i will siphon you desolate
and leave a desert
inside your veins

and the oasis that was
once your heart
will become a tomb
sand-flailed
eroded
buried

the same you
did to me

My poems rarely trend
Guess I'm not a trend-setter

Two boats float on the horizon,
as I watch the setting sun.
They put the picture in perspective,
how deep and far the water runs.
It makes my concerns seem awfully small now.
The vastness hits me like a bomb.
The burden of my ghosts lifts from my shoulders
and I think "Alayhim as-salaam"

I stared out the window
and looked out to the sea
to see that my wave of nostalgia
had been waved back to me

I swallowed the ocean's cruel reciprocation
like I swallowed my tears
both were salty and bitter,
reminiscent of all the nights where I had drowned in my fears

My sinking ship, are you still out there,
and are you coming home today?
and if you return from your world of blue,
will you leave after you get what you need, or will you come listen to all the things I have to say?

My love: the world is lonely, and the sky is crying
not even the flowers bloom in full content
the smiling sun is all we have left to mask the pain behind suburban gates, but it fails to assuage my only complaint:
when you stood on the shore and said that I was your anchor, you never told me just what you meant

Where did you go,
and do you even still care?
oh, my sinking ship, no matter how far you stray,
look to the waves and the sunset for me, for my heart is bound to meet you there*

-n.a.