In a city full of tall buildings and unspeakable views,
breathtaking unknowns and unfamiliar faces,
there are those sitting on window sills
chugging bottles of brew,
leaving cigarette traces

She spends her days in a haze,
sharing little laughs that make her ribs ache,
all in attempt to erase you
It's only then she sees,
an imprint on the
soul is the kind of
stain that can't be
scrubbed

I'm sitting here at my window, gazing up at the sky's beauty after rain pour, and how the moon illuminates the clouds like a night light. And suddenly I'm okay with the storm that's been roaring in my head, it's all come to an end. People are like clouds - there for the storm, and gone once it's passed. But the moon in my sky has and always will be there to bring light to my darkest days.

The first love;
so deep the ocean filled with envy.
Its vastness and mystery had me venture off so fathomless,
there was no point of return.
A love so vast,
the tides couldn't pull me back to the shores of normality.
Yet, the deeper I swam in the sea of utopia,
the stronger the storm rode in,
tossing me back to a solitary world of black and white.
The rough landing - leaving scrapes on my wrists and gashes in my chest.
Back to black and white -
the simple reality that love compels you so far deep into bliss,
you'll never see the storm’s rage from afar.
That first love is casted deep into oblivion,
and sinks quickly to the bottomless abyss,
only to reel me back into the absoluteness that
you were never ready to sink with me.

Somehow,
it convinces you to swallow
a constant flow of
molten tar,
soon to blacken the pink
matter that resides
in you,
eventually oozing through the
pores of your paper-thin
skin –
and once you finally
unlock your jaws to
scream,
The ones you thought would
save you shove it back
down your throat with
laughter.

If I could, I'd grab hold of all the memories and feelings I have for you out of my soul and throw them into the night sky and as a result, they'd fill the galaxy with more stars - a beauty only to be gazed upon, but not felt. What kind of love doesn't hurt so bad? It’s far from a heartache; my whole body trembles and shivers at the cold winds of missing you.

lips pressed, long drag
if it was anyone else,
I’d step aside, look away.

chest raises, you take another
my eyes see your interior -
smoke travels quickly…

breathe in, breathe out
why can I see the residue
in the cavity of your lungs?

lips pressed, chest raised
why am I the one
who feels light-headed?

I watch you fill your lungs with
the opposite of life,
and all I want is for yours to last longer
than mine.

summer lost in all of you,
and how lovely it is to not be found
gone is the silence,
for my heart beats clear and sound

summer lost in all of you,
and in your eyes - a compass
exploration into your deep abyss,
a beauty so bright and fathomless

summer lost in all of you,
and loving you holds no description of escape
consider it natural,
or humanly innate

you see,
a summer without you is a fiery season,
and all the others -
the same with no reason

with you,
every day is summer's eve
and if you gaze beyond the trees,
you'll catch a road built,
for the journey of you and me

Once the sun decided to stay awhile,
the locks melted away,
and no longer would I crave you —
face pushed between the bars.

You held me for the first time,
no restrictions between you and me.
And I dug my face in your embrace,
in order to find your heart.

The gates swung wide as we danced,
under the sun, under the stars,
and time was non-existent.
Were there really ever bars?

Traveling through time,
you finally looked at the clock.
The season ended, the bars re-locked.

I long for you for eternity it seems.
Forever I wait at the gates,
in hopes for your return.

The walls you signed your life away to
were never thick enough to seize your
Tone of condescension aimed at
the woman that I needed to draw strength from.

Your Roar echoes, vibrating
through my Vocal Chords to the point that
I can’t reel back the sharp hooks I continuously
sink into my lover’s back.

Maybe it’s you I should blame

For letting my first “love” wrap his sorry
hands around my Throat, lips
black blue Red

For convincing my adolescent self
that the Chatter of a girl was nothing but
White Noise, that my comfort
lied in the Dialect of
teenage boys

For believing that I could never find
comfort in the Words of a woman –
your copious Lectures filled with disdain and
the only Words I can ever recall were the ones
she never Said

As if a woman’s Voice were most valuable
when Silent.

the fog grew thick
and the clearest sound I could
recognize was your
Voice.
I haven’t driven by this god-
forsaken place in weeks,
but it’s always a warm welcome.
instead of being ordered to stay here,
I have the power to visit –
on my own
free will.
the silk sounds of your
Voice give me the strength to
communicate the exact visions
in my mind,
where my tongue tends
to slip.
you take a shovel through the
dirt and grime that fills this
lot that once was an intricate maze, Walls
covered in vibrant green vines.
And I tried for
years to stop you from
watering those Walls – trying to
prove to you that these prison-concrete
Walls were just that. Walls
that make you clutch your
throat and gasp for air.
what I didn’t realize was how lovely
it could be to walk hand in hand with
your one true love surrounded by
over-grown vines until
this warranted
reunion.

– what it’s like to be in
harmony w/ your subconscious