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 Jul 2015 brian bernales
jacky
I have got this  idea,
a stupid wish, a nonsensical desire
of being in a car accident.
Hear me, I want you to.

I prefer to be in the backseat,
seat belt on, and a frequent mannerism
of looking down, in front
on the driver's dashboard. I do that,
I always want to know the speed
and how fast the others outside this space
of metal and cushion. I don't want to be the driver,
knowing myself, I would not get myself into one.
I am a safe *****, that is all.
Then, here goes nothing -
I want the car to crash. I still haven't made my mind
on where or what are we going to crash.
Maybe a wall. Maybe another car. Maybe a post.
I want it to be something solid, but not alive.
Trees are the exceptions. I want the car
to kiss that solid thing, head on.

I don't want the pain that may come along,
I don't want to call it a near death experience,
I want that instant where -
everything seems unreal
or too real my head would not be able to
understand. I want that portion of time
where I decide do I close my eyes or not,
that moment that I will have my life question itself.
And I don't wish death I don't wish to live, either.
Just that moment, where I could think
how instantaneous life can be.
I want that tick of the clock
the clashing of realities and dimensions..

I want that moment,
I need to feel that moment of being just between death and life
where everything doesn't matter anymore, but I still know
they exist.

I have this stupid idea,
nothing so important, nothing so surreal
but to wish this
is the demand I am willing
to pursue.
here goes nothing /// just needed to let this out
not really sure if I gave this poetic justice but what the hell
you're my favourite novel without an ending;
a story i'll never tire of hearing.
let me know you more, and then some more.
Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, come drown with me.
Not literally
You are beautiful in the best sense of the word.
-R
 Jul 2015 brian bernales
Noxx
Paint
 Jul 2015 brian bernales
Noxx
You saw me
Saw me break my fingers
and petrify the pieces
so that your hand would never
fit between them again.

But you forced your fingers through
through the sharp rock that tore flesh
and shards of bone that pierced deep
you held my hand and smiled
A smile fleeting, staying only a second
but a smile that spoke poetry
and paragraphs kept at bay
parts of me I no longer needed
fear, loneliness, pain

But you did not love me for the new
you did not love the words I spoke to other
rehearsed behind routine smiles and laughs
you loved me for scars that hid beneath skin
You called them tattoos
Speaking stories and tales
and you said that made me a painter
and a writer
Writing in a flurry.
 Jul 2015 brian bernales
Nikita
://
 Jul 2015 brian bernales
Nikita
://
It'd be great if i wasnt on the verge of breaking down 24/7
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