Little Brown Bird,
   in the clutches of your design,
      free your cage
           & ƒ𝐋𝐲

The pain begins tonight,
unimaginable torture of my own mental design,
   left under an imaginary starry sky,
    warm desert breeze, smell of rotten pine.
       my melancholy turns in your hand,
          lift me up, raise me up,
             help me become stronger.
                Let the sun, drip and fill the honey in my eye.
                   & take me out of this darkness.
                           𝓈𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒, 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅 𝓂𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒

What little hope was left,
   was gone, both the body and mind
       throne into an endless ᶜ𝔥σ𝐀Ｓ of disarray
           you said be calm,
               but where is the calm to my breaking heart,
                   where is the calm to its torturous bombs,
       each explosion a contortion of emotions, happiness, memory
                "be still my heart, please"
                       where is the calmness when I blame you,
                              when you a dream becomes a mistake
                     "be still my heart"
                           take me with him,
where is the calm, when you closed your eyes like the comet that no longer burns?
     "take me with you"
           for I am weak,
                 I am nothing,
                   I am not me,
                      without,
                             you!

My heart is a lighthouse,
   each beat a cut in the endless human sea,
      a cut, in the grandeur of the dreary sky,
          it spins, and spins,
             each Ƥùl𝓈є full of light,
               until with time it fades,
                    a reminder,
                        of longing,
                             belonging,
                                 wanting,
                                     yet fulfilled.

On a long and ugly forgotten beach,
  I curse and mock the sun, that bears witness to your lies,
I hear the waves, a figment of imagination,
     raging under my own decrepitly mental state.
Before the song of my nirvana,
    I curse the mother, and its womb,
        that brought perfection under the moon.
& within all this insanity,
    I curse you,
        loathe you,
           for in you,
              I see me,
                 foolish,
                    young,
                       in love,
                           βŘ𝐨𝓀𝓔𝐧

If I rip apart your perfect veneer,
   Disembowel its beauty,
      behind the peering darkness,
          lies a garden, with a fountain of lust
              for all you are,
                  all you will be,
                     is an imaginary object,
                          that is all you give,
                               all I get,
                                  want,
                        ­              & [̲̅N][̲̅e][̲̅e][̲̅d].

Take me back to a time,
      when La Divina blessed the stage,
          when the horrors of war did not exist,
                when man only knew love and not hate,
                     when imaginary lines did not divide us,
  when religion and race did not exist.
        take me back before the creation of constructs,


Please take me.

-ⓣⓐⓚⓔ ⓜⓔ

December 24th, 2020

Sweet love, sweet friend.
  I promised to never love again until the end,
   for I was unsure I could trust. . .
    smell of burnt pine, and ice cold December air,
      a reminder of your ever warm embrace.

Sweet love, sweet friend,
I failed to love you to the end.
for I am starting to love again,
my heart and I are in a constant fight.
for I yearn for your love,
But I found a man whose breaking my walls.

Sweet Love, Sweet Friend
  I am terrified to love again,
    I am forever yours,
      heart,
      body,
      and soul which weeps for you.
  his love which has bound me in chains.

Sweet Love, Sweet Friend,
   I feel guilty,
     I want to stop my breath,
        to feel your touch,
           your embrace,
             to hear your voice,
               & smell your skin.
                 I am terrified to love again,
                      scared I was your greatest mistake.


Sweet Love, Sweet Friend
   until we meet again. . .
      but I will try and take the - 🆁🅸🆂🅺

"why do you always cry"

maybe. .  just maybe. .
I am an emotional wreck,
  who cried on the bathroom floor,
    for love and loss and turned into a fragile core.


maybe. . just maybe. .
  earth is my purgatory,
    an endless mirage of torment and misery
      that is deserved for when I chose you,
        I left him.
          and the words I said to him,
             " I love you"
                 became . . .
𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕