Because my fingers are too
alien, just like how toenails on tulips
facing the clear, bright blue sky.

It is too easy to smile.

Because my fingers are now
a stranger's, just like the dead cells from my cheeks
I left on the road.

I only need more, more, more lamps and
clocks. Tick, tick. Tick.
I want to tick too.
Like a bomb.

Sometimes hair grows like sunflowers
just like how the brain
becomes soil.
You can find a worm or two,
thank them they make it fertile.

I am sleeping with my eyes open,
I'll let them dry. Let them dry
and make them your bookmark.

Just leave me
at your favorite part
so you can have a reason
to not come back.

this is not my ancient dream
i don't wanna be ok, momma
stray me in space, scatter me like stars
forget me
write me in an astronomy book
forget me
call me by a number
and it's never one, or two, or three

the only way i smell is like curry roux
it's past midnight and i want to go
home
it's never a place i can reach
not by foot, not by plane
i've run out of things to say
so i'll do it so i can speak louder

forget me
define me by homesickness
i fit in a box named silence
sometimes i think i'm a rabbit
white fur, red eyes
sometimes active, sometimes dead
either time the life isn't mine

it's easy to reach out for help
and there are open hands
hanging from the sky
powerless, full of themselves
not much space for me, never

i count them by color, they are all red

Ring ring the cat rings-
Like spider on the bathroom wall
He rings two times a day
Like a rain, like a tan
Like hidden bikini bridge
Legs like mermaid's, hair silver, eyes like shells
Swinging mood, jazzy tummy and warm wounds
Sleepy cups of coffee, sad iced tea and lemons
Where the heart is; a home
My chest is a home, a home I cannot live in
Cold air at night; cloudy night, shy stars
Sneezing God bless you, nails grow long like face
Haunted light, lonely melodica misses wind
Laying on the road, broken traffic light
Ribs trapping
Butterflies crying
Withering cream hibiscus, they want red, red like tongue
Awkward knocks do not feel like home
I wish of more cliches than empty
I wish of more fire, I wish of more stars--
Oh was that really the same sky, the same moon and sun as before?

or is it just that
the wall and the head
really do love each other

out of breath
the organs are
dislocated
nose so flat everything's
restricted
chlorophylls cheer, are proud
of my lungs, these poor
balloons
careful not to bump into
my ribs, unseen
because of
fat

I see Isadora and her scarf
and begin to think about the tire.
Or an ice cream made out of the stars,
though it would taste more like fire.

Was it fire or was it gas, when
a dance was the wildest?
Do not let them tame you, Budd. But you
have nothing to do with anything here,
so go **** your warning, Budd.
No one ever really heard you.
They only saw the erratic dance, spread
like wildfire, it burned their eyes but did not make ashes.
Even a candle could not be lit, the government just
did not want anything to be melted.

I see Christine and a box of silver!
My heart reeks of reptile or a motorcycle
or it is just an excitement of a .38 you know what and the vocabulary
isn't wide enough to rhyme sleepily but
let's see this together, Budd.
They put you under the label hero.

If I were them, I would not.

[Calm down, Sylvia. Yes, yes, your Dame Kindness
is so nice!]

I see Vincent and Ryan.

[Calm down, Sylvia. You were a deer, a peacock, a thorny tulip,
yellow thing with white skin.]

They are hungry, one was dead, another is still alive
with a smile ear to ear, disgusting as it does sound.

[ ]

I close my eyes and I see a sun and hear mountains,
river flows and swimming lungs,
the unconsciousness glows
like a midnight hunger.
But it was not the clock that ticked, it was all
in my head.

[Calm down, Sylvia. You are
now too pure already.]

running away from reality sounds nice
i have the doors but not the rooms
it all begins in one sentence
i could have just laughed it off
my, my, my dear funny thing
whom are you kidding?
it's just as ****** up as it is
heart, heart, heart, keep it beating

It's a thrown It's a thrown
What's just a phase What's just a phase
---
Unlike an airplane she flew so close to the ground
Noises you heard was a fly buzz when you died
Grinning Grinning granny
Greet it Greet it great
A fireball called sun When is my dear Earth's turn
---
Sentimental flower
Sediment on your flanel
Doll Doll Doll Who's there
Jesus come again will ya Will ya
---
Eternal blackout Eternal blackout
Et

You
forgot to take your mother's kitten out of the oven.
She smiles on a trance
like Avalokiteśvara in a lotus
reeks of God, a melting honeycomb.
Bake me some pottery, would
you? But the clay
has grown so much its pants no,
no longer fit.

The dove faked a laugh
and Noah would clap.
Clap and clap and clap.
He told Emzara to leave him
and only him and only him
and only him
alone, for Chronos had put a chaos
on Themselves, and, and
Delilah would cry in joy when the pillars collapsed
along with her soul, along with her soul.

But you chose to pray to another
whom is not the arrow nor a lampshade on a hotel room,
whom is not a sun nor a xylophone nor the title of your favorite song nor the bricks you'd
tied on your
waist.

The stars' greetings unanswered, unanswered, unanswered.
O, dear, o my dear sky whom is polluted!
Cataract on the moon, moon that hollows air as, as I lose the setting sun that is
you.

The air around me
changed; I breathe new air; I have
a brand new sweet lungs!

coffee and words and sylvia.

they are all dead,
i buried them
with my corpse.

in a same hole.

with a same nameless headstone,
but only my skull
would remain.
and someday someone would find
the teeth i left and think;
"she wanted storms."

actually i am one.
with the eye named sylvia,
but coffee makes her blind,
like a love.

"love is a verb,"
you said.

keep coughing up
butterflies;
i only have
dead ones.

resurrection out of date.

funny ideas.
betrayed reality.
i made you up inside my head.

She doesn't really want storms
It's just that she breathes dreams of storms
and what comes to her eyes,
those silly rainbows and
dead waterlilies and half-dried rivers,
makes she feel like a fat mad white rabbit
who is dancing and stamping
on you. She always knew it was you -----

Varieties of rain-clouds
Spreading like sudor glands on
her mosquito-bites covered skin
And the pores will not stop yawning
and drooling Anna Akhmatova's line
Dripping down her throat, her temples and legs; You will hear thunder and
remember me, and
think: she wanted storms.

She doesn't really want storms
It's just that she likes thunder and thinks it
as another form of sound waves her ears
used to eat a lot on Friday
and Saturday
nights.

Now it becomes faeces.
Your voice.

v.

what i feel about you is
not divine; no more
than heat, sparks, or
skin to skin contact.

what i feel about you is
pink, is flesh, is the blood rush --
just
some girl stuffs.

one breath is too loud
decades spent with ears covered
blocking all the noise

i am crawling to the third floor and there it is, your room
i wanted to be pure, i wanted innocent
i am melting beneath your palms like a bar of white chocolate
you know right, white looks good on you

i'm dreaming of your lips except when i'm with you
it's your eyes:
an abyss, but wholesome
i can only hold your hand and i already know how soft you are

are you gonna touch me like i am precious?
one brush and i already am so powerful
i don't want to tell you this, but
if only we dared, there'd be nothing i can't do

v.

the teenage girl
overcoming fears
rising
head first
nonexistent rock bottom
mistakenly thought as sky ---
for her
only gravity
is suitable

The time is too
precious.
Just give it to any else-

this losing is not
on purpose.

xviii.       i   grow like a pimple

only that i       stay

permanent stain, perhaps


concealer

Moss-covered voice I've
forgotten long time ago.
I am not my ears.

Milady, Lady Lazarus, I can't save you.
You save me.

vii.

I was 10 when I thought
seven years from then I would marry
a super blinding-kind-of-rich 82
year old
dying
man.
It was a normal thought.
He would be sitting
on a park bench.
It would be
a calm afternoon.
I would sit
beside him and we would
share a heaven-like
smile. We
would talk
about warmth
and love
and life
and death
and hope and I
would remind him
of the sweet old days
when his deceased wife
was still
together
with him.
He would love me
like crazy but I
would never
do. I would just
pretend and
gain his family's
trust and wait
for him
to die.
I would be filthy rich
at such a young
age.
And, once again, it was a normal thought.
I swear it was a normal thought.

What's funny
is
today is the
day
said and I
can't
even
talk
to
people.

Sylvia save me
I don't really want to be
Ah! How you know me

Sylvia save me
Attraction of disaster
Natural insane

Sylvia save me
I'm starting to believe I
Won't suit for poetry

You are the sweet taste of the meaningless
Sweet as a rose, you have thorns sting as a bee

You are the darkness desired by all bats
Next day you wake up crying a farewell
Kiss your bye to that bright light you once had on your well

Don't you worry
She still fakes ******* 'til the bleedings fade

Don't you worry
Tonight on her dream you two kissed
Not for real, at least nor last

She still misses you like you did
And I am sorry
I am sorry

I am sorry

The heart splattered -- split in two is better
It's no longer of menstrual moods
It's no longer of cyclical downfall
It becomes a fate, an already finished piece
The said hidden new beginning
The said some who can't make it to the sequel

The back aches where wings used to be
It's another world issues
Political pain and illnesses
One doesn't remember any
The first cry carefully saved
Woman, behold, your son!

Look, here is your mother
Softened hands and tell you'll never let go
Look, here is your mother
The eyes you blend with ours
The body I dried to keep yours moisty enough ---
Just how much love can your heart take?

THE LETTERS ARE MY BREATH I CANNOT CATCH, I WAS KILLED IN MY HOMETOWN AND IT MIGHT BE ANOTHER TOWN OF CATS I RAN AWAY FROM. I HATE TRAINS. I HATE WHAT I CANNOT TOUCH. FLICKERING. FLICKERING AND SCATTERED. WE ARE ALL SACRED IN THE NAME OF EARTH. BUT EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT. EVERYTHING IS SCATTERING AND FLICKERED. UNLESS YOU.
YOU SHOOK ME LIKE NO ONE ELSE.
YOU SHOOK ME LIKE NO ONE ELSE IT'S ALMOST LIKE A LULLABY. ARE YOU MY FATHER? ARE YOU MY FATHER BECAUSE YOU WERE BORN LONG BEFORE I EXIST? ARE YOU MY FATHER BECAUSE EVEN YOU ARE YOUR OWN FATHER? TAKE CARE OF ME. PLEASE. TAKE CARE OF ME AND TALK TO ME AS IF YOUR TONGUE IS A BOWL OF MILK.

(Legs and legs and legs)
      I carry my thighs like I am the capital city of the family
      Once in a while I stumble, I can't break just so no one collapses
(Legs and legs and legs)
      I wear my knees like I've never prayed before
      Awkward yet soft, I stand in an athlete's manner
(Legs and legs and legs)
      Calves cold as marble pillars, my body is a church
      Sinners climbing my legs, I guide them into the light
(Legs and legs and legs)
      Just which feet was I given?
      Just which door did I open?

I didn't mean to chill the tea
But heat always flows spontaneously from hotter to colder bodies, and
never the reverse

Sorry I copied that
from Wikipedia

I never liked chilled tea
let alone the iced
one. Then
at two I remember you.
The cafe's
bankrupted.

Naturally, three wishes would always be
divided by zero
Genie was meant to be
a hero. Genie was meant to be
a hero. Genie was meant t---

Back then on March
Four fears
I thought I would see you
(I didn't cry at the parking lot)
From five to six p.m.
seven people had waited
for me to stop the weep
(It was the second box from the left
on a women's bathroom, if you want to know)

I am burning all the books
along with the old letters
along with your new lover

*And the language obscene

Your fancy poetry
does not touch me.

Before i know it i got scared of the dark
which is a bit shameful, for all my life
i've been hanging at the sky
bathing the path of lost souls with my light

My mother said i was the moon
My father said moonface was only a side effect
but my face stays true to its moon nature
although now it has lost its sun

Before i know it i came back to the past
where the only taste i know is of medicine
and i keep stumbling in hospital halls
trying to silence my own feet

Is it even possible to time travel backwards
to a time that has never happened?
I keep remembering the things i've never known
I keep hiding the secrets i've never had

Because you'd stayed for a while
Because you'd made my head your favorite place
A library, or a cave, you'd said

The idea of you had completed me
But there's no such thing as a complete library so
I am no longer your favorite

And a cave, I made my head a cave
For you to live in but
You aren't a caveman

can i be a bird, mimicking the wind?
can i forget my lungs, can i leave the heart beating?
can i have the wings, flying through
the pain of all worlds?

at night am i a blinking eye
curling on death's palm, trying to sleep?

can i be a bird, lost in a city?
can i make a home, can i give a try?
can i have the wings, flying to the moon
where all children belong?

at night am i a boy privilege
crushing my soul, confused at the silence?

can i pray to god, can i do something?
can i believe in love, can i breathe your words?
can i be a star, can i be a cross?

carry me, i'm tearing up
for the grief, for the loss

carry me, i'll bring you
to where we were
before

This sad scent on my fingers reminds me of the two kids I saw on the bridge. They were supposed to be selling peanuts and crackers, but they were playing with it instead. It reminded me of the photograph of a child ******* with a shabby barbie left on the ground. How cruel the world is. How come the government let this to happen? This must be stopped from happening. We must rise. Revolt. Unite. Yeah. Rise. Revolt. Unite.

"If there is not justice for the people, let there be no peace for the government." ~Emiliano Zapata

Lol no just kidding. Who cares about it. This sad scent on my fingers just reminds me of

you.

hey, aren't you well?
staying ill in this weather
won't take you anywhere,
bruising heart into cracked walls
and damp groin
i see your hair is falling out again
collecting grease
shedding scalp
i said i loved you, i did.
what are we anymore, we used to
collect each tear drops
call them different names
i forgot what your face looked like
when i see you
        how can i be sorry,
how can i

there are beautiful things in this world
one of them was being with you,
painting the blanket of the earth
mint green, lavender, sky blue
-- aching red burst
and now i can't see   any of it
we were vast, transcending galaxies
like something immense was on the way
but it got caught and dried and hung
like a head with horns
like a head    with fangs
like a head, trophy that says, defeat

if i were to find you
would you let me hold you
carry you
tend you
would you like to take the time
to heal?
in my chest. in my arms. would
you let me build for you  a mending place?
or would you tell me off
tell me: pretend
not to hear your screech
not to get your hurt
would you ask me to look past it
like you did
before

what am i going to do with you?
i can't love you if you aren't here
i can't find you if you disappear

what am i going to do without you?

Slice the apple
Billion apples
And billion others

They are getting brown
Why don't you eat it?

You are busy
Slicing
Carving red-brownish swans

Stop it
Snow White does not exist
Apples are not needed

The nonexistent seven dwarfs
A dream of a black Cadillac
An eternal long march
Inaudible Amazing Grace

Two billion apple swans
Turning brown and more brown
They frown

At you
Why don't you eat it?

Your blinks were the morning way i say hello
to the trees, nailed and pretentiously painted yellow,
slightly being a song about going home
slightly being mild wrinkles in your hand
holding a thing called a lung
warm and black, full of cancer
in july
of school holidays and false anxiety

muting an eye by an eye,
you only have two, oh, me too.
And another song in september
where i put my ears in a bank
near the tiny window smells like plastic
in my drink,
melting like meisjes in the fingers
of whatever meaning she had or hadn't grown up
in a ***
belonged to mary jane

a best friend of many
in a windy country full of
strangers'
hearts and appropriations
dancing like smokes
around the neck of a
heaty dragon,
dreamy sore throat and psychologist's smile.

hi, an illusion, a nightmare
shrunken ribs, heart a limp rebel
lungs the stagnant parents

moths in the gut, immortal
womb the failed garden
humiliation in étalage

******* the sacristy daughters
true worshipers of tedious
traditional values

hi, temple of the holy spirit
gaze into the weary stones
of the five senses, multiplied

ears buzzing bees, eyes the hive
nose a haunted house
dorsum a wildfire

kindling wood, spreading
villagers of freethinking
mind the silver shoes

wherever but
head, the great and powerful
wizard of oz

I will not bleed but internally
A song that seeps into me
Celebration of misery, I will not leave
Day by day, like wild grasses, like a downpour
Wind-woven, my rooted free spirit, my primal
Lover, I owe you a favor
A cleft in our head instead of our chest
I'll forgive, let you mend, just
Stay close to me and I'll stay
I'll stay close, I'll stay

i run
lose my legs
i run
what is pain? she runs
loses her legs
i tell you mother
a story and a marathon race
i tell you mother
a garden and a chest
i tell you, i tell you
as you appear in nightmares
as you
as you

and i do not exist anymore
and i run and i lose my legs
so i tell you mother
from the beginning to the end
i tell you
i tell you

i tell you

i keep desperately wanting to be the person i am not. it's true.

i only want to be enough.

I've stopped being beautiful quite a long time ago. Mirrors and selfies do not tell the truth; I actually like what I see. Little did I know the ugliness reeks from the blind spots and I shamelessly think it's the world who's at fault.

Forgive me, daughter, for I have sinned.

All I want to hear is an apology. I lift my chin and walk past the mother, idle as a bystander. I am a child bird, my beak is tired from breaking the shell. I wish I didn't have these wings. The nest is uncomfortable, I just want to touch the ground.

I have two feet. One thigh.

Ocean is my ancient dream. But all I got to taste was cold aloe vera. Hint of sweetness, eternal like a dentist's craft. I can't feel pain, so it must be joy, but why am I crying?

We got tired of the cries, the tears, the traces. It's boring, just like an authoritarian news. I don't think there's more to it. What you see is what you get.

I hide everything I can. I mask what I can't. That way, I'm never left with nothing. I hope so. I am so hopeful. I must be cured.

I fill my water bottle with starlight, but when it touches my mouth it takes away the wetness. My lips crack and I can no longer talk. I nod at the earth, and she empathizes.

A thing I can never do. My fingers still long for the colorful helium balloons. How many of it to make me float? I want to explode right on my peak. Cry for me, strangers. I want to hurt you in ways I've never imagined before.

living with a mind this
gladly doing the ***** i do not aspire to
very slow clap because my hands are full
& the thrill is gone
spending days friendless, loveless
in loneliness
nothing lies within
no pleasure coming
wearing mask, cannot take it off
easy task, only fake sweetness
wrenches me bad, even god
must get the blues

Cold hands are yours
Nurture a dying thing called body

I'm not a wave, I'm not the sky, I do not change, I stay, I do not go, I do not run, I do not walk, I do not move.
I am the work of your palm, your girl, a clay, heavy yet easy, one time I am burnt but end up having soul.
Just like Pinocchio my nose grows longer everytime I lie, so when I try I give up, when I remove my nose my tongue gets off too.
Just like Pinocchio I want to be a good child, to make you proud. Just like Pinocchio I have no brain, no any trace of your H. sapiens DNA, you did not give me that well.
Only these fingers are right, only these fingers are going to reveal the truth I've failed to chase.
These fingers have blood, bones and skin. These fingers have their own brains to work for me when mine is gone.

I am your tombstone, you don't want to admit you are a narcissist, I admit it instead.
Right in front of you is the lake, it is really me, you do not reflect, I drown in me instead.
The tale is near the end, it's all political act, when I shut down I do not, when I sleep I do not, I die, I die, I did not live, have never done.

For Sylvia Plath.*

The April gushes were all over my face
For a moment, to come back
Anytime they like;
Next month, or next blink

In my subtropical 1811
Seasons do not really matter
Though I have a calendar
Curled up in my insides

It has all the dates
Of the infamous April
Since decades ago
Your February 11

Is permanently a holy day ---
I am sorry I have never been
So religious before
But I believe in you

I believe in you like birds in their wings --
I keep my faith as wet
As the wet towels, until now still soaked
In tears for your dear head ---

O blonde thing!
When I first met you
I didn't understand
Why people built shrines and statues

Why people prayed to you
Why your name erased their fears
Why they cried when they heard your voice ---
O funny duchess!

When I first met you
I thought you had
Really hoped to be horizontal
I didn't know that you were, you are

The horizon ---
I went to the sea and all I could see was you
And I can't stop thinking that you are
The blood this heart is pumping --

O tiny mother!
My horizontal lady!
You died before I had time ---
How I wish I could kiss you

A Judas kiss!
O sweet Lazarus!
My lioness!
The gas has ran out

The ovens are turned off
You are no longer a kitchen girl
My minerals, motherly love!
You can lie back now ----

She used to dream a lot
She really loved it
Until one day
A dream came true

Clock ticks
Ink fades

Head heats
(Burning coals pillow)

I wish I could
make you up inside my head

You vanish
(I can't leave this cave)

i waited & waited
until i
can feel my teeth
again

my teeth against
fried salmon skin
my teeth in emphasis:
fish oil, omega-3 fatty acid

my teeth babysit
tongue, throat, body:
conjoined triplet & i
waited & waited

until i
can
feel my stomach

again:
it isn't cold
warm even

Today I look at you
& I know it was real
You were there
Now here, unchanged

& my heart is relieved
That you wear the same name
I used to keep safe in my mouth
The same hands
You used to collect my strands of fallen hair

Still
I dare not to touch you
Even for just one more time

No
Not today

Today I look at you
With eyes as innocent
As a curious child
& hold myself back
Like a dog beaten a hundred times

& I remember
& I know it was real

if your body is a home
who would make it a hotel room
look at you and think:
cheap enough. pretty clean
sleep on you and think:
tomorrow i'm leaving
if your body is a home
who would make it a playground
come to you to play,
get tired and think:
fun enough, but it's getting dark
i gotta go
if your body is a home
once lively, with a garden of blooming flowers and home-cooked meals
who would make it a haunted house
who would cut the power at night
who would make it a ****** scene
if your body is a home
who would make it impossible to live in

your eyes keep reminding me of--what?!
and you blink and you do not sleep often
you wear bright yellow jacket because they say poet only wears black

and your head starts to burst
starts from your eyes, your eyes keep reminding me of--what?!
and you see, it's you and i--in a bright yellow jacket