i don't want to fall in love
because i'd rather say that
-
love digs its hands deep into the dirt to plant its roots,
to give false hope to the weaklings of mankind that requite is truly attainable
that love lies in the tears of our galvanised hearts, attacking the cracks of our fissured craniums
reminding us of our (now) inexorable incarceration
that love creates waveforms between fragile persons, in its attempt to orchestrate some sort of perfect dissonance
that love declares 'i am in control' (and makes us believe so)
to toy with the pieces left of our already tortured souls.
and that love only breaks us whole,
when our holes were what broke us first
-
than say love was "made" for me and you
;
because to fall in love would mean
falling
(onto your chest to remind me of what we had)
which would be a deathtrap on its own
one i would shamefully not regret

If only you knew,
If only you could understand,
The one thing that means so much to me.
Love.
I love you.
Its not traditional,
But its true.
Its love.
Love is love,
And details aren't important.
I love you.
I hope,
This is my one hope,
That you love me too.

O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

beware when you fall in love
with an artist
be it a painter, a singer, or poet

for the artist will
paint you
with strokes and hues
in shapes of every kind

sing about you
with heartbreak lyrics
and feelings which rhyme

write about you
with the simplest words
and a secret message she wants to say

beware of the artist,
and her love
one wrong move
and you're an artwork in her display

I wage war
That's never been seen before
Is sanity worth fighting for?
I'm not really sure

Insanity?
A calamity?
I call it individuality!

Who is Society
To create this hypocrisy?!?
It seems like such a tragedy
To waste such ingenuity
To dull the creativity

dawn's echo, tender or fierce,
takes grip of looser teeth. these
loser teeth, i won't eat anything
(again).
this cold, immutable. frost-
bushed lungs. you'll
figure it out before i do.

one by one, my motives
are culled,
sugar for some crueler
weather's onset. i just
wait, and in the end
lament all stillness. peace
takes time, but mine is
all wasted. as if i'd drink less,
though. you'll get sober and
i'll find another gutter.

for a moment, i
believed i'd turn out
okay. i just lost sleep
instead. dreamt of nothing.
you are what you dream.
wake up earlier every
day. turn. pass time inside
another headache.

this crestfall yields but
permanence. make it out
south. i could drown i could
drown i could drown i
could drown but my lungs
are already full of water.