Look at me again
with those guarded eyes,
freckled with bitterness
like glitter, and the forgotten love you can still taste on your tongue.

Do you breath a sigh of relief, now that you're gone?

My want is an ungranted wish
Since my words shot down all of the stars
That you once cast your gaze upon.

you suffer,
and so, you learn-
talk about stars and lovers,
through scars, and
how they don't burn anymore

dreaming eyes,
dream about the dreadful lies;

the man in the sky,
isn't here sitting besides you-

the woman you pry;
maybe she's slick and sly,
it makes you sick,
and you wonder why ?

maybe it isn't about
love anymore.


the world has summer,
and it had your winter-

autumn withers'
spring too;

and the man in the sky,
he isn't sitting there anymore

the child you could see
in the mirror, died;

he's no more, maybe-
only as much as you are today;

and the bird you
could've freed;

you placed silence by
its side, and a song
on it's beak, so bleak-

bleached by the solemn
good-bye, and a seed,

praying, it becomes a tree,
and not a storm.

You’re a queen,
with a beautiful flower crown -
A queen who could not see my love,
and so she had it buried in the ground.
I wish you would see it,
but for as long it lies in my hands
It will sink through my fingers,
and be forgotten quickly in sand.
All of this because you do not see the wonders I see in you.
And it’s so difficult, love, to keep it from you,
because you’re a wonder, from your sparkling eyes to your curling toes. You’re the source of my dreams and my love lusting woes.
There is something so beautiful in you,
as if the wind just guides you to and through-
the gusts just pull us together, me and you.
I wish you could see it, we’re meant to be, but that’s your only fault: You cannot see.

You cannot see the way the angels have blessed you, but you do see how the bitter detest you.
You cannot see those who respect you,
but you listen to those who wish to neglect you.
You cannot see those who love and have confessed to, but you still long for those who have left you.
You cannot see me, who only wishes to protect you, but you are so blind that you must still guess who.
You could not see me and I became the one who was forced to forget you.

But the love will stay with me forever,
until the calendars reach the date: never.
It is a love I will take with me as I am buried into the ground,
the ground from which will sprout your beautiful flower crown.

When perception is reality
Your skin is your commodity.
Fighting in a game of love
That's lost all of its humanity.

Actions in derealised imaginings,
Senseless wanderings over
a frozen crest that once held you're heart.
You mined it, destroyed its core.
Smouldering smoke a deep chested,
                      ~cough~

You're eyes are dark now,
decaying in a wasteland distress.
Deserted death.
Life force drained consuming all,
But one flower, soul of love,
Let go, not betraying its beauty.













Far away he fled.
Her piercing coral eyes of flame
Evaporate my senses.
You face will stay askew.
Disjointed unharmonious debilitating dances stay, mocking my innocent play.




Free in space

My mind is here.




Away from you it's far more clear.

The last night we spoke it felt like the birds would never chirp again,
The love lost silence after each sentence was what I picture the inside of a black hole to be.
You closed your eyes and cradled your head,
Sunken and broken,
We sat on the edge of our shipwreck at the bottom of an endless ocean,
I couldn’t patch the dams with my words,
The cracks were abundant.
Today I visit the iceberg we hit,
It is still mountainous,
And I am still not ready to tackle the climb.

I've loved you unconditionally.
Love without limitations..
But strange your love for me has many stipulations...and always comes with a finger point...at my many flaws...
Overweight..blemished skin.. stretch marks..oversized arms...never a comment on how my obese my heart is.. flowing with nothing but love...for a human that has never fully loved me the way I do you...I will never be her...in fact she could never be me..and it could never be an us because of the limitations that has been placed on what we could've had.

No matter the ways we choose,
the ones we did not choose will be more numerous.
There will always be more personalities
than the ones we decide to wear.

I live as a boat that departs without announcing a destination,
choosing along the way which port to anchor on,
always regretful for the ports I did not choose.

I take with me a small piece of everything I have known
(and how could I not?)
so my memories cannot betray me,
so the places I have been can leave a footprint on me.

I follow this path blindly,
heavier at each step
(or with weaker muscles, I could not tell),
with burdens getting loaded and loaded,
with fears from other roads,
missing passions from other ports,
with nostalgia of passing landscapes.

I keep on walking to keep on living,
I keep on choosing some paths, abandoning many others,
Sad with every time I detach something,
Sadder even for the choices I did not make
(but did even if I did not want to),
I keep on sensing smells I never experienced,
touching flowers I have never seen.

I do not renounce what I leave behind
(Like Drummond: "from everything a little remained"),
but the directions I did not pick,
the river courses that never came to be,
the dry branches never to flourish,
the futures made impossible by my choices.

As I wash my hands on rough waters
I leave some of what I was,
some of what I think I am.
I let me go just a little
to keep on going.

All this ballast, this will to take everything with me
can do me no good at all
if my weight restrains the places I could be.

What callow and dead words have you written?
Your sword is but a nub; a shadow of the weight it once held.
Deftly attuned to the foray of maladjusted thoughts
That seeks an ending but can stop at nothing
At one time, feelings were sharp and new and uncontaminated
Yet further on it is shaved down
An inner core as black as the raven’s eye
And when the nub has lost its reason to yield
Will it be retained for posterity?
Like the memories of the freshly dead
Your written words will decay into oblivion
Until a new soul is shaved sharp
Forever willing and ready and equivocal