i breathe in chemical aurora borealis
i dance in ballrooms with no one watching

he believed we were going to be inseparable lovers encaged inside of barbed wire
he believed i would be his muse,
till his last breath

but i breathe in chemical aurora borealis
i dance in ballrooms with no one watching

he breathes in rose blossomed newlywed smiles
he dances in spite of the acid rain

he believed we were an unstoppable tsunami
destined to keep growing and growing
enveloping all things into our youthful hearts

i believed we were a radioactive volcano
tension, tension, and tension
until suddenly we burst
into violent lava
and wreak havoc on the binds that hold us
together

he saw our glowing embers
never yet thought of the impending destruction
we would cause
with our hurricane stubbornness
and tornado hotheadedness

because

i breathe in chemical aurora borealis
i dance in ballrooms with no one watching

he breathes in idealistic remedies
he dances on stage as the curtain draws

he believed we would face this world together
like uplifted doves carrying olive branches in their beaks
i believed we would crumble
like every clumsy ancient civilization

but still i rest here,
with eyes devoid of aurora borealis projections
and i wish
that i would have
surrendered to his tsunami

i need to grasp the feeling of being washed away instead of hanging on to loneliness like it’s the last straw of my far fetched happiness
wash me away
i am useless if you cannot love me

there’s this boy who looks like my first celebrity crush
he’s taken by a beautiful girl
with cherry painted lips and a golden smile
oh, what i would give
to get lost in the labyrinth of blossoming love
to hear the accordion singing its recycled cheesy song
but it dives and curls and the wind is blowing in a strange manner
exhausted feelings catch up to me

there’s this boy who makes me scared for my soul because i like him so, but i’ve never met him
that’s how all my love songs go
nobody ever realizes
nobody ever knows
they always slip through my sweaty fingers
and their deep voices just become shallow echoes

there’s this boy who is the star in every show

there’s always the side character who pines
and never gets loved
it hurts to be so empty

scared of the dark and of fire swallowing me in the middle of the stubborn night
setting my closet ablaze
shirts turning to embers as i slept beneath the smoke
and we would have to stand by the mailbox
but someone was always left behind.
it usually ended there.

but my restlessness soon turned into a snowflake, falling from the chilled sky
onto the mailbox outside my house
and melting.

my writing is a gigantic forest fire of clichés
slowly charring in my eye view.
unlike the snowflakes that flew from
my brain.

and i’m still kind of scared of the looming darkness
and the creatures inside of my closet
still kind of worried about my house catching fire
and losing all my belongings
but what’s to that?
what do i actually own or belong to?

blue is blinded rage

fear lasts and i can’t breathe in this smoke…in this chemical kingdom…that they all love…smog and smoke and strangulation….and no one cares…?

cause elvis still kept singing jailhouse rock
even though he never went to jail
and the seas are still operating in the exact same way they always have been
celebrities still think they’re all that cause us feeble people put them on pedestals
the moon is still a refuge to lost stars spread upon the frivolous lands
fire still burns, even at night
even in your closest
even if you think you’re safe by your mailbox
even if people tell you that you’re worth
it

the smoke will envelop you
the smog will catch up to you
the ashes will become you


….
i’m afraid it will take away what i don’t have

they tore down the pool in my hometown
the place i went during the summer to cool off
my old stomping ground to go for fun
my childhood is slipping further and further away
every single day

i don’t want to be a woman
standing on a suitcase packed with psychedelics
losing her remaining mind in a ditch on the side of the deserted road.
i don’t want to be a woman
who’s taught to love herself but the others around her
are peach trees in summer
with lips plump and red
with tiny thighs that extend.
i don’t want to be a woman
with frail bones because the calcium deficiency caught her early
shouting for her knees that are weak
and for her obsolete brain waves that forget their true place.
i don’t want to be woman
following the trail until it suits her no more
creating a secret code then tossing it into the river
with jaguar eyes and a lopsided smile
she’s fine with letting new histories die in her arms.
i don’t want to be a woman
in all truth, i don’t want to be associated with anyone
i don’t belong in this body, in this mindset, in this world
every word on each paper is screaming at me to rebuke my inner organs and to become a knight without limits
because i don’t believe in speaking up for the sake of speaking up.
i don’t want to be a woman
or a man for that matter
i just want to exist in the forest fires of los angeles
the city with no angels
no reason to be endowed with this city of torches and absolute tomfoolery
but look where i am now
i discarded my existence for fame and rash decisions
i don’t want to be a woman, do you?
if i put on a halter top and show you more skin, would you love who i am or the flesh that is impure and shameful?
i don’t want forced views to be my condemnation
i don’t want your silk dresses and pearls.
sham admiration is not my master
nor will it ever be in my mind or my soul.

        i don’t want to be woman, do you?