sits in the corner,
another ding,
succulents fill the shelves,

it is peaceful, hear...

There came a time when I realized the river flowed outwards
The west became Sahara and east Bombay.
The golden chops grinned in greed.
My lips were full in windy cold winter,
and you became hoarding supply-less supply.

if love was a place
i’d make it home
where i rest within you on beds of water

love is a golden being traveling through fields of war

the last time I was warm I was abandoned,
now I exist within a bone-chilling endless corridor,
I've existed here for as long as I can remember.
my knowledge of love has been replaced by anxiety throughout these long lonely years,
I've walked down this corridor for eons and I've finally met someone,
their body gives off heat that they cannot feel in return.
surprisingly I try to warm the icicles upon their beautiful soul but I don't know how,
i pour my heart out to a solid wall,
now I'm empty and dry,
my mind tells me to continue down this endless corridor,
my mind says they have no hope,
but my heart says stay,
my heart tells me to be patient and to surrender my warmth,
my heart says to absorb their cold and share my warmth.
My heart stands still yet excited,
like a tropical desert.
What is happening

‪there are people i thought i was close to,
friends family etc.
Now they act as if I don’t exist,
as if all my memories were a hallucination.
I write them letters with no response‬
I hesitate to reconnect
because speaking to the seemingly dead,
destroys my peace

is it you who's heart is always being broken?
or is it you who breaks the hearts?
is it you who crushes souls?
is it you who blames?
is it you who points fingers?
is it you who labels based on your past?
is it you who blocks goals?
is it you who builds walls?
is it you?
is it me?
or is it........

you?