Done are all the days when we
Will stare at the sky and shoot adoration
Dreaming we could take the moon home
And hang it by our window

Don't you see, darling
The clouds, they fall just the same every year
The sun too, sets just the same on every sea
So why would we think that
Ours is special

Done are all the days when we
Will blame the stars for our collisions
Says the Lunar Libran
To the Capricorn Moon that you are

This is what you wanted all along
I couldn't be wrong because the Moon told me so
The stars aligned and shone
Brighter that time when we sat
On that shore after sunset

Believe me, the night was longer
The heavens were darker,
Which meant the stars shone brighter
The night we said that done are the days
When we blame the sky for our mistakes

You take blurred photos like a blind man
And then call them sublime
Nothing stops you from singing in the rain
"Singing In The Rain"
Like the droogie from a movie
That we saw another time

Tell me another tale, I asked of you
About your mom or dad, whoever you are less closer to

But you wouldn't.
You ran out of home,
And ***** to give
Then you said I was just like you
Only if I could be honest

Maybe you were right
Also manic depressive
You are a rollercoaster ride
A theme park adventure with
No precautionary measures inside

You told me to take pictures
Like you were sure I will forget
Guess what, I didn't.

Carried by black balloons
I ascended deep in dark trenches

i. Do not think she cares about you; her heart is a wasteland and love is the rain the land knows it will not get anymore.
ii. Do not think she feels like you do; she will tear you apart in her effort to love.
iii. Do not think her being happy is good; she destroys everything she touches, ruin is more natural to her than joy.
iv. Do not care about her; no matter what emotion she is expressing all she feels is scorn for you.
v. Do not get close to her; she is a flame and whatever good she once possessed has long since burnt to ashes under its heat.

They tell me to lay down
and to please look at the fish.
Notice how they glide
in-and-out of the cool-blue
water; how they don't have
a care in the world -- they're
fish: one out of millions;
mindless; alone in packed
tanks; alone, jammed in
metal cans full of corpses
and low-quality mustard.

Putting the mask over my
perfect nostrils, my straight
teeth, they say Don't be afraid;
listen to my humming; how it
will blend with the high-pitch
screech you hear, now; becoming
an equilibrium of torture and
fantastical strangeness, unbound
by Gods, by Persons, by Loves.

Inside this perfect dark,
you cannot think beyond
the giant broad strokes that
is the world sweeping by --
and it is marvelous, the
buoyant miseries floating
above your head; my head
of ambivalent visions;
the Earth's core, a furiously
violent brilliance, ablaze
beneath my feet, under
layers of confounded
deathly masquerade; a
mask much like mine:
an egotistical reflection
brought out by one's
feeling of gigantic import-
-ance, despite hanging
from the vastest of ceilings;
a wannabe church in the sway
of jungle mind; primitive instinct.


***

You know you can wake up
  at this point, or so they say.
What does it all mean, to which
I murmur, I don't know. It's
hard to say what I know; if
anything, all I have is doubts.
All I can muster are regrets;
I wish I could return to that
perfect dark, confused and
semi-philosophical; all-
pretentious: a feeling of
being bound by brokenness.

They tell me to chill out;
you use semi-colons like
they're heartbeats. Focus
on whether your chest
holds validity.