/
I was very immature
My Sixth sense until then
Could not understand his words
Listened to all the strange things
How to tune in to that!
It would be a void in my soul
Felt a strong gravity
Ever would leave the door open
Pull away the home would have been without

Consistently in the nature of
Deep darkness,
Off and on beside a Chime river
Ever in the green meadow under a tree
What to get a!

But I remember
The smell of the ancient world,
The taste of the salt water,
Think the creation of
The epoch learned
After Rain very earthy flavor,
I would think would be the essence
Of the air *******

But what a surprise!
How do I know thee fragrance,
Didn't see thee before
Didn't imagine thee face
Only I have to paint
The dark night sky color in,
Sometimes wings to fly
Like a free bird,
Ever saw the weaver birds scatter house,
To be surprised to see the purple color inside
The Black berry

Slowly I grew older then
My Fifth sense,
The more active
My Sixth sense,
Like the branches grew
I saw the the ground to make
I put the plants saw the,
Seen Counterpoint to the creation of,
Seen be created of the soul
You have caused me
When I have seen
I understand that
You do not someone else
Thy existence
Is hidden within me-
/
@Musfiq us shaleheen

I wish you had heard the bird
Echo a hidden fairy tale
Then offer travels with an elephant to you.
Are we ready for the circus life?

I pack my bag. A girl approaches me.
"I love your jacket! "
/I hate my life./
"Thank you! Me too!"                  
I hurriedly make my way across the side walk.
" I really like your boots."    
/I really don't like being alive./
" Thanks! They were at Target!"
I glance at my tattered agenda.
" I wish I could do make up like you!"
/I wish I would get hit by a car. /
"Aww, thanks! You can always try watching YouTube makeup tutorials for help!"            
/I seriously need help./
I scribble doodles in the margins of my notes.
" I wish I could draw like you!"
/I wish I could have my life together./
" Thanks, but it's  predominantly in practicing. Draw like you, instead!"
I crumple papers with shaking hands.
" I dig your sense of style."                
/ I wish I had my sense of direction./
"Thanks, that makes me feel nice!"
I dig the dirt beneath my jagged nail.
" You always look so cute."
/ I always look for reasons to not **** myself./
"Awh, thanks! I try."
I slouch into a computer chair.
"You look tired."
/I'm tired of  my life./
" I'm actually not. I just have naturally dark circles under my eyes, is all."
I glance up at a familiar face.
"How are you?"
/I'm drowning./
"I'm ...surviving. ."

Hips calligraphic lithe alive
Serifs flare up immortal coil

Her mouth speaks to me
Between my legs
A language draped in ebony curtain
Unknown and inscrutable

Rising up
Mounting me

Her fingers splayed on my chest
enter me
Five pens
Now digging
Pecks taut
Flecks of red burst
Tattooed unspeakables writ

Her stare penetrates mine
Authoring my little demise

I am poetry
I am arbitrary
I'm whim
Of him

And his subject
Always of self
Auger of cell

I'm all tooth
I eat truth
Consumed
by that void
Which stares unblinking
Into my being

I have nowhere to be

She was delicious
Something else
I never knew how girls could taste
She's still beautiful
Those moments we shared

She refuses to admit
Our chemistry
She's straight
I am too
But I'm not ashamed
Of the confusion
In our shared past

Not ashamed to admit
A girl was
My first,
Second, and
Third kiss

Moving on, how does it work?
Do I erase you existence?
Or keep it in a box?
Do I turn love into hate?

..For  you leaving me alone.

When I cry in my sleep,
Shall I not call your name?
And replace your picture,
With an empty frame?

Do I mourn like the others?
Or just blame myself?
For not understanding,
Your frail mental health.

Do I lay some flowers?
Or a permanent shrine?
To the nearest point,
Upon the mainline,

Do I join a charity?
And fight in your name,
To prevent another,
Doing just the same,

Answers I need,
To the questions unheard,
The silent killer,
Of a flightless bird,

I always become
Nostalgic
When I'm deep into the bowels
Of nature.

At first I thought
It was Camp Wildwood
Coming back to me --

Capture the Flag --
My crush and I, Sarah,
In the woods alone
Using inside-jokes and "strategy"
As a knife
For the tension
Swelling up inside of us
a forbidden bloom that never was --

But it isn't that.

It's the genes inside of me
Ancient ones
Deep Prehistoric spindles lit
Crimson tooth claws laws
Of an order
With no defined border
Knuckles whitened ***** firing
Mounting and
Muscling out the moral