I can spend thousands of dollars and hours,
  only to look in the mirror,
    & notice everything I am not.
        - ɪ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ

When you lost your hair; you got angry.
   When you lost time; you rushed.
       When your strength left; you shut down.
           When I pushed; you pulled.
              When I talked; you yelled.
                 When I asked; you said " you don't understand"
I was a child,
       young, dumb, but honest.
           I loved you,
                I love you,
                   even if it breaks me.
                       I will love you.

You explored each crevice,
   pulled apart each door,
      burned your image across the waves,
traversed every mark & every ridge
like the roots in dry desert heat,
you drank your fill and moved on,
naked & embarrassed
     I now lay alone,
          I wish it was not so.

Every moment was a falsehood,
    "I love you" is "I hate you" masked with wanting ; its cheap makeup.
         With his life ending, his last thought was remorse.
             Remorse for time wasted, cheap words, and you.
                Oh! sad little clown! "I love you" on the marquee,
                      what a performance, cheap, comical, old.
                          

                         -A clown named 𝓐 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽

Begged on the knees with no lack of humiliation,
   cried and yells of indignity
        looking up I saw your face
                 - mortification.

please don't leave.
     please fix me.
           find the faults,
                 fix the cracks,
                   patch the crumbling walls,

I said "please fix me"
  only to hear  "you need to fix yourself"
    

-ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪᴛꜱ ᴍᴇ

I saw a strange character in the mirror tonight,
  he smiled at me, rays of sunshine that illuminated his song.
       Like a yellow cannery, impure, happy, small but strong.
          I saw a strange character in the mirror tonight,
                 I wish I could say it was . . . 𝗺𝗲

You were the most beautiful thing,
  behind a icy can of coke on a warm aired summer day.
      Love at first sight,
        until you spoke.

-ᴄᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴋᴇ

Let my words, shoot sunbeams that find you.
Let my eyes, watch you from above,
Let my worries, melt in your arms,
Let my song, whisper "I love you"
Let my image, fill your dreams.
If only, if only it was me. . .

* something short and sweet, hope you all have a good day

Silent glances,
  lead to moments of exultation,
     for you're the one I dream of. . .

When our eyes meet,
  my heart skips a beat,
    take me to a land of imagination. . .

Oh the thrills,
   for a second you're the only one I think about
         bells snap me back into reality. . .

- ʜɪɢʜ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ

“words don’t hurt.”
    They only build bridges to the most hidden isles of our being,
Bridges which illuminate our most hidden, self-hate, doubt and pain.
               & as our very being walks the hidden bridge,
                    They enrapture, take us down, into the dark abyss.
                         Pleading, begging, hurtful, angry words,
                              Pull us down, down, down, until we are submerged.
                                      Pointless words that entangle and drown you.
                                                   So, no they do not hurt,
                                                            They slowly ᴋɪʟʟ

NAN
You write about heartbreak, then comedy.
Opening up, only to close yourself in fear.
You write about happiness, then about losing and longing.
As you lie and try to convince yourself, erasing your desire.

ADP
In those early morning hours, I create my own galaxy.
A place free of fear, free of losing, free of loving.
For every moment of longing becomes a star,
tainting my perfect cosmos with memories.

NAN
You create imaginations, mechanisms of coping.
You build your walls high, they make me want to climb it.
You build your galaxy, full of gloom and curiosity,
   a mysterious code I want to decipher.

ADP
Two kids lay in the stars, dreaming.
As if dreams could erase hunger.
Two adults lay in the stars, loving.
As if love could stop time.
Two souls become one,
Until two becomes one . . forever alone.
All that is left is broken, ugly and spiteful what is there to decipher ?

NAN
I want to see . . .
   Each window past, present and now.
I want to see. . .
   The happiness that oozes from your lips.
I want to see. . .
   The dark and unrelenting sea of your depression.
I want to smell. . .
   perfumes, coffee on your breath, and your 1 am scent.
I want to feel. . .
   the pain in your heart and the pulse of its song.

I want you.

- NAN & A Dead Poet ✌

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

What
         if
            you
                   knew
                         the
                            silence
                    of
                       a
                       dial
                            tone

What
   if
    you
      starred
                 at
                     the  
                      phone
                        waiting
                                  for
                       the
                            ping
                                 that
                                     never
                                           came

Leaving you to wonder and wander
  dread, anger, anguish overtake you
     for the thrill of it all
in the solitude of the moment. . .
      

I hope "you" was not "me"

Your song enamors,
   every essence
      speech,
      taste,
      sound,
       sight.
Such a rarity,
   beauty that does not fade at any hour.

But, every dark circle beneath such ardent eyes,
fail to hide the black abyss of pain, wanting and belonging,
   for left as shells, I lost the fight,
      I am just another beautiful fool
           enamored,
               loving,
                  wanting,
                     yearning,
                       in the intricate web of lies,
                           so beautifully spun,
                             to think I am the only ❁𝓃𝑒

He was a giver,
   he gave and he gave,
      warm bodies were comfort,
          even if they cost a good cent.
They were takers,
     they took and took,
         until nothing was left,
             even if they knew it was wrong.
Both sides played the same song,
   until, he became ill,
     he begged and begged,  
        for salvation,  
           only to meet damnation,
              stormy sky's formed,
                "lift me up"
                    "𝒹❁𝓃'𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒"
                        the sky laughed mockingly,
                             he was alone.
                                 sky's cleared,
                                      he lay,
                                         naked,
                                           defeated,
                                              alone.
They wore black,
    They cried out their souls,
        Warm bodies called out his name,
            that's all he wanted,
               but it falls on deaths ears.

Little Boy,
  you care too much. . .
     you love too much. . .
        you give too much. . .

Put your dreams first!
   𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽
It's not your responsibility!
   𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒
Go, run, be free!
  𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉

You loved them so much, they became your burden.
   You cared so much, they became your illness.
      You gave them all, they became your death sentence.
-𝚢𝚘𝚞

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.

-ⓣⓐⓚⓔ ⓜⓔ

𝒞𝒶𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝒸𝒽𝑜?
𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓋𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝑒𝒸𝒽𝑜'𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝑒. . .
𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓮
   𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓫𝓮𝓭
         𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝓮

I love you body and soul,
graced by the heavens to find you,
to have us together is my nirvana.
I am too proud to admit,
you are
my breath. .
my brain. . .
the tenderness. . .
my heart . . .
please, oh please.
by gods grace keep us united,
for I yearn for your love and respect.
Hear my plea, for its not a child's plea.,
but filled with sentiment from our youth.
promise to be tender
to love, and give affection.
I am yours to do as you will,
I am yours to break at your will
so please love me.

Your soul,
𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽

Dear Love,

The day of sweet encounter is coming,
  my heart beats in excitement,
     I hear the noise of their tears like rain on midsummer eve,
         and yet sadness does not overtake me,
               I yearn for the love under a desert breeze,
                   a love that blossomed,
                        a love that shattered,
                           death took you from me,
and yet all I can ask is do you still want me?
My love, I am yours,
they cry for me, beg me to stay,
   but I welcome death,
       and his cold embrace
            for until we meet again.


𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎

Eyes that meet as we pass one another,
only our footsteps on the concrete,
silent. . . strangers. . .
Yet an ardent eruption of feelings,
A smoke filled aging bar,
two bodies sweat filled, two souls became one.
Don't ask more of me. . .
for you already know the answer. . .
our time has passed, until we meet in another life. . .
my dear old flame.

I used to hate the color brown,
   a constant reminder of marginalization
        of feeling innate. . .
            
But in brown. .
  you have red . . .
       yellow. . .
          &  blue. . .
             & every hue in-between

a gentle reminder,
     that brown is the dirt,
         that holds a field of flowers,
              so radiant, bright and colorful
                   which could not exist
                             without their foundation
                                    and with that
                                          I smile
                                                with ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ

I used to find shame,
   in the great staple food of the tamale,
      drinking poor atole,
          and presenting a plate of mole to our guest,


I used to find shame,
   being the son of two "aliens"
        how it plagued me. . .

but like Jarabe Tapatío dancers,
  I found pride,
        in our dances,
            in our culture,
               in my family.
                   for it is me,
                       I am me.
                         I am proud. . .

-ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ

Infinite ****** passion exchanged by eyes,
         unexplainable emotions at first touch,
                 Eager tender breaths muffled by lips,
                           Emotions become finite, sacred to tainted.
                                                    - The Chase Ends

Making love with the lights off,
  voices surround me once more. . .
      . . . fat. . .
           . . . round. . .
               . . . small. . .
I am yours,
  but hide me from me
     keep the lights off
       let me feel beautiful
         before these voices tear me down once more. . .

-ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴏꜰꜰ

𝓪 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓭
        his phone rings
           " on my way home"
                   what a joke , a man in my bed . . . left

Alone Goodbye's. . .  
    The irony. . .

I traveled the world,
       got three degrees,
         with a fancy title to not skip the beat,
yet I long for yesterday. . .
   not a dollar to our name,
       a 99 cent burger and a coke was our tiramisu,
        full of sweaty palms that gripped reassurance.

what a cruel game life plays. . .
  I'd give up everything to my name,
     only to be laughed, scoffed, and told
           to give up the stars. . .
                in this never ending cruel fate.

I'd give up my life to see those ardent eyes,
  only to be reminded of the coward I am
     not able to let go
         & be with you once more. . .

Forgive me lover,
as I pen this regret. . .

-ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ

Love is nostalgic,
it is an invisible voice with gentle sadness,
it does not hurt, but it burns. . .
This ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ consumes,
   every corner of your soul,
       every tear streamed,
           every word uttered,
leaving ardent ash, wanting time to come to an end.
Forever to last longer, as it paints his picture
always burning, always hearing,
the same old tune.

the irony of life,
we come from dust and bone,
     only to die from bone to dust.
in a shared cycle.

-IᖇOᑎY

I used to envy others,
    and constantly ask why?
          but each time I asked why,
             a cut opened in my soul,
                  in endless cycle that would not heal.
It became unrecognizable,
      from my own Ⓐⓑⓤⓢⓔ

Save me,
   from my world,
      longing for the drugs to "fix me"

Another day of emptiness,
  in the shadow of my own abyss,
       voices. .
              voices. .
                    voices. .

Pacing erratically,
   waiting for a hand,
        to pull me from the sea of my mental anguish.

I want to run,
    save me,
       please,

Silence,
   Alone,

Clung to you and cried,
  I begged you not to die,
      for the moon forgiving blessed us with another sun.
         I held your hand,
           I broke down,

How selfish, all the time it was me, me, me.
    Not your pain,
        not your peace,
            nor your sleep,

I am a selfish and a weak fool.
   who fears to be ａｌｏｎｅ

Sweet musky scents,
Tingle my red runny nose from the cool desert air.
   Two tattered pairs of converse high tops intertwined,
       feet on the dash of your rust bucket.
          Lana on the speakers, the smell of **** and cologne,
              so close and so far,
                 we were two lines never meant to intersect.
cruel fate,
    cruel memories,
         I will always love you, yet you can not say the same. . .

--------------------->
--------------------->

we are parallel lines, never meant to intersect,
     longing, hoping, to meet in another life.

Amongst the tattered cathedral,
weathered chipped stone facade, scared by time.
Spires reach skyward like ancient fingers around me,
On my knee's at the pew,
I pray to god,
Pray for love,
Pray for an ear,
Pray for someone to just listen. .
Take me in your tattered fingers,
Pull me from the nightmare of my mind, save me from this weakness.
Longing to drown, only to breathe.
Longing to swim, only to sink.
Longing to fall, only to fly.
dull frescoes of angels, corrupted by cobwebs judge me.
There is no sound, only the hushed reverence unspoken.
Under lofty arches, my pleas are but echoes of weakness,
longing to die, but afraid of death.

Is it love?
  No; just imagination.
magical creations; of a longing heart
and ardent passion, burning of desire; wanting.
Only to find disappointment;
Heaven on earth ceased to exist,
    for death tore the veil which shrouded my heart.
which shrouded my eyes; that made me blind.
Now that the spell is lifted, I fall to the ground,
and curse this ʟᴏɴɢɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.

Raindrops on my sea,
Let me float amongst his arms,
Deaths sweet lullaby

I'm sorry I am broken,
But I am not your modern day simile,
I don't choose to compete,
I don't choose to check off the boxes
I am broken, different, and strong.

Does that scare you?
I am not your definition of beautiful,
  I am mine, and that is okay I choose to embrace my flaws.

Take me to the stars away from my endless state of misery,
Take me away from narcotic induced happiness,
       Hold my hand pull me out of the sea of demons,
              that pulls me back in, take me away.
Pick me up in your beat up old chevy, as we ride the cosmos.
   Tell me its okay, make the voices go away.
      Hold me tight, until the shaking stops.
Take me away, from this endless song of ꜱᴏʀʀᴏᴡ.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ︎✧
┊ ┊ ✯
┊ . ˚ ˚✩

Love lost, heart in pain
Memories of you remain
Life will never be same

I look at the clock,
     waiting for you to get home.
I speak,
      only to be cut off.
You look at me and sigh. . .
     You are always right. . .
So please get your things and go. . .
     my heart pleads no, but my mind knows
there is no love, no warmth
     and that's okay,
        I'll be okay. . .

You proclaim to be better!
proclaim to have overcame,
proclaim to have conquered,
but it will spit you out, chew you, stomp on you,
all over again.
my mind is a sick mind, of which there is no escape.

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 - 🆁🅸🆂🅺

Give me your hand, give me your love.
Give me your hand, while we dance in purgatory.
An insignificant event, a moment in time.
Maybe five minutes, that is all we will be.

Qualm my steady heart in this dance together,
a simple reminder of each second that passes muffled by heartbeat,
While “our” song plays, “our” insignificant song.
Maybe three minutes long, that is all we are.

You gaze into my eyes, and I peer in your soul.
Our names become lost; they no longer matter.
For our love, song and dance are lost in time,
For that is all we were, two lovers, insignificant, lost to 🆃🅸🅼🅴

Life has made me write poems,
for others they have created poems,
I live vicariously through their moments,
each kiss, each love, each heartache.

Life has made me write secrets,
of others nightly silhouettes,
full of passion, full of grace, full of desire,
each touch, each stroke, each breath.

Life has mocked me with the moon,
with all its grace that illuminates you at night,
as you take flight oh sweet moth towards its light.

Life has scorned me,
  taken from me, broke me,
        now I write poems,
          and live 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮 through others.
             for I fear to 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓸𝔀𝓷.

Interweave my dreams in the wind,
       blind stars in my eyes,
             endless sensations on my soul,
                  enamored and enraptured in your sea
                      which beats upon my door
                           your sea which leaps into my frigid heart,
                                waves of unwanted passion,
                                     fear and pain play in the air,
                                         Emotions long lost,
                                               awakened once more,
                                                      you whisper "let me in"
                                                           my silence speaks volumes
                                                                    "free me"

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