people always
ask,
"how was
school?"

or maybe,
"how was
work today?"

why is it not,
"how are
you doing?"

because
that's more
like
listening
rather than
hearing.

it's not that
the camera
can't see
your beauty

it's the fact
that it cannot
fully grasp
that you
are such
a beautiful
soul,
inside
and out

your disheveled yet
soft hair that's been
run through
and through
with my hands

your chest
that heaves
in breaths in a
way to
calm down
the leftover
excitement

your eyes
that look at me
with such affection

your lips
on which
i placed
countless kisses
all over

our hands
entwined ever
so loosely
yet stays
as it craves
the other's
touch

you're so
*******
beautiful

the soul
does not
rest comfortably
until
they have completed
their goals
or
part with a loved
one

guest house
of the
moon,
please
take care
of the one
who departed
from me
who i
cherish
so

sitting
in my room,
phone in hand,
thoughts
all over
the *******
place

typing
then clicking
the go
button
to put out
whatever
is in my mind
at this
very moment
to the world

what the hell
it'll be
better
(i guess)
when i finally
get
some sleep

in the midst
of it all
despite the
foundation
being of
toxic ground

a flower
found its way
to bloom
after plentiful
struggles

i am
that flower

the concept
of an afterlife
qualified
only for
the most
holy of holies
is what scares
me
the most.

what if
i've been
good
my whole life,
but one part
of my heart
makes my
entry
rejected?

so what if
i'm gay?

at least
i'm not
as immoral
and hypocritic
as
you.