It's always you, whom I miss
It reminds me of the perfect blue
on purple sky,
I attach him on a beguiling lullaby retracting the memories of the sea
where the strings like constellations
connect us; You can never be apart from the ocean.

there are two types of sadness

there’s the kind of sadness
we ignore and
try to get rid of it
by finding new things to do
or we find someone to talk to
by blatantly avoiding any type of conversation
about feeling sad
about having any feelings at all
and then there’s that kind of sadness
that takes over
and it consumes any activity we do
we know it’s there
and there’s no possible way to avoid it
so we feed it exactly what it wants
it craves the sad music
it craves the isolation
it craves the anxiousness
and the sadness comes storming in
it has no manners
here we are calling sadness, an “it”
when all it is
is a feeling
that most people
call home

let's travel to the tracks trains play;
love like ghosts with endless pulses
for your heart holds the haul of many loves,
remembrance is but a losing game

through the corridor,
the steps of your heart have a beat
the balcony on the second floor,
the creases in my sheets

guilt has not but one form,
but thousands
some persist in prolonged periods;
prowling through the past programs of the mind
while many blow wind in your eyes,
each time the sun goes down