Being deaf is ecstasy,
You may think it quaint,
But I do not fight destiny.

A man who knows his place,
In the scheme of things,
Sits back to watch,

The struggles,
In fruitless tiles,
Of the quilt laid in fate.

To see and not be deceived,
By the lies of other’s words,
To judge solely on action,
And never on what you heard.

To never be afraid,
Of that ever beating roar,
The ticking Heart,

A sign of life,
That I could care less,
For.

To be deaf is agony.
I dread it every morning.
To be judges so completely.
By one little malfunction.

I walk to school alone,
And even surrounded by friends,
I am but an unknown…

To never hear the birds chirping,
Or the beautiful octaves,
Of singers from near and far.

Or to hear my sweet lovers whispers,
Deep inside my ear.

To not know the pain of a radio on high,
Or to be able to live my life, completely devoid,
Of an inaudible sigh.

But, by now you’ll probably have tuned this out,
And that’s something with which I can empathize

Because you are
         A whole universe is
         I am addicted to you
Because I am

Dream your life in watercolours,
Live your life in oils,
Frame your canvases with time and distance;

Hang each by a silver thread,
In a windowed gallery of memories,
Exhibit often and without discrimination;

Celebrate the beauty in your clumsiest brushwork,
Accept the imperfections in your mastery,
Reshape your truths, as light plays and colour transforms.

Do you pity or envy a world
That has cut off its calluses
Do you love or fear a world
So gentle against the wind
That a ***** would bleed
That a pinch would twinge

I pity and fear it,

Thus:

Here I am, hiding
In a boat of poetry
In the strait of obscurity
Between two oceans of fear

Between
The old world of joyous suffering
And
The new world of unbearable peace

Trying to marry the water of lively green
And the deadly blue

As I tie the old waves to the new
I set aflight an echo through the wind-
In the shape of a dove, a clarion call:

"Don't renounce your past
But accept it with pride,
Lest you be judged for what you have done,
And never
What you could, would, and will do!"

sugary musk scent on my wrists
he reminds me of all the beautiful scents there is
we're not even in love
but the way our hands sync together is the purest form of love
i probably should sleep
but still the songs are there
anytime I want to grab memories
of different hallways in my mind and soul
new perspectives
randomness
calculated pauses
heavenly recitings
I write it down in the most non poetic form
just to never forget the slightest memory
of you
but you deserve poetry and
for your movies to win