Beyond the wilderness,
Where all the stars disperse,
Into asymmetrical constellations,
I still lie there and talk in silence,
To ghosts who don't scare me anymore,

The girl around the bend,
Who sings under deserted bridges,
In vacant nights, used to be my friend,
Until one night a song,
Dissolved her into tears.

The boy who sits alone, on a park bench,
Used to be my friend,
Until one day,
He walked away into blurry horizon,
And never looked back.

The children with blonde flaxen hair,
Playing hide and seek in the garden,
Used to be my friends too,
But they grew so fast,
And left for exploring the world.

The old couple who laughs,
Sitting on the couches in their lawns,
Used to be my friends,
Until the woman died,
And her husband followed her to the grave.

And I'm left here stranded,
Under these broken stars,
Wondering if anyone stays forever,
They come, they stay for a little while,
And they fade out, I must learn to move on.

Don't wait, I'm not coming home.
Someday you'll forget me
and I'll forget you.
Don't search for me,
I'm lost.
This emotion is absurdly bitter,
biting into my paper veins; gnashing.
You won't know where I've bled.
Someday, you'll forget my voice
and I'll forget yours.
This moment is a void
flooding with intangible vacuum.
My lungs are ripped open,
did you know how it feels to die?
Don't forget we counted stars
of the starless sky.
I'm drowning but it doesn't matter,
it's not like I can breathe
anymore anyway.
Don't forget you used to tell
bedtimes stories to ghosts
when you thought I fell asleep;
with your hand in mine
the way sun fits into skies
that are not his home.
The miles I've walked away
mean nothing because
I'll turn around and run to you again.
Don't forget I gifted you
the other half of my dream
because you said
you could never dream.
Someday I'll forget
the touch of your fingertips
against mine
and you'll forget mine.
I'm a kaleidoscope spinning
without direction,
shattering and falling
into shards
like a screaming avalanche.
I'm glacial bones,
someday you'll forget
the coldness of my eyes
and I'll forget yours.
The azure of the sky merging
into orange of sun
is only because
they've learned
to be together
and conjure another color.
You and I are oil paints
splattered on black canvas,
a dark vastness
they can't measure.
Someday I'll forget
the number of your scars
and you'll forget mine.
You're stubborn and beautiful,
you'd say you want to take a dive
into the clouds and fly into cliffs.
We're inverted images,
never fitting into each other.
But you're in the mirror
and I'm stumbling into the void.
But you're eyes are still cerulean blue,
mine are still emerald green.
I'll never forget
the soprano of my voice
melting in the tenor of yours.
I'll never forget touch
of your fingertips
through glass doors
or concrete walls.
You'd forget that I still remember
when you told me I'm so deep.
I'm so deep, I drowned you
and you're still gasping for breath,
even after all these years,
I'd know you'll never forget
the precise lengths of my scars.

I'm wrapped in this eternity,
its suffocating grip
break my breaths
into splinters I can't fix.
I'm worn out
and my unbound edges
are starting to dissolve in this chasm.
One day, it'll become me
and I'll become it.
Then they'll know
that my depth
was never fathomable.
This unknown ocean is my home.
If they asked,
I'll tell them that 1997's
summer seemed like
streetlights casting
orange glow over deserted roads.
I'm an infinite distance
drenched between
my broken dream
and a reality so real,
it shook my being.
I'm this flash of light,
almost resonant,
almost imperishable.
Almost.
My unbound edges
have dissolved into this chasm.
If I could reach out now,
I could touch
that little diminished glow
my dream used to be.
I've fallen out of faith,
fallen out of fear,
fallen out of dread.
I'm this numb throbbing
left behind by the bitter tint
of their crude remarks
That I haven't learned to forget.
I'm a being of ashes piled high,
desperate to touch the sun
though it burned me so much,
That I've become nothing
but a screaming grey,
That they call thunderstorm.
I'm like water splashing,
through broken water pipes
with rusty veins
and faded sunsets
and dark dawns,
fissured with almost inexistent clouds.
They know now though,
I'm faded.
They still don't know,
I'm a bottomless void.

I don't need words to start a poem,
All I need is your memories.
The blink of your eyes
and the smile
tugging on your lips.
I kept dissolving
in maple sugar
that were your tears,
streaming forever.
I dove in the hollow
above your collarbones
and swam through your gold blood.
I've glided through your braids,
like winds dancing on the flowers.
But somehow, love,
I'm wandering,
lost,
On paths that don't lead to you.
Since a very long time,
I haven't seen the face of the sun.
Today's the same gray
with just a little more pitch of black.
Tonight again I can't see the stars,
again can't find the moon.
And tonight again there are no clouds.
Tonight again the sky is lifeless blue.
Because your constellations
have broken apart
and the fragments
have scattered in the space.
Every thing has vanished
in sheer silence.
I've heard nothing
but your scream.
Everything has burned
and it lies in ashes.
Though all these years
have elapsed
like flashes of happiness
and hope,
like sparks of lightning,
tearing through skies.
Behind your eyelids
are whole new worlds.
Your irises are two planets
wrapped in a deep hue
of cerulean blue.
And stars are dangling
from your eyelashes.
You're still lost.
Maybe you're hidden
in waves of oceans
or buried in dust.
I've cried and screamed
but still it's a silence too empty
to carry a whisper.
It feels like I haven't heard
anything since a thousand years.
This is our world,
within my words
and I'll bring you here again
after all the agony fades
and you're mended again.
We'll reach out for the stars again.
I'll light fireflies with stardust.
I'll burn fire with sun's flames.
I'll find all our broken pieces.
We'll take with us all our memories.
When we leave here,
I'll take you with me.
There where time
doesn't exist anymore
and we'll no longer
hang in words of my poems.
I swear, we'll be real,
soon after my words run out of pain.
We'll climb the clouds
and we'll lie in moon dust.
Ignited with silver beams
of moonlight, iridescent,
real but unreal.
Beautiful.
We'll sing again and dance.
And every night,
under the dark sky,
I'll stare into your eyes
and stare deep.
And again I'll count the stars there within.

A story leaked,
From my open wounds,
And the years escaped,
The cage of my mind,
Poetries screamed my anguish,
And songs revealed,
Too much to stand through.
With welts etched in my legs,
I trudged, stumbling,
Along the thousand avenues,
Finding your arms.
Winds flapped through,
My tattered clothes,
And stars cracked,
And dispersed and crashed.
I kept falling until,
I drowned in oceans,
of your blurred memories.
They filled my lungs
And made me choke.
They pierced my veins
And broke my bones.
I let my breaths flee,
and I fell and fell,
deeper into deepest agony.
It's the end, love,
it's the end.
This is how we end.

Through silent night,
When I look for the moon,
With sleepless eyes;
And unsure thoughts,
Will you sing me to sleep?

So tomorrow when it dawns,
I'll tell you how I fit,
Blocks of words into,
Empty silences,
That stretch into oblivion.

Tomorrow night when,
The night sky is bare,
And there are no stars left,
Tell me the story of the little girl,
Who fell down from a cloud.

And when I wake up again,
I'll show you how to bleed,
Through metaphorical sentences,
That make no sense,
So you'd know the way I heal.

When I wander at 3 AM,
Give me a fistful of dreams,
To ponder upon,
Because my eyes,
are still not heavy.

After the sun leaps into the clouds,
I'll tell you how to build a body,
With untidy stitches,
Of worn out hope and strength,
Shining in my translucent knuckles.

And when the darkness comes,
And I'm insomniac again,
Tell me how to hold your hand,
Without grasping only air,
In my empty fists.

In the morning light,
I'll teach you to form a smile,
On your stone lips and,
I'll tell you it means,
That you're happy.

And through years,
That we'd weaved,
With patched fingers,
Of clumsy stitch work,
And broken threads,

And frail skin and brittle lungs,
At last you've taught me to sleep,
(Although I still don't sleep sometimes),
And I've taught you how to be human.

So tonight when I'm looking at the moon,
I see you in the night sky,
Because tonight again I'm not sleepy,
So I'll count your eyelashes instead,
Because there are still no stars left.

I'm November nights' sleepless eyes,
And Saturday's heavy rain,
I feel broken and I can't remember why.
A deep breath, it might ease my anguish.
Across that town,
(that I set on fire),
Is something stronger than melancholy.
I try to reach it but it's too distant.
I'm an illusion you can't deem real.
I'm only mist,
Your hand will never,
Close around mine.
You cry like a boy,
When you hear I've lost my breaths,
In 1678's winter snowstorm.
The autumn of 1857,
Seems like cracking branches,
And you and me inexistent,
Trapped in something,
We can't seem to remember.
It has no name, that phobia.
I can't breathe, I can't remember,
Where I've left my lungs.
I can't feel, I don't know,
Where I've dropped my heart.
My eyes can't trace,
The shape of your face.
You're a blurred image,
I've crafted with my own hands.
Nothing makes sense.
Maybe I'm insane.
Desperate, so desperate,
To feel, to touch an entity,
That could be bigger than life.
But I'm a breathing vacuum.
The sensation in my fingers,
Is singeing me with so much life,
It's almost unbearable.
I'm running, bolting, wavering,
Stumbling, swaying, trembling.
I'm dying, dreaming, wondering,
I'm falling in love.
I'm falling over and over and over.
But I'm only falling.
I've never known what's it like,
To get up.
I'm falling into a rift valley,
With sleepy eyes.
I'm falling again.
But this time I'm falling asleep.
I might wake up.
Someday I might.