My love,
Tongue of vitriol,
amongst ripped pages.
Amongst unaltered belief of a winged partridge
at my back beckoning my faults.
Tears that stream, like trees with broken nerves
that never touch the ground.

This is what I see in the darkened hour,
This is what I see in the mirror,
amongst the pillars of the chapel
a figment of my imagination,
I am but a pigeon amongst a sea of doves,
incapable of words, incapable of love letters like Rilke the poet.
Only capable of vitriol at the tongue
scorning love, scorning life, scorning death
yet living it. . .how ironic.

You forgot,
and yet I wait.
In our home,
with the peach tree that blossoms in the spring,
the lantana that loves its sun,
and the rose that only grows stems.
longing to forget, longing to leave,
but stuck in the same place.
waiting for you.

What I had, is what I did not have.
Perhaps what my heart should have wanted,
each love song, a curse and blaze.
That singes and burns into my heart
I hear you, hitting me,
forging me,
into a statue forever stuck in emotional wanting.

8 Billion Souls in this world,
I continue to choose what god took away.
Longing for the day we meet again.

Across the room, you smile.
Hand in hand with your child,
her arm locked around yours, eyes bright full of gold.
"what a beautiful family" someone comments.

But I know the darkness, the hidden, the bad dream.
The tears, the echo in your soul,
that screams as you're trapped.

Their joy is built, on your pain.
Each step you take to run away, each memory that pulls you back.
The deceit, the despair, the life you built.
Your own punishment for pushing away what we both know.

Bombs are falling in the name of freedom
limbless soulless children peer into the thin veil of the heart
only to find a populous succumb to normalcy !
Plague is upon us, the planet is dying
nobody speaks for the trees,
for we must satisfy an infallible thirst to destroy.
Yet they cling to the beads,
get on their knees
pray to a deity

I humbly ask
"where is god"

                as this world turns to suffering
                poor get poorer
children starve
mothers cry
and fathers **** themselves

"where is god"

has he abandoned us?
for we have become his greatest mistake. . .

This Christmas,
   I do not ask for a lot,
      I simply wish to dream eternally,
                  so we may meet once more
just a second in time, to ask for forgiveness for who I became.

Why can't we hold one another in the street?
Why can't we kiss and hold hands?
Why do you pretend I am a friend?

Are you afraid,
   of dark eyes all around
I can't stop silent tears
  I know we have to hide
why is our love hopeless?

I want to shout
   from the rooftop
   from the street
I want to
   kiss
   hold hands
I want others to know
   I am not just a friend. . .

Is it so hard to simply be yours-

If I smiled more the first night,
If I laughed at your joke on the third birthday party we celebrated,
If I tried harder.
each night is the same,
a different memory, a different critique If . .
What could be different?
Where is the fault?
If I changed that minute detail.

Would you have stayed ꨄ

This wave of emotions,
that has invaded with savory harmony of unbreathable anxiety.
Mornings to nights, nights faded. . .
sorrows well achieved and joys badly lived.
Be still my wounded heart,
as it pulls me in.

@ 3AM
melancholy state of mind,
  wishing you were,
    yearning for this real life simile to end.
      hoping today is the day I do not compare anyone to you.
        for I love you and hate you,
           save me from this ᴊᴜxᴛᴀᴘᴏꜱɪᴛɪᴏɴ
.

I curse the mockingbird,
  that sings to mock me. . .
I curse his song,
  that brings him joy and happiness. . .
Insuperable, ugly, disgusting song. . .
  mocks me for my loneliness
I curse the mocking bird and his mate. . .
   that laugh at me as they mate
I curse the mockingbird and its happiness. . .
   for in it, I see a past long gone with no future.

I curse myself
   for in my song
        I lost you
          I am
         αℓσηє

Beautiful sunlight,
  and sunrays which ooze life,
      a tranquil reminder of another day,
          another day I wished for it all to end.
               Beautiful Moonlight,
                   whose rays you can not escape,
                      a constant reminder of my jealousy and hate.
                          another day I looked towards the stars,
                           only to outline your smile so intoxicating and bright.

So I said to the Moon, The Sun and the Stars
      " Why do you mock me?"
               then came the reply through the rain,
                   each drop , never alone
                        a mocking reminder
                            I am αʅσɳҽ. . .

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

We are a flame,
   with age we grow,
        brighter,
           stronger,
             more ardent than the stars above,
                with age we die
                    to illuminate the next life.

8th of August 2012

My dear sweet friend,
my heart should be raging unrelenting, but its full of tepid waves.
   I feel listless as in endless sleep in my mothers womb,
      and yet I ask why?
          self-sacrifice met with betrayal.
a heart so broken,
the very essence of my soul weeps.
    I lay, ever so wide-awake, the silent darkness,
        a reminder, I am alone.

So why my sweet friend,
     do I not curse them,
        wish ill will,
               bad health,
                  or even death?

for when did I become weak. . .

▌│█║▌║▌║ ฬεά𝐤 ║▌║▌║█│▌

Let me lie under the smell of herbs,
       flowers, and rotting sap from ancient trees.
          prepare the earthly sheets,
             with pollen that tickles the nose
               an infinite reminder of my insanity.

Let me sleep,
  under the constellation of the lion,
      majestic vast grandeur,
          an infinite reminder of a strong soul,
               forever lost and broken.

Rock me to sleep,
  with the song of buds breaking open,
    and angels that sing the song of purgatory,
       an infinite reminder,
           of  man , a sinner, a son, a product of humanity.

In the end,
  when the pills run out,
      and the world returns to normalcy,
         with one less miserable soul,
             take a note,
                 that I am happy,
                         free ⓞη𝓬𝐞 ᵐ๏Ř乇

Green,
  mesmerizing deep green,
    waves of endless emotion,
      freckles,
         sweet marks of perfection.
"hi"
   one word
     tainted
          yellow
             impure
                love
                  at 5.

-ιɱρυɾҽ

There is no shame in saying " I love you"
   Only heartbroken mornings,
              when there is no reply. . .

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!

Heed my call,
  within the state of unutterable purgatory
     weight of damnation,
           demonic sins dance by ardent flame
                  in synchrony on a brittle back. . .

Alone,
   echo's reverberate
       from the night sky,
          tears stream the very essence of the soul itself
              longing for intoxicating paradise so out of reach

Take my hand,
   pull me out
     of the raging mental sea,
       cleanse and purify a damaged soul,
          hear me, see me, choose me
              please . . .
                     please . . .
                        save me from the world living in apathy,
                          let me find elation. . .



-ΣᄂΛƬIӨП

"𝐻𝑒𝓁𝓅 𝓂𝑒"
    Mellifluous thunder in the air,
         just another devout fool looking for serendipity,
              raise my languor arms,
                   for I fear solitude,
                        so play the secret chord,
                               ring the bells,
                                  send a dove,
                                     take this sanguine fool.

Help me,
  I fear being left alone.
        -ℓσя∂

Smallness is not decided by others,
   it is not preordained fate,
    under the endless bastion of the fathers heaven,
         it is what YOU see in yourself,
              what YOU say about yourself,
                    what YOU think is acceptable
                        what YOU allow of others
                               It is 𝓎Ｏυ. . .

I learned to hate. . .
  When he came in during the night,
      his hands caressed untainted skin,

I learned to hate myself. . .
   When I ponder and recall that I never screamed,
      not even a sound,
          was it love?
              was it fear?

I learned to shut the world out. . .
    When I looked at men and knew I was different,
           when I was told I was wrong,
                to my very existence.
                    
I learned to love. . .
   When I saw your smile,
            longed for your touch,
                when our two eyes met. . .

I learned to live. . .
  when two heartbeats turned to one,
      when my world crashed down,
            when my pillar fell,
                  when I screamed at the top of my lungs
                        only to find myself alone.

- Learned

December 30th, 2012

So pure and young, sweet love.
              I'm trapped in your song,
                    I wonder what you'd say,
                                I am completing your dream,
                                               Dr., Dr., Dr., that is all you'd say.
Sweet love,
  you are the silence in my eyes,
       the reason I cry at night, the reason I try so hard to live.
           yet, like raindrops in the summer heat,
               each moment passes like a blur,
                    a reminder that I could have done more,
                       so my sweet love I ask,
                             "are you ashamed of me"
                                 " are you ashamed of what I become"
                                       & in the unknowing,
                                           I know and weep
                                                for I fear your response,
                                                       when we meet.
                                                               ѕωєєт ℓσνє

Perfect overhanging telephone cable shoes,
mocking under a desert breeze,
   torn ***** chucks that leave their mark,
           on a dark tapestry full of imagination.

Counting pennies in a stream,
children hypnotized by lovely tunes,
   desperately trying to buy scribblers for they come in two,
      two beautiful pops of multiple hues,
          dancing in synchrony,
                only to be ripped part,
                   under the desert breeze.

you were my scribbler. . .
  such a sweet memory,
     of two souls in a romantic setting,
           if only I had known,
                 I would say goodbye. . .

-ѕ¢яιввℓєя

Elegant,
     polished,
              refined,
                  a mother used to say
                                   "be like marble"

but like marble I am porous,
  so easily cracked,
      broken,
        chipped
            scratched.
              each injury a reminder of  my weakness.


Like Marble,
  age becomes endemic of problem unspoken,
      I am replaced,
           for I am weak,
              broken and cracked.

"Mother I am like marble"

-мαявℓє

An endless metronymic rhythm of madness,
  time does not stop.
     Each wave crashes,
        Each wave pushes me down,
            gasping for air, gasping for life,
                  "hold on" . . .
                        caught in your endless sea
                            drowning, giving into the pressure.
                                   your pressure

knowing all to well,
         I am not the only one. . .
               giving myself to someone who is not good for me no more.

- Wave

skin does not define us. . .
  yet I was born two shades darker,
    the world decided,
       that credit is lopsided,
          that crime is not misguided
             & that inclusion is adequality provided
                therefore, exclusion is justified.

skin defines us,
  keeps us divided
     shows "true" colors
         I should be angry?
            but I feel ashamed.
               not of color,
                 but of the human ЯΛᄃΣ

Every second I wished you dead,
after you touched me,
each stroke
reducing me
. . . human. . .
. . . animal. .  .
. . . worthless . . .

you died,
at the funeral,
  I did not cry,
but I did not want you to rot,
I did not want you to burn,
I did not want to shout from the pew,
I was worthless,
at that time I was five,
but now I am fine,
I guess this feeling
is forgiveness not for you
but for me.


↫↫↫↫↫ ＦㄖяⓖⓘＶє𝐧ᵉŜＳ ↬↬↬↬↬

It takes two pillars
  to build a foundation.
    as one rots and decays,
     the other cracks, bends, creaks and cries.
Then we have one. . .
  longing for support,
     only to find the world avoids the "broken" foundations.

-
b̵̪͈̙͚̪̞̗̱̅͒͘r̴̡̝̻̫͙̺̮̟̾͊̅̋̅̄͘̚͜͝ͅọ̴̲̓̈́̃̎̓ǩ̴̫̟͕̲͔̂̽̏͛͜͜͝e̵̋̎̔͠­̮̼͐͜ǹ̶̤̖̲̭̘̿́ ̴̨͖͇͍̦̯̤̐̅͋͘͘͜f̵̜̜͕͔̫̹̫̹̎̾̅͌͊̕͝ͅò̶̲̻̣̑͋͗̃͒̒̍̄ủ̵̮̪͍̼̳͔̗͉́̃̓n̶̦͘͜­̮̦̝̻̱͜d̶̫̲͒͌ā̴̡̛̭̭͘t̴̡̳̪̯̖̣͗̿͛̄̍̌͝ͅi̶̲͑̅ơ̶̮͇̼̹͜n̴̢̢̤̭̜̹̙̹͓̆̔ŝ̵­̢̛̙͙̗͗́̽͗̕̚

Coffee at 5 o' clock,
   just another reminder I ****** up.
      two souls united ,
          beautifully in perfect  harmony.
              now they pull apart,
                    the sound of a closing door,
                      and another piece of my heart.
                          Longing for more, Ꝉօղցìղց ƒօɾ Ӏօѵҽ

When your heart turns blue,
  remember our moment under the ugly tree,
    turn tears into smiles,
       when your heart is weary of misery ,
            turn to me. . .
                let me hold hold those feelings of melancholy.

-Ⓣ𝓊尺ᑎ 𝕋𝑜 м𝒆