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Jan 2019 · 195
red snowflake
fifth Jan 2019
this choke to make you feel
light-headed
the half-naked girl standing in front of me
i smiled
the lips, awaiting one unfortunate
gripping of tongue
this december fueled by hindrances
in a week we might call
a year
i know
i know why you color your hair
half-red
its fires sweep what's left
of the suffocating oxygen
as if stuck between the walls
of two houses
i know
i know that everytime you undress
its meant to entice an embrace
that will clothe the skin permanently
no more drunk messages in the wee hours of the morning
to wake up nightmares our optimistic eye would see
as a redemtption in waiting
the alcohol bottles you sleep with (you need to put yourself to sleep with) quietly put to the side
you can rest now
this december needs you
the cold cannot be felt without your heat
Jul 2018 · 218
cc
fifth Jul 2018
cc
storm ranges blitzing
the animal crossing
of your skin
while the faint smell of gin
lingers
couched, soft stomach dispensing
each nicotine hit you blaze
the eyes pierce sharp
butterfly leverage and the sword
between your skin
makes me faint
oh, black sweater madness
in this hour of midnight
Jul 2018 · 228
attachments
fifth Jul 2018
I'm worried that
loneliness
is the only thing
I am fond of
Jul 2018 · 225
fated
fifth Jul 2018
We were there
even before the universe fell into place
Star-crossed lovers
Two eventualities collide in the backdrop
of an ever expanding space
Jul 2018 · 206
candid
fifth Jul 2018
It's hard to say this but
I'm happy we decided
to let go of each other
Jul 2018 · 178
80
fifth Jul 2018
80
It was 2 p.m.
and it was raining
Slipped between my
lips is a cigarette
I bought for five pesos
And as I drag the hit
burning the tobacco
inside the white, rolled
paper of slow death
The mist produced by
a collision of raindrops
and hard surfaces
reach parts of my body
Cold, goosebumps prepare me
for a slight shiver


It seems odd


Odd enough that I take another
batch of poison gas
Throwing myself more into
a void or a sanctuary or a
jail cell for the ******
Looking up, the clouds
were a mix of blurry vision
and felt like a dark premonition
Something's about to happen
It wouldn't rain so hard if it didn't


Back then


Back then I remembered an incident
where I journeyed towards home
I kept waiting for my mother or
maybe it was a guardian of old
Move me back to my sheltered existence
No one was there this time
My heart, pulsating both in frustration
and fear kept me from collecting
myself; same with the raging pouring
of the rain, shattering liquid into
tiny droplets
Courage seemed to avoid me until
that moment
Moments putting us into a corner
And all we could do is to cross
the line between restless indecision
and frantic action


I guess it wasn't enough


Releasing the final moments of carbon monoxide
I slip back into the place where my body is
fixed upon
People playing chess, a woman walking in defeat,
men hurrying and scuttling their things
protecting them of the indignation
I walk back inside and I sit as do everybody else in
the room
Divided by a green piece of wood
Encapsulated in their own little bits of happiness
Sometimes, colliding with others
Mostly, alone
Clicking insanely
as we always do
Jul 2018 · 202
85
fifth Jul 2018
85
in riches or poor
valiant increases of fervor
flow through incandescent lights
waiting to be filled
with something bright or honest
honest as the birds in flight
justified through means of tender care
and unending honesty

Even then i remember
each step my fragile body
stumbles upon
shivers and shuddering winters
between my thighs
oh how you warm them up
like supernova sunshines

carefully placed inside flaccid muscles
waiting to be fulfilled
overwhelmed by faces
concrete buildings
bundled into
unnerving kaleidoscopes of beautiful
spectacles of thought

space; sets of evenly matched colors
flow unto trembling tremors of tactless thought
random, rambling, rancid odors
and in the end
precisely splitting atoms
hydrogen bombs
exploding
imploding
my brain, humbled
my soul, fulfilled
Jul 2018 · 209
telephones
fifth Jul 2018
you would sometimes pick up the phone
and whisper, "i love you" to me
whenever strange signs you
wish would happen happens
every 1st day of the 1st week of every
month you'd send me sweet loveletters
inside pink envelopes mailing them
a week before since post moves
slow but i wonder how it gets there
exactly when you want it to be

and when you wanted to break up
you got what you asked for
how i cried for hours after dark
and maybe float my head while
in school trying to conjure up
ways to make you mine again

i had the that last chance
dated august 14th
you had practice of your sport
and i see you flying your
ways in your shorts
sweaty with the passions
gritty on demand
a bunch of flowers in my hand
you saw me saw you
and you closed the gap between us
just to rub my hair all wrong again
you walked away
i walked away

i never saw you then
since high school flies
as people move on to places
sometimes forced; others out of open will
i was one of the middle kind
forced to get away from all the bad memories
openly running as far as my feet can bare
but before leaving
i took our old telephone set
and its still with me in my apartment
then id wish for strange signs
like maybe if i see a man in a red shirt
in a red car you'd find a way to call me
and maybe whisper "i love you" again
Jun 2018 · 179
11:33
fifth Jun 2018
I'm sorry for my hand squeezing your shoulder.
I'm sorry for the crossfire produced by our eyes.
I'm sorry for an advanced lamentation, the hugging of our thighs.
I'm sorry for awkward rides my spinning makes - you revolve around mine.
I'm sorry for starting our days without caffeine or ending the day with shouts.
I'm sorry for tomorrow too, I wouldn't be welcoming goodbyes.
I'm sorry for the cursors pointing northwards, different skies.


Maybe then our apologies could collide.
fifth Jun 2018
Before, I was a young child
Standing innocently beside
a rusty green gate
that separated my anxieties
from the harsh land
and rough air


I breathe in, slowly,
as if to memorize
the patterns my body makes
Expanding then imploding
A perfect metaphor
for how a mind makes its
own maze and how everyone
of us wants to escape


Stalemate
Continually playing chess
against my own self-consciousness
Nay, my very own Tyler Durden
Sometimes I lose track of time
And all of a sudden things
whisper back to me
Inaudible, I shrug as I lay
stationary in my bed
Looking straight up at the ceiling
Green, white, I do not know


I remember things
Remembering is peculiar
Moments seem like dreams now
I cling to it
And I feel tired
What is my connection then?
To that young child
A picture on the wall
and the face of a man,
grown and ragged due to the
rigors of modern times


Everybody wished they can go back
At least once
I know, I can't speak for everybody
But, truly, deep inside me
A longing for the past
that seems so uncharacteristic of life
Colors, mentioned only in name
Faces, blurry and distorted
Places, forcing us to smile at
happy memories or frown upon them
Yet, I can never connect again


Someone said to me that the potential of
humans are equivalent to
an explosion of a million hydrogen bombs
One for every molecule in our body
How I wish I could explode
Not like a hydrogen bomb
Dynamite will do
Jun 2018 · 274
burned man breathing
fifth Jun 2018
In worlds redacted
I try to be somebody
Anyone but you
Strange, circulatory motions
Like twisters in the Midwest
Dust kissing my eyes
And tears get collected like an oasis
Sipping air, pressure cooker malice
Straw(berry) rich, footsoldier fetish
I owe you one dearly
Generally speaking
Major coincidences
Captain fantastic
Confusing as it seems
It's just not their lucky day
Like a broken umbrella
You'd only catch a cold
But somehow people weep
When they saw us alone
How could everyone notice
Radar signals in Livorno
Be careful of each step
There are mines everywhere
Sleep in an abandoned mansion
Play Bach or beware
Burned in a crash
Nomads carrying me everywhere
Give me morphine, I swear
I'd swim in desert caves
Jun 2018 · 230
punch drunk heavy
fifth Jun 2018
gliding through
those dangerous yellow lights
stepping outside
the smoke-filled highways
entering into a relapse
hazy chemicals started creeping in
black stairwell standing thin
with a balcony audience; telescopic justice
cctv cameras with red dots flashing
fearful, slugging away the underworld
malcontents
but ******* those lips were made for
mine
they were made for figuring out
starcharts; territorial exercise
executing movements, kamikaze sake
whirling death
where you'd definitely put it on repeat
looper paradise
steal the narcotic shockers
and donate it to this poor
soul, Pablo Escobar
even if you exit through
the shadows
maybe i'd still find you
biochemical traces
neon-covered faces
in those dangerous yellow lights
fifth Jun 2018
Stiff necks in soft cushions
Where 16 hours of sleep
equates to multiple contusions
Unending packets of blood transfusions
Circling deep under massive invasions
Sick of swerving swiftly
through thick vegetation
Showing normalcy amid
crazy confrontations
I spell out your name
without the vowels
devoid of imaginations
J-X-T-P-S-T-N-S
What Ariane Grande would
call side-by-side positions
I can do it all day too;
No interruptions
Only in cold Decembers
are hot showers cleansing
body parts exploding
Melting point reached
vigorously preached
incantations
Messing my mind, demonic infestations
Jun 2018 · 255
96
fifth Jun 2018
96
i ride buses
going to and fro the lights
reminiscing, undercurrents etched in cinder block wood
hazy; whether or not those were happy times
its not too cold
maybe i should skip to the other one
but diesel fuel needs a few more minutes
to pick up its momentum
and now i glide from various vantage points
unsure and i lack courage to sit alone
now sandwiched between the window and chance passengers
forced to recall inches beneath the waist
bullied by bodies refusing to move and give space
maybe if i said "excuse me" i'll be able to alight
i wont go home on foot though
fifth May 2018
i. tear the last pages of a memory serving to make me space out like the other night before

ii. have a digestible evening once served with wine, now with only a sip of fake untested usefulness

iii. quietly place my hand over your warm inflections or just absorb what was an embrace... if you let me

iv. avoid staring at people sitting in parkway benches. please don't litter. i'm tired of being alone

v. i was hoping to say "i miss you" but the words seem to not flow through as intended. sorry, i wasn't ready for your glow.
May 2018 · 143
stranger no. 2
fifth May 2018
I remember the first time
we pressed our bodies together
And wondered how two morbidly
wretched souls
Can somehow manage to make
unicorn rainbows
Skin peeling off in all directions
like a sorry house in a tornado
Ivory gnashing lips bruising
what could only be called a
sadistic guide to that doorway
An entrance that I might want to
explore
Flowing through every gape and hole
like some mechanical oil
Stark raving mad about some idea
that maybe once we're done
exchanging our putrid-ness
every bit of tar in my body'd
come out in a filter or a cigarette ****
How can you be so ******* perfect
and scary and remind me of ice cream in
indian summers
Can this be real where every kiss
is a stab wound through my vital organs
Judging by the fact that I'd like to take
you out and have tea with the Mad Hatter
and that insane hare
Leave you bare and leave you there
Coz you may be foreign here but I was foreign there
Suffering here in sovereign fear
But I wouldn't stretch you thin although
you'd really be imprinted, Cheshire Cat-like
leaving your smile or should I say gnarl
You'd be the best of my days
May 2018 · 184
bedpooling
fifth May 2018
sandwiching yourself
between the silk and sheets
you embrace the soft
feathery cushions
where our faces would
melt with each other
how i'd try and slip
my hands and move to
make you warm
or how you slide your feet
and tangle them alongside
those thighs which seem
to indicate that
we both hunger for our
opposites
you would lay there
back pressed against
the bubbles
waiting for any execution
of those heated conversations
we have in absent early mornings
i'd hear you catch your breath
and maybe moan a little bit
as the shivers turn into sweats
the silk turn into flesh
i love it when you flush red
you hate it when i stop
abruptly, trying to find my pace again
during the course of that late
afternoon bliss
our bodies would be exhausted
by the fervor beneath our bones
a bloodlust targetting a vein
its too early to explode
but beauty doesn't last forever
so id make the most out of it
in cold weather
May 2018 · 136
velvet rooms; sunday moons
fifth May 2018
You drench your skin
with milk and honey
then swiftly grace the halls
like gazelles in a safari
electric, like the current
moving with ease
in saltwater
how justified the steps
you take and make the
ground move and quake
tectonic movements
that shape the earth
the air you breathe
and exhale during whispers
ignite fires
provide explosions
passionate kisses
untamed melodies
coming out of those lips
moving slowly like an eclipse
how you blind with the glow
inaudible gratitude
falling like snow
and just as you appear
disarming every foe
you take away the life
disappear in the shadows
May 2018 · 188
hey its your birthday
fifth May 2018
swivel like leaves
trying to embrace
the wind in autumn spectrums
others may recall unending
words
"will i die?"
"will i live?"
but words are only sound
bursting itself from
those fine vocal chords
twirl, vanilla ice cream sundae
in your white dress
with your feet touching the grass
smothering them
and dirtying your soles
short hair spectacle
smile more
laugh a little longer
you'll get a puppy soon enough
and go to college stronger
impulses like trying to catch
buses you always miss
will be gone
stay
dont force it
lastly, weep only when snowflakes
touch your cheek
fifth May 2018
its okay
its okay
and maybe the words i speak
seem so appalling
i can only look at you
without blinking
it feels weird now
since im used to
flanking you
preventing excursions
now i rush towards the center
and take my cap off
for security inspections
you go the other way
i punch the card
ride the train
clenched fists
a faint hint of shaking
its okay
its okay
i was seriously thinking of
falling off of that footbridge
reflections of buildings glaring
but i continue to walk
all the while scratching my arms;
baseline for replicants
im way off the mark
there's a bit of sobbing
near-tear ordeals
god, its like im being crushed
on an everyday basis
i wish it could stop
but its okay
its okay
im meant to be this way
unhinged and mute
fifth May 2018
you place my hand
on your thighs
and i grip it tight
against the cold
pinch my chest
whisper secrets
in my ear
i forget we're even watching
some romantic film on the screen
reckless in the dark
my heat pierces through your cheeks
command my palms
to weld with yours
sometimes tip it with a kiss
the lights are on
i forgot the plot
but you're an artwork
i wouldn't miss
fifth May 2018
you enter spaces
like roots finding cracks
in walls
its hard to guess
where the next subtle movement
would come
locations where your feet
would land progress into
a concerto
much like Beethoven's fourth
or a sad nocturne from Chopin
either way is preferable
compared to traversing
without the shadow
of your opaqueness
im sorry if i transgress
but i'll always take the bet
rumble numbers in the lottery
other than that i hope you'll
have a good night
fifth May 2018
brown eyes tumble
like a serenade
long hair dripping
sweet marmalade
gentle steps with your
worn-out shoes
id wipe them clean
those foggy specs for you
build me architecture
in Helsinki
even if its a mismatch
for our soul anatomy
impressions thick
with eyes astray
you've left the current
i was bound to obey
in any case thats left unsolved
this brief encounter
could unfold
pull some strings
and play some vinyl
when we use cheats
it doesnt mean were not smart
May 2018 · 192
1/3 trying
fifth May 2018
memory fades
in gentle cushions of thought
how days turn out quite refreshing
without hapless sprints
towards your progress
no more liquified knees
or rushing breaths
im still scared by the way
of how your scent can
blind periphery vision
narrow it down to your location
i might not help myself
convert shades into desert screams
all the while invading
spaces between you and me
unjust weapons
excluding options for surrender
let me bury you know
deep; pacific rim
unfortunately
im like a wave flowing
through the beaches
the wind yearning to
touch your cheek
the sand slipping
between two feet
fifth May 2018
you see streetlamps
racing their lights
across the skyway
towards home
sitting at the edge
in a cold machine
hard cushions
reminding me
of words said or unsaid
my head resting over
the foggy window
as my spectacles provide
the vantage point
that lengths widen everytime
the wheels revolve against
its asphalt counterparts
ribs soring from some mysterious
catastrophe
as a few days ago sharing
a bed with someone close, but still unknown
long hair dripping wet, tied messily
still hoping that your hand would reach out
and find my way into mine
its not too late
fifth May 2018
a place where we could hide
and scream our infidelities
swirling in bubbles trying
to survive the sand
holes resting itself
in uneven ground
palms clasping slippery rocks
when all i ever wanted
was to pour my pressure
on yours
muscles aching for warmth
an embrace or an unexpected caress
the sun burning this skin
medicine - cold water and alcohol
just as i wanted to escape
i realized my feet revolved around you
May 2018 · 627
3:06 AM in living hell
fifth May 2018
in many ways than one
i try to see the figures
resting on my shoulders
heavy; helium homicide
bringing nothing to the table
mixed with ounces of
awful regret
o how we'd twist and turn
in a rollercoaster
give me bags of that
cotton of a heart
undo any contracts
barring my submission
to your just looks
i only wanted to make you smile
piecemeal enchanted
it hurts when you say goodbye
you often say nothing at all
fifth May 2018
full rooms of thought
uncalibrated in its exercise
to disperse moments
relentless, subjects cease to exist
only bodies are allowed here
faint, cool strokes wander
in paper or canvas
smothered in full spectrum colors
edges smoothen while you return
it must be said that distance
in itself is not real
only when our heart beats simultaneously
should we collide
the backdrops turn into one
hopefully i can write poems in your skin
while you paint me with your kisses
foreign entities submerging, enveloped
without slumber, without rest
fifth May 2018
Summers spent beneath
shades of Sycamore trees
Rest in blue velvet
arms collapsing in between
Two feet would touch the ground
waltzing endlessly
Scream till our lungs
burst out; California dreaming
Oh! How I'd wish you'd
know that stars shine
above these fileds
I wouldn't want it any
other way
Blood gushing through
these streams
fifth May 2018
Sweetness, why would you
give me sweetness?
I'm prone to fake deliveries
My sanity near the end
And then?
Once we say goodbye
I'll bury myself
close to you
My chest pounding in
frustration
Situations
fifth May 2018
Lie, in the midst of crumpled
bedsheets you smothered me
until my cheeks flush red
Lie, holding my cigarette ****
flicking it towards dried leaves
Lie, heavy dreams set across
wildflowers eating away the
living grass
Lie, milkshakes and honey sweet succor,
my tongue drenched in awkward
fluids from your orifice
Lie, deep eyes see much even
in pitch black eclipses
Lie, pen and paper held by
calloused hands this creature
remains unheard
Lie, bedroom voices hushing; the metal sounds;
four quarters of this fist-sized ***** gently
fifth May 2018
I.

This bed shares memories
of both pleasure and sensations
of disappointing traces sliding
aimlessly at bodies that were
once embellished here
Spaces, limited spaces where our
lips thrashed against each other
The warm embracing around
your hips
Adventures down your neck
My head resting between your *******
Or when alcohol would put us
in somber sleep
Before that, prayers hoping
that for once, our touches were real
Symbolic, how you'd visit before
light even comes - nocturnal animals
Entangled bare naked asunder
It couldn't be me and her
in between without you

II.

Time, again and again stripped
the edges aren't territories
anymore
Silk Roads adjoining continents
One, amorously full of vigor
The other, waiting for an exclamation
of retreat
No third parties are allowed totalizing
the pardons we once kept secret
Flesh is weak; Life, pretentions
The ****** exploding; I hear my stomach whimper
God! I exclaim
All this worth for scraps
We hide behind the tall buildings
Go back once more from
whence we came
May 2018 · 164
how come summer has rain?
fifth May 2018
sunset drip on foreign evenings
white residue from dried out tears
they stain on the oversized gray t-shirt
you gave me 3 years ago
nail polish fracture your wind penetrates
the open windows in the 17th floor of this
complex building
perched high up from the old mango tree
its been decades since its fruits
peaked in this open world of sorrows
lips chapped and torn (though it is of no consequence)
i hope in every meeting since then the fast pacing
junk trap melody you still sing counts the seconds
worth sparing for
fifth May 2018
sunday madness (the still connection of a humbled past)
the summer flattened during afternoons by rain
a faint smell of the asphalt rising
sip the avocado concoction
i add milk to elevate its flavour
my feet bruised, ironically, over its lack of use
sideways, the partaking of limbs
along with the fingers i feel only
a hinting ache from which a bedside conversation
might ensue
hanging flower petals storming underneath loose
fabric
lullabies i hope to hear but its pitch too high
ecnounters jolting volts in the hundreds
place your pink-haired head softly in the cushions
my shoulders try to imitate
May 2018 · 172
An Elegy for St. Elise
fifth May 2018
midnight summer air beams
while the gin pours deadly
through my mouth
eyes sparkle heavy, reticent
my movements delicate
as to avoid the penance
from which desires spring forth
i am a nun and my convent the
disastrous care of strangers
i once shared my bed with
or they once lent me theirs
pull and fasten straps
my wrists bears the wounds
that my continued dependence
on cigarettes announce
the departure of my scars
in the form of its ashes
clothes well spent
only to disperse them
nakedness, my confidence
spills like milk
any tablecloth dressing
its intended furniture
would soon embrace
my liquid shape
circus rides, a carousel
brings faint hints
of repetition and disgust

— The End —