I am back in the cycle.
The back and forth
And back again
Of the silent non-silence
Of this filthy city life.

I wake up in the bed
I laid in the night before,
Rise up to take a liquid ****
And retreat once again
Into the blanketed dome
That is my mattress.

The sun shines through
The cracks in the seemingly
Single piece of colored cloth
That we call curtains
And seep in through the fabric
Of the actual single piece of cloth
That we call blankets.

When the ****** star's light
Is more than bearable, I take away
The blanket from my face
And face reality as it is
From the cool and calm not-peace
That is my room covered in sunlight.

A few more hours
Worth of wallowing in not-happiness
Would be very sufficient
To start the "day".
A few more hours
Adjusting to the hellish yellow light
That blinds my eyes,
But frees them from the darkness
At the same time.
A few more hours
To plan the next few hours
Only to not follow the plan
And once again act on impulse
The same way I did yesterday.

I fear
But I do not know what I fear
Maybe it's
Late nights wasted with people
And thoughts of people
Who do not matter
And who will never matter
Or only mattered once

Come with me
Through the noise
And the disarray

The deafening tones
Of screaming children
And dying adults
(Millennials probably
We both know
That they never
Shut up)

The world
Around ourselves
Is a path
Of broken glass
Atop coal embers,
So I beg you
To hold my hand
And walk through them
With me

It is human nature to desire death
Especially in this day and age

The world around us has become a collection of instants
From the messages we write up to the noodles we eat

Life goes so fast that we absorb so much at once
Our minds are filled with milleniums
Of words and dates and names of people we will never meet
And knowledge of places we will never go to

Humans live too fast
Our minds faster than our bodies
And when our minds live life to the fullest
We are left with only our bodies

To escape
The horrors
And reality
Of life
Is enjoyable

May it be
Roadtrips
And city lights
Or highway reflectors

May it be
In relics
In museums
Or paintings
In hallways

May it be
In dark movie theaters
On summer nights
Or in sunlit parks
On summer afternoons

May it be
With the love of your life
On condominium balconies
Or on soft beds

Escape
The reality
Of the cruel world

How would it be like to die in a gutter?
A gutter made of cold pavement
That slowly grows warmer and warmer
As I lay down and feel the life drain out of the pores of my skin
A gutter with stagnant water turned green
By whatever the hell makes stagnant water green

Some nights I see myself dying in a gutter
I feel the warm blood rush out of my mouth
And the icy gutter slime on my right shoulder
Both of them cooling my skin, one more than the other

I watch cars full of people
Who don't care enough to help a dying man
Pass by my side as I die sluggishly
With their rubber necks and undeaf ears

I don't want to die in a gutter
I would never want to die in a gutter,
But if there is peace and silence in dying in one
Let the cars pass

it was the night that we burned our lungs with cigarettes on the overpass at 10 PM. you looked at me with that glint in your eyes as if i had done something good, even if all i am inside is a crumpled mess of suicidal thoughts and black holes.

“if you could relive any event in your life,” you said while taking a long drag from your third cigarette. “when would it be?”

i wanted to say something poetic. something that would take your breath away. something deep. something that would impress you, in a way. i wanted to say something that would bring heaven and earth together.

“now.” i blurt out.

i hear the wind blowing through the trees nearby. i slowly look up to you and was surprised when your demeanor didn’t change.

“why now?” you ask with an uninterested tone in your voice. you chuckle slightly and i ball my hands to fists. “there’s nothing captivating about now.”

i feel a sharp pang in my chest as soon as the words came out of your mouth. suddenly, every thought on my mind was about how i could prove you otherwise.

i throw the cigarette that i was smoking on the ground and stepped on it, ignoring the slight burn on my feet. in a rush, i turn to your gaping eyes and cupped your face and enclosed our lips together.

you tasted like cotton candy and nicotine, and i loved it. you took a second before kissing me back and god, i could feel the stars sighing from above. my body trembled from the adrenaline rushing through my veins. i love you i love you i love you.

“if you could pick a specific time to relive,” i speak right after i gasp for air. “when would it be?”

you looked at me with those eyes that glistened in the moonlight. a heartbeat passed, along with a random stranger who gazed at us while you cupped your hand on my nape.

“now.” you breathed.

and your lips were on mine again.

Beams of morning light
Force their way into my room
The noises from the cars
And motorcycles and the TV
Blast their way into my ears
But I stay strong

I am not ready for a new day
I do not want the sunlight or the cars or TV
I am not ready for a new day
And I would rather stay under my blanket

If I could tattoo my poetry to my skin, I would
I would show them my word-riddled wrists
Where the scars used to be
And the prosaic verses sprawled on my neck
Where I planned to loop the rope

If my poems were good, I would tattoo them on my skin
Sadly, all I have are a sophomoric amalgamates of odd words
That make dead poets turn in their graves

To the yellow dress
hanging above the jumbled mess
of neglected overgrowth at the bottom of my closet

To the yellow dress I bought far from home
at the open air market
where I talked with the stand owner in a half language
about the failings of my home country

To the yellow dress that hangs just below my knees
when all the other girls seem to be about shorter skirts
exposing ever more of themselves while I'm closing off

To the yellow dress
i wore with red lipstick to say goodbye to the first boy I cared for

To the yellow dress
i haven't put on since that trip

Please, please remind me
that there was a time that I felt excited, inspired, alive
and that I am going to feel that again
even if right now it feels like my pain has taken over my body

Please, please remind me
That I'm going to be alright