treacherous are my
own thoughts — for they are daggers
I hold on the blade

head raised to the sky —
in a way, praying you won't
stop what you're doing

not in my room — yet
out here in the midst of this
storm — I feel at home

silence, your silence
is not a void — it is a
warmth I come home to

you, who keep singing
a song after leaving the
room — coming back and
picking up where you left off —
like you never even left

our days came with rain
the cold kissed my lips — I wish
                           you did it instead

focusing on my
pain is how I lose the hand
I'm holding right now

YOU emanate GRACE
that to say — you're beautiful
would be           REDUNDANT

right at that moment
when the sun disappeared, I
should've broke orbit
instead I stayed in place — stuck
exactly where you left me

will you call my name
again, the one with double
letters where yours have

you hear my nightmares
because no one would take them
and you would tell me
you had one too last night as
if it's not mere chance — but fate

take me by the hand —
that is how I'll know for sure
that I still exist

if you're the sea I'd
easily drown in — I am
the sea-beaten cliff
you can safely wonder from —
of carelessly jumping off

muffle every groan
and moan,
                     and whimper,
                                                 and sigh
with your mouth on mine

to those who told me
they did it for my own good —
I'm not good — what now?

inside the tunnel
the clown made you cry again
I promise not to

up at 2 am
— chasing after something lost
like I'm losing time

your kind
of gorgeous
brings me
to my knees
so hard —
it shouldn't
be allowed

why does thunderclap
over a sunlit sky — feel
like an oath you'd break

but then the rain came
where each drop planted a kiss
on my skin — sweet, soft
and tender — exactly where
you promised each one will be

now each thunderclap
over a sunlit sky — is
hope I believe in

things I left unsaid
walks the plank that is my
tongue, but they won't jump
and now roam my mouth — ghosts with
a LIFE more DEAD than ALIVE

I can explain the
concept of infinity
better than I can
comprehend the breadth and depth
of the space you have for me

if I end up
                   dead
to you,
             I hope you'll keep all
the green bones left at
the funeral pyre — show them
to me the next time we meet

the thing about it —
walking for miles with storm clouds
overhead is that
the sun becomes a distant
memory, and the shade — home

I might as well live
in my very own country
— PROCRASTINATION

is it because I
have yet to taste that I have
yet to
           understand

maybe it's not them
you miss — perhaps it's yourself
                back when you're happy

lost — yet again — like
the only thing I succeed
in is in failing

the sound of rain on
a moving train makes me wish
the trip was longer

even I can't tell
anymore, which of the things
                    I say are true / lies
but for some unknown reason
you're here, you know who I am

you know you've got it
bad when you check your watch and
what was 10 is 2

if you didn't sleep
last night, did today ever
turned to tomorrow

I can change the room
but every time you enter
all the noise softens

our love can take a
different shape, HISTORY —
the one we shared — won't

I'd like to take your
glasses off someday, and set
them on a table
then I'll lean forward, as slow
as the way
                        you
             stir
                        your
             cup

in the end, it's not
the time difference but the
difference in us

know that if I leave
I didn't stop choosing you —
I stopped choosing me

sometimes people choke
on something edible or
wild — like his secrets

keeping a secret
was a spark in my bare hands
'til it was  —  the SUN

I carry you with
me — heavy keys to locks that
I no longer have

my skin is foreign
land — just as my hand is a
foreigner on yours

fleeting orange sky
stop — before I sing sadly
through dark winter nights

for eight hours a day
I die at my office desk —
and then I drive home

does it keep you up
at night — waiting for the when
in WHEN I GROW UP . . .

ᴵ touch me
on my palm
like I'm a flower
you mean to open

ᴵᴵ touch me
between my fingers
like I'm a sea
you mean to part

ᴵᴵᴵ touch me
in my arm
like I'm a sheep
you mean to guide

ᴵⱽ touch me
on my shoulders
like I'm a wall
you mean to hold

ⱽ touch me
on the nape
like I'm cards
you mean to shuffle

ⱽᴵ touch me
on the side of my face
like I'm braille
you mean to read

ⱽᴵᴵ touch me
on the lips
like I'm cherries
you mean to pick

ⱽᴵᴵᴵ touch me
on my neck
like I'm a glass
you mean to drink

ᴵˣ touch me
on my chest
like I'm a drum
you mean to beat

ˣ touch me
like you mean it

I don't wish to be
where you're not — your absence has
embittered life there

we had that one old
photo that always reminds
me how I wanted
to have kids with you, and you
did have kids — just not with me

Mondays are for things
often left open from the
night before — close me

living alone, I
thought the sea was a distant
dream — 'til I cried one

I am losing sleep
over the matter of why
I am losing sleep