The sky ,a shade of your angry eyes
With the flawed illusion of gray
The kind that reminds you of agony
The kind that never goes away.
Citadels high , asphalt laid down
Playing as concrete masks
Wallflowers hide as wallflowers do
From people walking past.
Never do the colors floss
Your trench coats and skirts, all the same
Does ever a person pass
Who knows more than your name?
For wallflowers hide as wallflowers do
From all those undignifies stares
Elegantly growing like ivy on brick
Always knowing, always there.

As bluebird sings through springs cool chill
the blackbird watches ever still
as golden wings of dawn do rise
to meet the mountain's sleepy eyes

Blinking as they shift their heads
and shake the pebbles from their beds
amongst the sunlight's golden rays
the blackbird sings the bluebird's phrase

Through wooded hills that gently swallow
every cranny, every hollow
dark within night's baleful gaze
the mountain's whisper poisoned praise

To stars above they speak at night
far away, entwined with light
watching down from velvet skies
with glaring gaze from soulless eyes

As on the lake does moonlight gleam
a harsher glow, a silver sheen
of longing as the blackbird sings
and flies away on darkened wings

You think for a millisecond
it's a dream
that you were good
that you kept clean
that you didn't drown your depths
in drinks despair
that you didn't hold a needle to your vein
that you didn't slide a knife against your skin
that you didn't break and pull back your hair
as your stomach empties into pits unknown
that you will wake when reality once more blurs
to friends and love and silent judging whispers

Do you ever see a picture, and it brings back tons of memories?
You see yourself there again.
Like nothing ever changed.
You remember how you felt in that exact moment.
You remember how happy you were,
how many friends you had at the time.

Do you ever hear a song, and it takes you to a certain time in your life?
You listen cloesely.
You remember how lost you felt.
You remember the people that weren't there for you, but the song was.
You flashback to the nights you spent crying listening to the song.

Do you ever see somebody's name come up and the memories just flood in?
The good times, the laughs, the hugs, the talks, the friendship.
The bad times, the crying, the fighting, the ending of a friendship.

Do you ever get a text and think "wow I'm glad I have you"?
You think how much your life has changed.
How much better things are now.
How much they have helped you.
How happy you are they stepped in.

Looking back at all of the memories, the good and bad memories, definitely don't compare to the new memories being made.
Life is worth living.

What if
We were reincarnated?

I was the plutonium bombs,
I was everywhere to be found,
Burned like stars in the northern sky;
Yet my walls were too high
And my insecurity was too deep,
For I was so difficult to be created!

And you,
You were the uranium bombs,
You were the rare atom, of one in a million.
The one that I had been searching for,
To create a massive fusion for us two.

And together
We could create the hydrogen bombs
And explode the whole world
With our love

But yet,
We were too toxic,
Too destructive for each other,
That we keep hurting our bodies;
Roaming through the sky,
Just to sacrifice ourselves in the land of earth,
As to die and to be killed,

As if
we were
never destined
for each other.

-a.d

Be still
Understand that you are filled with sensations that your body holds repressed
vibrations
Vibrations from glances
The touch of past lovers
Hugs from child hood friends
Even the hand of someone you can't quite name
You are a book held with stories
Conversations kept secret
Emotions from a deafening silence
Watching all you adore
Burn passionately in the wind
The meeting of another's soul
Welcoming yours for the first time in open arms
Smiling violently against all that is bad
You are loved
Even in the depths of the darkest times
Even then
You have a story so rich
You mustn't let it end now
You have places to paint
Words to play like a trumpet blaring towards the sky
Humans to share moments with
Skylines to stare in awe at
Experiences that keep your heart racing
A building ledge to sit on while you view the buzzing streets below you
You have insignificant days to live to remember why you are alive
Characters both antagonists and protagonists to build pathways with
and part like rivers to oceans
You are life
And you have a story to continue writing
Despite all the wars in your mind telling you to end it now
Because we each are novelists in our own right.
And I need you to write.
And never ever stop.
You have won battles
Do not let your victory dance get swept under the rug
Use it as gas to ignite the flame
Lighting your way
Allowing you to recognize
You were never alone all this time

Serenity was everywhere
after that night
Calmness  declared its
existence for infinity
All eyes were wide open
as if they are seeing
immortality,
or a ray of light
brisk bright

But I knew,
an intense darkness will be there
waiting only for me
in my vanity
What I lost
will not be reflected
anytime anywhere
in your minds
or on the pages of history
Rather
I will be ill-famed
in my own land
in my country

But somewhere
I had a feeling
that I could
bring back your smiles
Smiles,
for an eternity
And
it does not matter
whether future will see
your smiles
as history

Susceptible to supple pleasures
and carnal desires.
I should be home writing and yet
I try to find my pen and paper in the night.
Ending up in the back of a van,
while hands dig around for kratom
and mouths dig around for justification.
There are so many balloons in here,
I thought it was a party.

A man tilts his head back salivating
and yet I feel unworthy of his presence.
Why did I want to be kissed?
I remember the grabbing,
pulling, biting, panting,
but never did his lips graze mine.
And yet in the ruddy afterglow,
I thought he loved my words too.

A girl spells out her dreams in ink,
her hand moving like it means to catch something
on the tension of water
and I wonder if she ever will.

I find myself sober,
and yet envy the drunk.
We each believe the other,
is not living life.
What evidence do I have,
that I am  not wrong?

Every day is Halloween,
when you recognize the costumes.

Why did my pen and paper lead me here?

I went home and collapsed in dreamless slumber.
I awoke to mascara running and lipstick stains,
a reminder that my job is to be a comedian
for the universe's cosmic giggle.
I reach inside myself for the divine,
but find tacks and taciturn excuses.

I slept for an hour but wept for a day.

Is coping the new
celebration?

It lies
in limbo
a beautiful
wreckage
glistening chrome
the wind
from the sea
stings salty
tears for the
deaths of
youths and
one man
whose name
is not
spoken but
whispered along
the cobbles
of the shore
nature at
its most
unnatural
tells all
and nothing
a secret
like that
of Midas
but the touch
is silver
not gold
tainted heavily
with guilt
the tale
sung by
the breeze
but not
the villagers
their tell-tale
hearts thumping
as they
pass by
for they hear
those voices
that will not
be drowned