Visions of death,
a love letter I wrote while dreaming about suicide-
She was in love with herself, and I loved her
to death; a slow cause to my own demise

Swimming empty pools; floating atop most of our dreams-
sinking away in that old familiar feeling of being so blue
I hear the ever-chasing sirens of the emergency factors
for all these years that go on and on and on…
I’m like an endless song; playing the tune of my heart-
till it sets away by the glum of missed hope by the dawn

I live my days to begin a new ending, for all of the regret
that comes in turns- running so far without any real direction;
to be at the destination I wasn’t expecting. Still joy surrounds
these hungry eyes; so let’s feast on more of the life we have
left to smile

As we are the children still haunted by most of our old dreams-
where the echoes of their tears become our present fears
To the people we look up to, who look to us below their feet-
they’ve underestimated how far we’re willing to believe in
those forgotten dreams. Drawing close to circles of all the things
that seem to repeat in a world that never stops spinning- yet where
we stamp our feet; are all the lessons I hope to leave behind
for my kids

I am the attire of addressing yourself in all your needs- the tradition
of struggles, and a sickening religion of pretending you’re okay for
all those not so okay to see; I am a faith mixed with a bit of doubt;
but I’d still be grateful to figure all these things out- would the
Heavens provide me a bit of help?

In the comforting embrace of conversation, I find myself
questioning my true emotions, reflecting on all the places I've
wandered beneath the stars, where the moonlight gently caresses
my dark skin. Tears flow freely on this soft mattress, so many
tears I feel myself slowly sinking. As I once dreamt with
wide-open eyes in my youth, but as the years passed,
I must have forgotten how to actually cry.

The nightmares echo louder behind these closed eyelids,
leaving me to ponder the purpose of the night amidst my
restless daydreams. I find solace in the pool of my own
tears, indifferent to the fact that many days feel surreal.
My existence hinges on the authenticity of my joy-
  a joy discovered, instead of crafted by human hands.


I adjust my words, shifting the tone of my confidence.
As in another life, I emerged from the ocean, carrying
all the tears, that you’ll never get to see. I continue to wear
this mask of tears, hiding behind a facade that desperately
seeks to mirror a version of myself that remains elusive.

In many of our dreams, we might have lost our footing.
My dear, don’t you find that the landscapes reflected
in your gaze are far more elusive?

They hide within the shadows of your smile, even as
they drift away, yearning to spill their essence.

Yet, despite the space that separates us—me like the
vast ocean and you like the luminous moon—our love
remains a presence felt but never found.

I can hear the echo of your tears,
even when you’re not around- it’s a pity that your
cries make you a fortress vast and overwhelming-
you’re a vision without sight; my words vanish
into the silence of your lips right after we kiss

All your gifts are spoken, too bad when you
speak, they never really have an ear for you.

That’s why I’m always listening, tuned into
the melody of your tears.