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Oct 2015 · 921
steven Oct 2015
some nights he wonders
why his fingers are
lonely branches in the
breeze, why no thing nor
person is tight around his
waist, why his college acceptance
rate is a charming 1%.
he knows it is just a
mirror — he walks
closer anyway and
pretends he's in love,
says it won't be like
this, that only he'll love himself
forever, that only glass
separates them; he believed
every word, so he leans
forward and kisses those
cold lips tasting of
breath, musk and never;
the universe was cruel but
this was nice, he thought.
he left his lover without
saying goodbye, knowing
someone would always be
waiting for him.
Sep 2015 · 548
all I ask
steven Sep 2015
Living isn't enough; every
breath is an appreciation
of the divine that winds our
hearts. Every second is a new
miracle that fits neatly in our
palms: many of us hide them in
pockets. I've discovered the
electric charges hidden in our
fingertips—how a touch can spark
life and transform us into something
more. We're here in this moment
together, our souls written in the
present tense. Kiss me into the
earth, letting me feel the curves of your
rivers. That's all I ask of a name.
Sep 2015 · 533
steven Sep 2015
the way sweat
lingers on my
eyelids makes
me wonder if the
sun loves us all too
much. the world is
a crowd and he is
not a river—just a
hailstone tailed by
blue. twice a week
my eyes watch for
opportunities encrypted
in that spiral pattern; i've
only seen it's crystal
shadow. my light shines;
i love too hard;
the sky begins to drip
while I gaze; we melt; i
wish i could be moon.
Aug 2015 · 486
in a way we just
steven Aug 2015
fall to pieces on the
carpet, disembodied
fragments, pretty pink
petals making messages
as they waltz with air
particles, spinning in
cyclones oscillating in
orbits before landing a
curtsy on the cotton,
each shard of us a
miracle dancing to
earth song and reverie
"What's your ideal relationship?"
Aug 2015 · 433
dark place
steven Aug 2015
i speak from a dark
place but i know light;
i've balanced on the
tightropes of esctasia
and feel the physical
support of tension
kissing my heels—yet
all i do is look beyond
the nets below and
find myself enabling
disaster before one could
ever hold me.
Aug 2015 · 561
steven Aug 2015
they massacred my
words, little infants,
reduced a family into the
most valuable survivors
to publicize, capitalize
upon, and, once seized,
demolish all tangible
ties to its siblings its
heritage its truth its
web of conversations
Aug 2015 · 392
steven Aug 2015
love has a language but no
gender; i'm fluent in long
stares into the windows of a
soul, but lately i've been
out of ledges. i kneel beside
the glass and feel the wind
fly flush against the clear
nothing that separates me
from his stormy arrival—
the welcome brewing in my
bones. The minute i find him,
the second his spirit ossifies
into olive skin, the moment
i feel my roads heading some
where that is not my own
darkness, i will capitalize my
i's, enter the unknown and
excavate, feel the rush of the
earth as it spins me in the
cradled grasp of the atmosphere oh
yes; i see him holding up the
horizon, though he looks like the
sun — in time, i will spill into the
sea to meet him at the water's edge.
Aug 2015 · 806
steven Aug 2015
i must settle with the
speed of sand as it
cascades onto the
heap, each particle
a memory shard
of late night chats
and broken absolute
promises, earthdrops of
silica falling frictionless without
complaint like the way we drifted apart,
the mound of regret a soft malleable thing able to
be shaken and reversed but never lessened, every
grain a lesson, a small piece of us lost among the mistakes.
Aug 2015 · 427
steven Aug 2015
I am everything that
can stop me. These
words take either seconds
or centuries, and I choose
indefinitely much too often.
I think in millions, write in
scores, love in ones—I
belong to the atmosphere
swimming in auroras,
always a spectrum of
mystery. I create what is
not human. I create what
Survives time. There's nothing
left to do but create.
Aug 2015 · 365
private void
steven Aug 2015
The chair is always empty.
I imagine faceless men there,
Watching the muscles in my
Face shift like tectonic plates.
I dream up their arms big and
Strong like oceans that wash
Against my continents.
These men have no shadows,
Just bodies. They speak in
death grips, keep me sane.
Seconds spill into the night,
And I am still alone. I stand
To leave and they remain
To haunt me when I wake.
Aug 2015 · 981
love is wild love is
steven Aug 2015
screaming slashed thoughts
words without direction
fighting invisible forces
neurotic scratching we
exist in two conflicting
dimensions never ending
retaliation blind
diving everything
slowing down, down
before the crash, the
impaling, the release—

Aug 2015 · 373
steven Aug 2015
We stand back to back
eyes closed
hands pocketed
hearts filling with the black air.
I sense your attention drifting
in clouds
surrounding me
begging me to dream.
I must escape your poison
smelling of love and
I must sever the threads
of one-way desire
that bind me to your
luring shadow.
I deserve to love someone who loves me
Aug 2015 · 654
write wild // we two
steven Aug 2015
some days I write
wild my fingertips
tipsy electromagnetic
light shows in my
kingdom constant
earthquake in my
bones gaps in my
voice but never my
words caverns of
regret where I bury
you hourly trapped
breath & smoky
                 to feel you
underneath my skin
kisses like raindrops
soft linens clean
insides the carpet in
every shade of us we
two nonconformists we
two ends of infinity.
Aug 2015 · 542
steven Aug 2015
I've been making deals
with my talons as they
graze my tufts of fur—
perfection is poison I don't
want in my blood. The contract
is written for the weak, the
signature line too divine
for my name. I must learn to
walk with feet, not wings. The
sun is already at a lovely low;
surely my wax frame would
spill into the ocean if I were to
ever attempt to kiss it.
Haven't written anything in a long while because of college classes
Jul 2015 · 511
steven Jul 2015
i found you under dim
hospital light with suicide
attempt written across your
stars; faintly i could hear
candle fire burning in your
lungs, a flame wavering in
surrender patterns. somehow
the world put you and i into
orbit, but now we've become our
gravities, always sinking, life
on our lips, waiting for a last
anything, eyelid canvas taking on
the promising color of moonlight.
Jul 2015 · 1.1k
word play
steven Jul 2015
i speak love in
conundrums, map
my innuendo into
casual conversation,
drench my words in
a pool of duality to bait
raw instinct—all in hopes
of catching that double-time
flicker of the eyelid over
dilating pupils: the mark
of a fatal blow, the lightning strike
of confusion, the green light
signal that the games may begin.
Jul 2015 · 1.1k
steven Jul 2015
singing in front of strangers
terrifies me to no end, I battle
my runaway heartbeats as they
fly and thud against my glass
chest; I feel the blood flush
hot and livid through my
limbs & search for cool
pillow sides to chill my
cheeks, wondering why the
only sounds I make
whine, how the mind can be
infinitely stronger than the
body how fear can run
through programmed behavior
why telling myself "you wont die"
is never enough to quell my
aching nerves—phobia is the
unswallowable lump in my throat,
the inexplainable fight or flight, the
"no" whispered in every language to
my gullible muscles—one day I will
sever the fear at its root and enjoy
the fruits of my own liberation.
Jul 2015 · 864
opposing forces
steven Jul 2015
patience ignites—words
burn through defenses, desperate
scream of resistance emits, breaths
impossible to hold, tongue wild
muscles locked, shouts of
frustration ears bleeding elbows
bent, attempts to solace the
loose-cannon brain, diatribe
retaliation stubborn toes snarling
mouth, suffocating the flame—
moving on, moving on, gaze
toward the horizon, jump forward
lie down and feel the weight of that
heavy heartbeat, never letting the shoulders
sink                                                                  in.
Jul 2015 · 565
life is madness I
steven Jul 2015
cannot stop scratching
the bottom of the bucket
my hair irritates my
dreams I stir the bowl
****** and make another
man plunge every night
is cut short by the daily
do I stuff myself with fresh
leftovers the bed dust is rough
with my scaly flesh I cannot die
clean my morals neither
align nor agree the summer nights
sag with restless air I feel my
love for him slipping her texts
disturb my need for peace I
feel the imbalance of straight
acting tomorrow's weather is
foggy I will stop looking for
stars in you.
Hot summer nights, mid-July
Jul 2015 · 826
steven Jul 2015
low self-esteem means
i don't deserve anything
better, my failures reflect
my person, my value is based
on a number, my i's
don't deserve to be
capitalized, never expecting
a love letter from the world,
worshipping people over
religion, trading my volition
for his capricious affection, the
hope and despair of being
lucky to be loved at all.
Jul 2015 · 638
steven Jul 2015
No one could be red
Quite like her, a crimson-
Caped gal full of rogue
Thoughts like fire storms
That burned for revolution.
If I wasn't so afraid of setting
My dry-leaf life ablaze, we'd
Be more than just two grey
Facebook users playing the
Block game. But from those young
Days and long nights, the vague
Inklings of camaraderie linger. I
Remember her velvet soul, a fine fabric,
Tough and royal but always
Twisted. She kept roses in her
Wild hair but thorns in her
Tongue. Light refracted through
Her ruby body, beaming out every
Color of the human psyche,
But all I remember was the red.
Perhaps I saw the blood in her
Lips, the glow of passion, the
Spark of something I couldn't yet
Understand. Perhaps I was nothing
More than my fears. Perhaps I
Simply mistook her for a mirror.
Dedicated to an old best friend
Jul 2015 · 528
steven Jul 2015
my time has come; true love, please
take my soul into the galaxy of your
hand, spin me into orbit around your
dreams, dance with my devotion to
your desires, feel the fire burning in
my eyes when our celestial bodies
collide—we are one divine moment
apart, separated by the future tense,
misled by mundane mirages of fear,
the gray unknown that steers our fates
astray; but my time has come, and
so has yours—align me into your
constellations and know that I already
belong to you; I beg you to risk the
impossible; it's all that's left between us.
((i know you feel the same way, just ask me about it))
Jul 2015 · 841
thinking of you
steven Jul 2015
i let the sidewalk catch
my daydreams as I practice
the motions of love, imagining how
long it should take for you
to fall into my arms, confecting my sweet
words into perfection, testing
the way we cannot fight
the current in our oceans,
imagining life that started
with a kiss—smirks becoming
adventures, worries flattening
into horizons, the contrast in our skin
tones creating a balanced ink, our
oneness a calligraphy that
cannot be rewritten.
Jul 2015 · 488
steven Jul 2015
slowly, warmly, we
crane our soft necks,
catching the droplets
of sun while reaching
for palms, sticky skin,
interlaced fingertips—
outgrowing our shells
that drop like sky pillars
around us, blood racing
through veins in a dense
forest, our romance like
infinity in water tubes,
a melody in ocean waves,
the gravity in his words
causing me to accelerate;
the world divides us into
night and day; the earth
mistakes us for air.
Take love slowly
Jul 2015 · 466
steven Jul 2015
finally understanding the science of
freedom—loving mad, thoughts
running in firework circles, chasing
horizons, befriending the alone,
choosing the way you die—I
stopped staring at ratios & coercing
them into gold; alchemy is dead, and
art is not a numbers game ((division
is a terrible skill for writers to have))—
expression is not mathematical, and
my words are not for calculating eyes
to evaluate; follow a formula for desired
results—my breath cannot be defined.
Jul 2015 · 638
steven Jul 2015
Seconds fall fast
fleeing forever I
feel evermore forgetful—
we dance on our delete
buttons hoping all is
well capitalized forever
assuming quality can be
quantified like ***** drug
money, stopping to wonder
why fear is America's Most
Wanted why nothing sounds
infinite why I hide behind
commas why thoughts don't
shoot like bullets how
poems are made when the
words will finally flow
free of doubt, full of fantasy,
fighting the force of friction
I feel the world falling fast
as the mind collapses like
pillow frames a second too
long, a spark too alive—
we live for sightless speed
Jul 2015 · 468
steven Jul 2015
apathy is hard for
easy hearts ;
we gravitate around
each other's orbits,
avoiding collision &
deleting memories &
moving forward with
peripheral vision

we know how to ignite
tightropes like nooses
only more hollow ;
our eyes shift invisibly
from the ingrained warmth
of our carefree touch
to the scissors of fate and future—
the best thoughts mingle with
desire, and so we suffer
from the fires and fires
we burn with the million heartbeats
spilling like shadows behind us
Jul 2015 · 619
steven Jul 2015
we love through computer
screens, typing kisses into
code, our hands becoming
one interface, every pixel an
eye that stares back at us,
observing the electrons that
make us human, particles
glowing in our blood, bits
infinitely shifting, compressing,
creating space for us in the
digital world.
Jun 2015 · 1.2k
smoke & acid
steven Jun 2015
We are two sublime entities
pushing boundaries shifting
shapes drifting through life
stomachs eager for the madness
of digestion smoke & acid
billowing pillowing spillowing
against the organic walls
the defenses so thicc & sticky
we scratch our heads calmly
patiently waiting out the silence
conversations can't understand
so comfy we love our close
nothingness our joint voids
our abysmal futures
Jun 2015 · 532
steven Jun 2015
You and I, our
skin singed by pride
as we reach into the
abyss of the other’s
insecurities, finding
flaw in logic, solace
in higher volume,
our voices become
storms our minds form
one blind, blind drive
to fight and be right
while the fire burns on
underneath our flame-
kissed flesh, paper
bodies fueling the
furnace that eats
itself alive.
Jun 2015 · 343
imperfect execution
steven Jun 2015
the bullet stopped at the
back of the skull;
a shame,
he absorbed the force of
a hateful world
but wouldn’t let it
let the blood
let it all run

this villain was once
a hero when mud
was wonderful &
gun powder was miraculous;
he collapsed intact,
metal pellet and iron will
clanging with the concrete earth,
his ears of cartilage
dying to hear the world's
v i  b   r  a t i  o   n  s.
Jun 2015 · 474
steven Jun 2015
Slow down and
Wind back to find your
Core, for
Youth is the salvation
And death is the solution—
Look back at who you couldn’t love
In those careless years
And find me
Hanging in the summer breeze
Like a dandelion
Grown long, but left untouched
Because of your gentle perfection.
You have the hands of God
To all but yourself, yet
I don’t deserve someone as perfect as you
If I can’t deserve myself.
The ugliness in our minds
Bind and mingle,
But you can’t expect me
To stay single long—
I’ll be long gone
Discovering myself on a
Broken road
Somewhere distant and cold;
So please,
Lover of the summer wind:

Catch me
Before I do.
Old poem I wrote a long time ago
Jun 2015 · 2.0k
steven Jun 2015
Skin erupts, itches
fingers resist temptations
small fight over guilt
every night wishing
looking into clear mirrors
feeling the reflection
applying lotion for moons
pricey creamy dream
exercising self-loathing
the unphotographed cheek(s)
endless blame
Jun 2015 · 644
c o z y
steven Jun 2015
Comfort belies madness
in these white walls
clean sheets
warm water streams—
At night, I fall through
a foam mattress
into subconsciousness so
bleak black broken
like home like
past like
May 2015 · 1.6k
(pat)riot pt. 1
steven May 2015
At the Berkeley protests,
the streets smiled with
sledge-hammer teeth
chomping away for peace.
Windows were smashed,
trash became the air
     in flags of ash,
police in riot costumes
picketed the peace
     like a fence
teaching the pretty
     protesters a thing or two about place
but the tear gas said it all first:
the system is broken.
May 2015 · 781
steven May 2015
your binding gaze makes my blood freeze
from the waist down and crushes my feet
to the point where step is impossible

my toes curl inward—
they die one by one
& merge into a beautiful
dead lotus leaf

I will be sold away
to another man's house and
never set foot again
on soft clouds of dreams

I was bred to please another
feet grown to smother
May 2015 · 495
Frag Queen
steven May 2015
Beautiful thoughts evade mi
casa, su casa
Blanched walls, Inner AnoMaly
                                                        A­ MESS
Hall with clean-faced mirrors walking
Talking the daily news & last night's
Midsummer party—I passed out drunk
                                                         ­       Onely.
Dec 2014 · 1.1k
steven Dec 2014
I saw Vietnam

Packing my future into
Impossibly small luggage
Rolling down the streets I knew
In the vicious rain.
We added to the crowds
Of strangers going the same way:
We boarded the bus
Knowing time, fighting our
Way into the train, watching
Our watches, feeling cheated,
Chained to home.
This is our stop.
One minute left.
We shot off, bags and all,
Down stairs, to the ticket station.
Mine went through; hers didn't.
No time left.
She asked for help from a white man,
But I couldn't wait for risks.
"I'm gonna try to stop them!"
I said, running to our bus
Luggage and life with me
But not her.
The driver waited for stragglers
And there I came.
I showed him my things slowly,
Trying to delay, okay?
Show a smile, own my breath, yes.
Then she came, panting, and the world was okay.

We boarded the bus,
Found two adjacent seats,
Me inside towards the window.
The heavy movement made us all so sleepy.
Looking out, we were over the Oakland Bridge,
Rain pelting all the San Francisco Bay—
But that's not what I saw.
The calm blue green ocean looked
Familiar, like a memory from birth.
I felt older, the world felt younger.
I saw boats, people, my people before me
Floating on the water's ease.
I felt connected to that world I never knew,
But knew

I saw Vietnam.
On my way from Berkeley back to Los Angeles with a friend, somehow I felt the memory of my parents as they left Vietnam and immigrated to Hong Kong and then to America, where they had me. I just felt a little of the experience; they felt the whole.
Dec 2014 · 844
Time Passes
steven Dec 2014
and it drifts out in sunsets
from throbbing eyeballs
locked on horizons,
thinking staring
following that double-frame
earthquake spasm
cut to black and blacker
behind the skull
Sep 2014 · 1.7k
steven Sep 2014
Perfectionism is deadly when it's believable:
A plant with infinite roots in my brain
As if my entire existence sprouted from that
Seed so evil that my very veins
Pump pride and pretensions through me
Pulsing, rising, filling me to the brim
With false dreams and glimmering hope
That feel hellishly hollow within.
Sep 2014 · 15.0k
I am the air
steven Sep 2014
I am the air—
the creases of your clothes,
but trapped and restless
in your veins.
Sep 2014 · 1.9k
steven Sep 2014
Two rivers flow from my heart:

One famous to the people—
Revered, acknowledged,
Relied upon to renew life
In those strong, able mothers,
Whose water is playful and tame;

The other only known to the
Beasts of the forest—the exiles,
The infidels, the disillusioned
Sinners since birth, and the
Secret prophets who understand
Love and continue to preach it
Across treetops, under skies,
Through minds and closet doors
And kitchen knives and civil[ian] wars.

Bless their souls, those words of peace
Shine brighter than the sun
(Rumored to rise over everyone).
My rivers breathe life within me until
The source depletes, and my heart is still.
Sep 2014 · 352
steven Sep 2014
It comes in the void of my chest,
In the silent dryness of my motionless lips,
In being seen and left alone,
Begging for attention, for a canvas
On which to paint my love in
Rainbow shades, then to be showered with foreign
Color: joy, guilt, lust, depression.

I want it all on me—to be the subject
Of one's art, to have it all
Flood my ears and hug my very
Existence—to have my body justified
By the gruesome secrets that hide.
Sep 2014 · 422
I miss this—
steven Sep 2014
I miss this—
The tranquil rustle of the leaves,
The midday sun at full throttle,
An uncomfortable heat surrounding the
Foul dissent of my loose-cannon brain,
And a stinging void of your memory
Left in haphazard pieces in my soul—
Yes, I miss it all, just
Short of the waste-bin
After having bounced off the rim,
Projected back in flight
Only to fall, victim to gravity.
Sep 2014 · 476
steven Sep 2014
I like big boys
With clean shaven faces
And ***** insides,
With genuine common sense
And half a working mind.
I like them psychotic
So they can chase after me
To the end of their arms,
To the clasp of their firm fingers
Holding me tight like
The wind holds a tree
In its aimlessly violent grasp.
I went through a phase.
Sep 2014 · 652
steven Sep 2014
The mental imbalance I live in
Tears me apart; I despise how
My actions speak volumes louder
Than my heart, than my soul.
I can never feel whole—not
With the dizzying ache of
Memories to regret and never treasure
Buried so deep in the mud
They turn to stone, forever
A lump of solid sin in the
***** of my earthy throat.
I feel the emotions colliding within,
Crashing, flaming, shrapnel arrows
To my pride, my integrity:
Conscienceless, dull.
Any day will death take me
Empty-eyed and still,
War having razed the skull.
Sep 2014 · 397
steven Sep 2014
On sight of us,
The light captured in an onlooker’s eyes
Naturally retains the gold shimmer
Of your god-like graces

While I,
Opaque with sad demeanor,
Only obstruct the view
Of the glory that is you.

True, the sight of me
Is not an ungainly hue;
My inner darkness is brilliant—
Almost as bright as you!

But in humor, voice, command, or smile,
Your shadow extends more miles.
This envy I bear turns my thoughts into fire—
O magnified refraction, burn this man they admire!
I always feel invisible around you.
Sep 2014 · 499
steven Sep 2014
I will not be great—
At most,
Pretty **** good at confessional;
The clunky words sticking to
My once-agile fingertips
Make hardly conspicuous sounds.
Even if they resonate within me,
The goosebump ecstasia washes over
In waves of unsure relief.
I feel detained by dreams of fame
That sour my sweetest songs—
I now rechant alone.
Aug 2014 · 489
steven Aug 2014
The most beautiful things in life move
To the song of nature's energy:
Wind pulses through the golden trees,
Dances through every leaf
Falling, spinning, shifting the dirt,
Then the ground, then the Earth,
A vibrant soul rocking the planet
Around its tilted, cradled axis
Lovingly, strong,
Heavenly spirits suspending the world
In a symphonic motion of passion.
Cal is so beautiful
Aug 2014 · 1.1k
steven Aug 2014
Days like these
I feel
In a million
War time
Aching to be
Settling for
Stripped of a
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