Heart's alive.

Help me please.
This is a disaster, you see.
It's not suppose to be like this,
You and me.
It doesn't exists.
And I'm trying to resist
I cannot believe this.
I think I am crazy.
But honestly,
what can I do?

Do you think this way too?
Maybe.
But God only knows.
And God won't tell me.
I won't ask.
But I do miss you.

Maybe tonight I'll get high.
I'll escape to the sky.
Far away from earth,
far away from these thoughts.

This time,
I won't get shot down.
The arrows are aiming.
but I have a shield.


You and me.
It doesn't exist.

Heart's alive.

Arrow pierced me.
I wasn't looking.
Now I'm falling.

Tell me this isn't happening.
Again...

Heart's alive.
Help me please.

I'm falling.
This is a disaster you see.

It's not my fault...

Your thin curly moustache,
makes me smile.

You must make a lot of people smile.
with the music you create
on the side walk
outside the art gallery.

You sway with passion in every note.
despite the biting wind,
you are joyful
thrice you winked at me.

Please come back
violin man.
We never spoke with words,
we could be friends.

I wish I knew your name.

What her heart wants
she cannot have.

What her heart needs
she does not understand.

Why her heart beats
for one who never speaks,
but only in her dreams
she cannot say.

I feel like a fetus,

unborn and cradled inside

the only world I know,

unaware that soon

I will have to leave

this form of innocence.

the purest moments

of a human life,

to be exposed

to everything

that will try to rob me

of my purity,

Do I have to leave,

Forever?

She still wants to be skinny.
She still cannot love.
She still cannot see.
She still is her own bully.

She still cries.

Still.
Even after all this time.

You are everywhere, Eros
Everywhere but here
holding my hand,
looking deeply into my eyes
and beating within.
You can't hide from me, Eros,
I see you on her lips.
I see you in his gaze.

Eros, I dream of you
I cry for you
I wish for you
and I pray for you.
Eros, grasping you
is like trying to catch smoke
within my hands.
Eros, you like are smoke.
because you cause me to suffocate.  

Eros, you are hiding in his heart.
A heart that is not in range
to hear my rhythm.
Look for me. Listen to my song.
I'm the dreamer, dreaming out loud
sleeping under the tree.
Wake me up, Eros,
so together we may climb.

Eros,
I miss you.

Cupid teases me in the night
like a ghost,
invading my dreams.
He meddles with my ever-altering
unconscious mind,
a world I wish I could remember
before it gets swept away.
Please cupid, stop playing games.
He doesn't miss me.
Upon any unlikely encounter,
the last thing I would see is a delighted smile
let alone his warm embrace.

They say when you dream about someone,
that person is missing you.

Sounds like wishful thinking to me.

Let them drop
like a drop of honey.

Salty instead of sweet.

Maybe if I drink these tears
I can understand.
If I can taste these tears,
will they give me a reason?

Hello October
Can we be friends?
I felt alone in the summer,
it was all pretend.
Now I miss the stars
and I miss the trees
I miss the feeling love gave me.
It's not hopeless, no.
A hero is coming,
please don't let this be
just another fantasy.
Hello October,
I'm glad we're friends.
I love seeing Autumn life again.

I thought my heart was dead.
maybe it was his electric blue eyes
that brought it back to life.

He was a beautiful stranger.
A boy named Jean.

We met in the city,
A brand new chapter
We were both about to open

We were the new artists in town.

But why should he choose me?
I hated my heart for beating too loudly
Muffling my common sense
that a boy like Jean
wouldn't love a girl like me.

Small talk and short glances,
I was afraid to look into his eyes
They might've drowned me.

Stupid heart.
You wouldn't stand a chance.

And I was right.
One autumn afternoon
we studied history as friends
and he saw the most breakable part of me
Accidentally.

Only to find a few days later
He had already chosen someone else.

My heart began to crack again.

Will I always be vulnerable
to beautiful strangers,
Even if they become friends?

Whatever we are doing

We are doing alright

That doesn't mean it's easy

It just means we are fighters

This is the end

On the ground and in the mud
Body trembling and body curling
As if I were returning to the womb

This is the end

It came from the sky
and death rolled to me
in the shape of an egg
I was ready to die

This is the end

Eyes closed
waiting for the end,
but the end never came
it was a dead grenade

Not today death, not today.

Maybe there is no escaping this infection.
Maybe there is no cure.
The moment he touched my heart
I fell from the sky.

I've been trying to get off this land
for far too long.
I belong in the sky.

I cannot believe it.
You took me down again.

*I cannot forgive myself for this.

May we meet again,
Hoping my heart is immune
to falling in love with you,
all over again.

A new face.
Curiosity surfaces.
Wonder and wait.
Will we go places?

I dream of lakes that are mirrors
I dream a thousand miles away
where the pine trees whisper
and the birds sing a symphony
where the stag walks next to me
and the fox follows close behind
I dream of the mountains in the refection
I dream so far away from here.

Side effects may include:
dizziness
madness
insomnia
drowsiness

I've had it with this.

I just want to be me.
Naturally.

No prescriptions.
No drug addictions.

I am not my own,
but can I at least have some control?

Familiar strangers are everywhere.
Some look like you,
remind me of you.
On Kensington Avenue
there is a man
I have talked to.
Why?
Perhaps because I thought
he looked a bit like you.
Though he was much older.
He could almost be a much older you...
He could almost be your dad..
maybe...
He is a shopkeeper
In the market
of finely hand-crafted bags.
The market...
One of my favourite places to be.
So many interesting people
So many curious places.
You would love it here.
The man was so friendly.
His deep brown eyes
just like yours.
He gave me perfume.
Remember I told you
about the perfume I was wearing?
It was years ago...
but I remember.
He was a man on Kensington Ave.
A familiar stranger.
Friendly to me.
Perhaps I was too friendly to him.
He reminded me of you.
And sent me into
this nostalgic wander.
Your eyes.
I miss your eyes.
I miss your messy hair.
I miss your voice.
I'm crazy.
I miss you.

****** I'm crazy.

I wish this bitter-sweet nostalgia
would end.
Because it's not like
I am ever to see or hear
from you...
ever again.

All because I walked down Kensington Ave.
And met that friendly man.

My favourite moment with you,
the ones I will always remember
is when we were dying,
fighting so hard to stay alive, to stay together.
I was crying. Not for my life. For yours.
Your eyes were closing.
"Keep them open, " I recall pleading
You were smiling. Your mouth was bleeding.
"Lets make this one count." You replied.
And I tasted the blood on your lips,
the same blood that flowed from your heart.

You may ask why this is my favourite moment of us.
Simply because I knew in that fragment of time
Your wish came true. As did mine.

They say connections prosper
when death leers into your eyes
There is nothing can tear us apart,
bleed us, defeat us
Together our spirits can never truly die,
Mine will soon be at your side.

I will never forget the day we died.
It was the day I saw your real smile
and the day of my very first kiss.
We did not leave our bodies in vain.
We left them fulfilled with hope & bliss
God promised our vessels will never rot.
As we rose forever to the sky,
witnessed the Heavens crying rain.
For us. Joyful tears.

The vessels we left became seeds
Intertwined,
to one day birth a magnificent tree.

Remember when we were dying?
It was my favourite moment on earth.

French press.
Coffee beans.
I just can't get it.
The right balance.
All I want is to do
is to make the perfect brew.
The perfect cup.
Energizing.
Revitalizing.
Satisfying.
Barista style.
If I can't even do that,
If I can't even make
a single decent cup,
what am I doing here...

I just end up with stained porcelain.

It's hard to say
if there's ever been a day
without the lies
getting into my head
choking, teasing, pinching
as my eyes devour the image I see
and make me feel this way.
This is what I pray,
to have new eyes
to wash them clean
take away their swords
with a flower in place
Help my spirit survive
in this temporary temple
to love my body.
to love my face.

There will be a day,
I've put up quite the fight
for these new eyes
for a different form of light.

May I be victorious tonight.