I measure the distance–
Us
Speed over time
A number close to my mouth
At the very least, to my presence
As a dim light phased across the rain-painted window,
I observe
As every spectrum hit
The teardrop on the tissue
Even each second for white noise
tabulated carefully
for this experiment
To rationalize my theory
Miles per second

A single heartbeat,
Cold and Collective
Estimated each decibel,
A sonar to the depths of my body
Hollowed by this

Enough.
My mind now numb in the witching hour
Curling my body towards sleep;
A heart left awake;

Now, holding what I knew was close
A frame to contain
These painted smiles
of now fastened teeth
Hanging dead
A breath
Shrill,
Still,
Time is Space.

Here I am, again
Checking my watch and looking at
The ocean, across my windowsill
Our Home –
Is still a house

The way the wind blows towards my direction
It passes my body
I can feel
You, In each breeze
Cold to my fingers
But warm in my heart
A kiss in the sunset
Is my walk towards you
The shore is waving towards your island
In my own strength
And I still catch
Your flying kisses
Unfolding like butterflies
Spring of June Morning shine
Year after year
But I don't cry
Because we've been separated by distance
Even for a matter of years.
Why?
Because for as long as we share the same sky
And breathe the same air
We're still together.
In the arms of the wind

Amongst the crowd, I blaze it across and up
Down the middle, a mechanically knit hug
With its broken handle
And popping arm crossstiches
To fasten the shame
To hide the tears inside me
That have not evaporated

In my jacket, I am me
3XL and slowly dying
Of a death that no one knows
Or a change that could end the world's colds
No one knows because no one knows care

Eitherway, the fantasy *****
So for reality, I conform
And learn to hide
My curves that have been
Rolled against the mud I never wanted
Shot into the toilet that the water dwelled in stench
Bruised in the way of another but never for a child. Brutal for a teenager

Because love was tailor made
For someone else
Time was made to order
For the busy and no time for me
Because friends beat you up
For being a giant that doesnt fight back

Locked secrets
A past and a pension
Within my body
That I am willing
I am so wishing
To be a shadow
In my black jacket
A face not from the many
But being trampled on the floor
Yet phasing through
Like the timeless, like a ghost
Seldom gone but never present

To be different is to be alone.
We live in the folds of
Closed doors against open windows

We then can hear the treble of
A voice against each other
United in loneliness
Divided in an instant click, a shut off with headphones

But I dont hesitate. I stand
Even sometimes sit up
Think and smile for every word
I start to
Say
Speak
Whispering with a force
Like a needle ***** to the forehead which is the focus on us all
My mind cries then the tears flow
Into the heart
I then help tear down walls
They have built
Against the colors, noise and difference
Of the world. With an effort of words.

I open my eyes
They have left again
Perharps, to be alone is to be different.

A muse meant
Loving You
From a distance
Like candied sugar
To a toddler's honeysuckle

And possessing eyes that only play
Within the fulcrum
Of your figure
Galaxies beyond my heart
Could only seek
You, My Everything at the moment

Naively, I pour out my words
Clearly, I’ve never been in love before

This Christmas is cold.
Even as the moon is scalding
To the heat of the stars
In the humid air
Of the hidden sun.
My heart reaches out to closest flames
But they are in full-fledged fuel
For their own
Feisty foolish fellowships
Furiously festive in the ignorant bliss
Such is the permafrost
Of no welcoming arms

And so, I host Revenge
Who welcomed Bitterness
In my thoughts
While suffering from the sinister snowstorm
I alone perhaps have made this night cold
Cold enough
To trick me to sleep
In tears, only my dreams are warm enough
To thaw but a single thumb

Frozen and Alone
I fade. Evaporating into the clouds
I am part of what will be
Rain, wadding the earth
In a pool
I will remind them of loneliness
I
Will be the cold

Next Christmas is cold

Love like a heart. Yes, the *****. It has equal distribution of blood, we can also call it “love”, around the body. It filters the love then reuses it; making sure it’s fresh and ready for another round and round. It doesn't discriminate in that sense. It is kept safe within a cage yet free to move around the body. The chambers keep the "love" and preserve it. Its chambers are with purpose. Love in its purest form has a purpose and preserves quality in a way.

Its tunnels are plenty in little things and large places. From carpals to kidneys. It has set its boundaries but is open to love others by moving around freely in a body ready to explore the world and appreciate things. If it needs help, it will be honest. It will be willing for a transplant. It doesn't go beyond what it can’t do. It is within the confines of skin, muscle and fats. If it breaks, it can be fixed and can recover. There is a chance at least. It beats to a rhythm that ideally sets the pace or speed of time in its lifespan. Action-driven, it never boasts. It stays humble by simply staying where love needs are greatest.

Don’t be a heart like the shape. Never like the shape. It’s two dimensional. It only breaks into two when it’s all over. It’s so cheap, it can be sold in cookie form. Paper hearts make perfect practice for your shredder. They are fragile. Drown it in water and it will never survive. It will be flashy and attractive at first but love is at its luxury and glitter doesn't make it truly shine.