A drunken god has
spoke you into existence
A stolen diary that told you,
it’s a sin to return this body
even if its weak bones
couldn’t carry the weight
of your heavy heart

I know I can speak myself out of it
With a blade in my hand
standing on the edge of the stage,
I’ll wait for the Almighty to sober up
and watch me steal his role

After twenty years of rehearsal
I’ll play god,
lights will go off,
and curtains will close

Your followers will clap in awe
at my convincing performance

As I bow before them
As I fall before you

Anxiety wraps
itself around me,

like a coat that
doesn’t fit me

like a lover that
doesn’t love me

like a fire that
doesn’t warm me

I could swear I’ve felt your touch once,
I wonder why you couldn’t
bare seeing my raw wounds?

You know,
it is never gentle to disturb
the dead with the promise of love
So why did you do it, darling?

When I write a poem,
it is for you

Even if it does not
begin with love

You were to me what
Patroclus was to Achilles

What Aphrodite
was to Sappho

If I knew that one day
I will be apart from you,
I would have quietly chosen death

I will break all my limbs
to have her mold me
as a clay sculpture

To carve her knife
into my skin because
this is how art is made

To have her look at me,
study me, conceal my flaws,
till I am finally perfect

To be owned by her,
her creation to
admire and love

I’m sorry for looking
like a stormy night
when you saw me tonight

I know, I know you didn’t notice  
the trail of blood you left behind
after we stopped speaking

I admit, I’m half glad
that you let me fade
with all my yearnings

You still exist in my dreams,
and for years I couldn’t escape
your gaze even with my eyes closed

I know, I know I can never have you
Even if you gently twist me in
your arms, and forget to let go

The distance between us doesn’t
bruise my heart any longer,
I’m already out of sight

But I still secretly pray for
all this dark water, and the two
of us simply speaking again

My beloved April moon,
when the poets write ghazal
they are writing about you

The goddess of love,
Aphrodite,
cried when I told her
that you may leave

Her tears shedding
for you to stay,
like drops of Venus

Come back
For the goddess
of love’s sake,
come back

I pretend that my heart doesn’t sink
when I remember, only fragments of you

I pretend to want this life
even when I can no longer stomach it

I pretend not to notice my scars
underneath my new green skirt

I pretend to be alive
despite my decaying soul

In the dark
I write you a letter
hoping it would reach you

It starts like this:
My beloved,
I love you still

From afar,
but I still love you
as tenderly
as ardently
as ever

I hunger for you
as violently
as madly  
as ever

And I wait

I have never wished
for anything from life

But if there is one thing
I truly wish for before
I am in the arms of death

It is
to be held
by her

To soak in her
warmth, scent,
and harmful touch

To melt deep
between her thighs
till I dissolve completely

To release an inhuman cry
from under my skin into
the dark abyss of her pupils

To be kissed by
her cruel mouth
before death comes to kiss

My dear, I am writing you from the depths of my solitude, to ease your worried heart and mind. Loneliness has been gnawing at my terrified flesh as of late. Yet, my only wish is to remain alone. Unseen and untouched. I think this is pure joy, or the illusion of it. But I am content at this very moment. I promise.

You might think that I am slowly sinking. That I will soon reach the bottom of the ocean, and you fear it is too dark and solitary there. That I might not survive my own madness— not this time, not by myself. That I cannot swim nor do I intend to learn how to. That I willingly gave my body to Poseidon as a peace offering. That I finally made my peace— not with God, but with a god nonetheless. That I am all swallowed up. That I will not see you again. That I will die lamenting your forgotten smile. That Azrael, the angel of death, weeps over my doom. That I have died long ago—
But how can a corpse feel such emotions?
How do I tell my stubborn heart that it is not beating for you any longer?
How do I comfort my frantic soul by lulling it to an eternal sleep?
—And if so then tell me, my dearest one, don’t I deserve serenity, too? After burning for a decade, yearning for a safe haven. Do you think I finally deserve to rest?

I exist in the midst of
the ruins of myself, and
the stranger I have become

The day greets me with its
aching loneliness forcing me
to suffer through its brutal hours

Even in my dreams,
I am still being crushed  
by the heaviness of the night

And I do not know
if I can bear to see
another burning sunset

What an exhausting year

My hungry heart torturing  
me with its violent desires

My trembling hands
aching for her warmth

My mind battling itself
trying to return from war

My depression,
a bloodthirsty dog,
and the nights keep coming

My soul, a wildfire
consuming everything,
leaving me with a lifetime of grief  

Yet I am still here
Shattered, but alive

Tell me, does the night go through
you with its aching loneliness?

Do you think of me when
you see a wilting sunflower?

Do you see my face when
you hear the word longing?

I know,
my love,
my muse,
I have always known

I knew that this would
be our last conversation,
but this is not my last poem

It pained me deeply,
but I knew that one day
I will slowly start to forget
your loving face,
bewitching scent,
and soothing voice

Oh, how I loved you
I knew I will still love you
even after you desert me

I knew it,
but I still held your small hand
I still worshiped you in secret
I still adored you blindly

And I still do

The piercing sound of
your silence pains me

I wish to hear you speak
for as long as I live

Mother gave
me a blade

Mine was pink,
hers was purple

It was a useless sharp thing
that’s always in my drawer

One night,
I reached for the blade,
and it felt like my
mother’s embrace  

Every time I used it,
I was being released
from all my pains

Thank you, mother

I wonder if he
still sees me in his dreams

Or if he is
dreaming of another

Does the heat of
August burn his skin

Like his
cold absence burns mine

Why do I still ache
for him?

Oh darling one,
I fear I may have been
but a passing dream to
you

Can I pour this love I hold
for you into your open mouth?

Can I write you endless
love letters as long as I live?

Can I drown my sorrows
between your thighs?

Can I devour your scent till
you suffocate with pleasure?

To you
who’s silence
pains me deeply

I admit,
I still converse with
you in my head

I have slowly forgotten
the sound of
your bewitching voice

But I remember how
your small mouth  
was my greatest desire

I have but you to love,
it is only you I dare
to want so violently

I am afraid of
my relentless
yearning for you

It sickens me
to want this much
and for so long

I have never wished for you
to turn into a memory that
only brings me great pain

Give me your
crimson mouth
to devour in secret

Help me put out
this burning desire–

All the unspeakable
things I hunger for

Be my muse,
so I can finish
writing this poem

I swore not to write you,
but I cannot sleep
because I envy your pillow

How it carries
your curls, dreams,
and tears too

Your old bed sheets get
to inhale your scent while
I suffocate from your absence

I still remain in mine
burning, yearning,
dreaming of you

I will set fire to your bed,
so you would rest your
head upon my chest

Lay with me tonight
till you find your peace
on someone else’s

In a dream,
I kiss your hand because all my
longings were engraved in your palms

Because no tongue can speak
your secret language but mine

I gave you my last clementine
because I almost died when
I saw you cry for the first time

I wanted to be the one to peel it for you,
but I knew you would resent me if I did

And because of you, my teary eyed lover,
I struggle to understand
another’s language but yours

I feel a fire starting under my ribs
It is swallowing everything,
my heart, lungs,
and memories too

Or I may just be missing you
to the point where I set myself ablaze

Tell me,
does my cloud of smoke not reach you?

I suffocate with a burning longing
Do you not understand?
I burn, I burn, I am burning for you

Be with me
if only for a moment
For soon nothing
will remain of me

I am turning blue
as the days go by,
and soon I will start to fade

But before I do,
I wish to write about all the
shades of colors I used to be

How I turned bright yellow when
I saw her face every morning,
as a sunflower turns lovingly
to worship the burning sun

Alas, I am no longer vibrant and alive
The morning sun blinds me,
and your face only brings me pain

My heart started shrieking when she said love could not save us. “How else can you explain this?” I protested as I pulled my bleeding heart out of my hollow chest. “This old thing swears to be yours, and yours only” I said with a lump in my throat. “Here is my heart, it is fragile. Break it anyway, if you must.” I cried.

The flowers she picked for me still haunt me. “How cruel of her. To **** a blooming flower for a lover she soon will ****, softly” I thought, but my dancing heart did not agree with me. “Yield” Pleaded my heart. “Yield! Surender yourself to her”. And so I did.

Love, do as you wish
with my aching body,
but do not leave any bruises

Destroy what is left
of my heart, if you must,
but do not leave me again

Longing must be an act of worship, and I do it fervently. “I wrote you endless confessions that turned into poems. But you still banished me.” I said to my deity. “I admit, I am but an unloved thing aching to be loved. Oh, it hurts. It hurts to worship you.” I cried to her during one of my confessions. “I wish to share my loneliness with you” I said, trying not to break.
“Goddess of adoration, I shall worship you in secret. In the dark, I will come to you with my ardent desires, unholy cravings, and burning longings. For I solely exist to please you.” I said under my breath. “Your mouth, a glowing thing in the dark. I set ablaze at the mere thought of my tongue merging with the river of you.” I whispered, shaking with an unspeakable hunger. “Allow me to show you how deep my devotion goes. I could burn for you” I said.

Love,
you should have kissed me
before my lips started to bleed

You should have teared me apart
before my flesh turned into
a graveyard of longings, for you

But I promise you this:
No one shall touch me
after you, not even I

My aching body,
my worn out mouth,
my fever-burned eyes,
my hungry heart,
and the rest of me
is yours for a lifetime

Though these words
strangle me to write,
you do not long for
me as you once did

I do not know who else to be
if not your lover all-night long—
Endlessly

A dream of you is capable of
unleashing so many hidden desires,
I dare not speak of

I have tired to bury every
tender feeling I held for you,
only for it bloom again

You, who sickens me
with immense tenderness
I cannot defy by myself

Your voice alone turns me
into a weakened thing,
and I am forever unwell before you

I wish to plague your thoughts,
and to consume your frigid heart

I wish to escape you entirely,
and to always be near you

My brittle heart
longs to be held
by your small hand

What you see is before you
is a groaning animal that has
forgotten it used to be human

With flowing words,
simply seeking the pleasures of being,
and an immense love to pour

By god,
I could have sworn that
I have felt the joy of living once

But now, I cannot bare
the agonizing sound
of my beating heart

You called for me
after I uttered your name
in a passing conversation,
but it’s too late now, father

You see,
I’ve already drank
your poison,
I savored it to the last drop

It’s in my bloodstream,
it’s in my hollow stomach,
it’s pouring over
everything that I am today

My soul is mine,
you can’t touch it,
it’s achingly burning from a
fire I can’t extinguish alone

Your name is laced
with mine, I’m sorry
I couldn’t forget you

But please let me
keep my soul,
It’s mine,
but can I keep it?

It burns me,
let me keep it anyway

In a dream
I drank the color
of your eyes,
and swallowed
the tone
of your voice

My mind is a shrieking graveyard
that is too freighting to visit alone

Sometimes,
I hear the skulls of all the people I
have ever loved rattling inside my heart

I do not know how to quiet
down their wailings at night

I have nothing to offer them,
but my dripping pain

Alone, I weep,
lamenting their forgotten laughter

As I stood by a window  
smoking a mint cigarette
at my miserable job

I saw two butterflies
flying together

One was orange, and
the other was white  

Two lovesome creatures
existing at the same time as us

The orange one made
me picture you peeling a
clementine to share with me

The white one reminded me
that there is still beauty in life,
and it is greater than my pain

There are more butterflies
that I have not seen yet, and
I wish I could see them with you

It is death
that I want

Not the warmth
she brought  

Not orchids
next to my bed

Not another
burning sunset

Not the joyful
songs of Icarus

It is but death
I yearn for

Next to my pillow,
I keep a bottle
of her perfume

All of my longings are
for her small hand
holding mine

My heart still aches,
but only for her

And my poems only end
with her

A year has passed,
and I am still writing
poems—pleas—for her

Three years,
and my stubborn heart
still yearns for hers

It has been so long,
and I fear I may have
dreamt you, dear one

I will heat the soup
you forgot to drink

After I kiss the space
between your eyebrows

All that I am
is a snowy mountain

Desolate,
carrying a heavy burden
that people call snow

Aching in one place
for an entire season

Longing for
a little warmth
without the risk of love

Love burns me,
and all I ask
for is warmth  

To melt,
I wish to melt
completely

Perhaps,
I will fall in love with
the sun this winter

Or die trying

I am but a snowy mountain
carrying the heavy weight
of my burning longings

I shall melt completely
to feel the sun’s warmth,
like my lover’s harmful touch

And although nothing will
remain of me in the morning,
I will go knowing I was loved

I cannot feel love
only the grief
it left me with

I am grieving
all-night long

I am overcome with
a state I fail to name

It is you I suffer from,
it is you I burn for

What is there left to say?
I am weary and out of breath,
but if my words ever reach you

Know that I am willing
to live twice for you,
if you are near me

Love,
I will miss you
for a lifetime

And it is alright,
you can touch me,
but do not leave any bruises

Write me a poem,
I promise I will not say
I am unworthy of you

Lie to me, my darling one
Tell me you love me,
I wish to only be adored by you

Hold my trembling hand,
I desperately need to feel
peace for a little while longer

Soak your scent
into my tortured skin
for I need your warmth

Make me cry,
but do not lick the tears

It is seven
in the morning,
where I wage a war
against myself

It ends only when
I take the pill

As a bullet
lodged in my mouth,
and I was the one
to pull the trigger

I am the architect of
my own destruction

I’ve survived
a dozen of wars,
and came back alive

Wounded
but alive

A wilting flower
that will never
feel spring’s warmth

The harsh winter is all it ever known,
in an unloving season
is how it leaves this world

Longing must be an act of worship, and I do it fervently. “I wrote you endless confessions that turned into poems. But you still banished me.” I said to my deity. “I admit, I am but an unloved thing aching to be loved. Oh, it hurts. It hurts to worship you.” I cried to her during one of my confessions. “I wish to share my loneliness with you” I said, trying not to break.
“Goddess of adoration, I shall worship you in secret. In the dark, I will come to you with my ardent desires, unholy cravings, and burning longings. For I solely exist to please you.” I said under my breath. “Your mouth, a glowing thing in the dark. I set ablaze at the mere thought of my tongue merging with the river of you.” I whispered, shaking with an unspeakable hunger. “Allow me to show you how deep my devotion is. I could burn for you” I said.