dear you,

i’m in love.
yes. you were
waiting, i
bet, for this.
this time, though,
it is not
what you would
think. it’s me
this time, not
you, although
it’s still you,
but not in
the way it
used to be
you. it’s my
fault this time,
my doing,
my painful,
pitiful,
suffering.
it’s you in
the sense that
i cannot
control you.

this time,

it’s your mind and your thoughts
the things that slip off of your tongue
the words you put, pencil to paper
the ideas that come out in your songs

it’s your eyes and your sight
the careful observation of beauty
the need to bask in warm, pure light
the stare you give me, rarely now

it’s your movements and your touch
the hugs where you grip my shoulders
the times where i’m drunk and playing with your fingers
the warmth you give off and your gorgeous smile

none of them
are mine to
have, to take
to keep, to
love, to break

i miss you
and to go
and detach
to break what
we have, that’s
the hard way
out. but i
am trying
to help me.

i feel the
same way i
did when you
said i was
wrong about
this. about
how i feel.

i’m hoping
disposing
myself of
you, means that
the dreams will
go away
too. but if
they stay,
i’ll give you
a quick call.
probably
a text, to
be honest.

i love you,
unhealthily,
with every
part of me.

keep in touch,
please.

love,

me.

The day is done—
Clock strikes 4pm,
And it’s time to walk home, again.
It’s raining and cold.
I lock up my desk,
And head to the elevator
Ready to leave, say goodbye to this place;
Down 34 floors, exit to pavement’s freedom;
I pass the larger than life
Plato blue abstract statue,
Cardio up the hill,
Sadly, smell human waste
Coming from a small enclave
Of trees, where the homeless sleep.
I usually hold my breath and count my blessings.
I realize that any of us might easily become homeless.
I am grateful for my life and a place that keeps its warmth.
Then, I walk across the bridge,
Rush hour traffic stalled like a clogged artery.
Many cars, lights, and skyscrapers line the distance.
I like to think of the city as a heart in human body,
And the closer you get to its core, you can hear its blood flow.
Once past this point, I feel I can breathe again as the cells
Spread out more to my neighborhood, gentrified;
Pass the latest construction with a sign that displays,
“Affordable Housing for All.”
I have yet to see it.
Marijuana streams drift out windows,
There's the school overlooking to mountain's peak;
Just three more cross walks and I’ll be home, free.

There in FarBliss,
the land fed by dreams
where nothing spoofs amiss,
there are sauntering ThinkSees,
the children of ValleySeeps
who sip smiles
from TearsTheySeize.

In River ByeYou, they snare A-Sigh-For-A-Sou
and like to bathe in the sea LonelyBlue.
How they climb hazy Mount NothingTrue,
to pray the dour deity NothingButYou!

When they play,
they chase FireFlies
on the wings of ButterRhymes;
they skim the gleaming ImagePools,
under the bright moon LadyMoves,
then plunge into the lost lake LetLoose.

Their day-flight’s a FeatheryFrenzy
on a gull’s SillySyllableSpree;
to catch the lofty eagle HearMe,
they test the terrible talons TearMe.

They labor behind the FathomFalls,
spinning FrothyMusic from TumblingBoughs,
mulling melancholy in MoonlessGroves;

or, spin HeartStrings for all groans and grins,
dip them deep in dye in dongs and dings,
chirping dreams by star sipping streams,
struming the strings Nothing'sAsItSeems.

When the night comes
and you hear your HeartChimes,
let loose your rhymes
to catch your own fires...

‘cause like Time, FireFlies.

©️Hirondelle (01/12/2018)

It's a thousand tiny cuts that you receive
From the moment you're born
Waiting for someone to tell you that you are beautiful.
You yearn to stay youthful
You've learned the indisputable fact.
Your inherent value as a person
Reduced to your physical appearance
And given a numerical value online
For what is a selfie without it likes?

This is enough to make anyone cynical
Because everyone is the enemy
Like buskers on a busy street
All are competing for the attention
Of the passing indifferent crowds
All singing to be seen, to be known
Even just for one fleeting moment

It is a strange but primary emotion of the human condition
Decreed at birth to need validation
And this foundation is firmly instilled in us.
We never learn to fuss about it, as society reminds us
That there is nothing to discuss.
Sign up and accept the terms and conditions.
Show yourself to the world.
Nothing beats the sensation of adoration.
Even now, right now, I am showing myself to you.

So tell me I'm pretty, world.
Tell me I matter.
Tell me I exist.