closing in on me
c        l        o        s        e        r
c      l      o­      s      e      r
c    l    o    s    e    r
c  l  o  s  e  r­
closer
i used to have space
now i'm squished in my own thoughts,
the people around me,
the loud noises,
and the quiet.
the quiet is like your best friend.
the one who lives across the country.
the one who you wish you saw more
the one you wish you had
by your side
all
the
time

it is not the poetry perse
that we depend upon as an escape
it's  the words that we use
to keep our aloof soul safe.

as i sat on a soft
and mowed lawn,
i saw the morning light
of the becoming dawn.

as i closed my eyes
to make a wish,
i remembered you as my star,
gone but alive in my mind at least.

Don’t we all hear the same sound
of a raging stream
Don’t we all feel the cold breeze
of September’s wind
Don’t we all see the stars shining bright
when it dims
Don’t we all smell that flower’s scent
when it’s spring?

The sound of a flowing water wants us to know that
we still have its melody when we hear nothing
but bones breaking
The touch of zephyr wants us to know that
we still have its warm hug when we need
to feel a thing
The view from above wants us to know that
we still have its solace when everything
our hearts see is darkness
The scent of the flower we hold in our hands wants us to know that
we still have its beauty even when we feel like
everyone’s stabbing us with its torn, cutting our flesh.

We are alive even if we don’t feel like we are.
Love still flows even if we live from afar.

it’s the silent murmur of the breeze
and the gentle enclasp of the cold
around the frozen heart she holds.

a skeptic and a believer
in one cracked soul;
a not so lover of words
and a poet in one beating heart;
a grotesque and a beauty
in one complex mind;

it’s a person against the world
and a human against himself.

Her life is a constant wonder
with soul incessantly wandering
the blues of the deepest voids,
oblivious of the turquoise-blue
it could've found in the shallow of the sea.

She has a mind that seems recondite,
abysmal and profound
she still searches for the meaning of each word
for, to her, it doesn't seem much wrong
maybe the reason she is not understood by many
is because she is not trying to be.

Life can be hard to decipher sometimes
one won't be certain of living
with the absence of existence
yet the other one is certain of existing
even without living.

i never knew silence that much
until that very afternoon
when i tried so much
to hold my teardrops
and hide the sobs
that were exploding inside
my weary body
and my wrecked soul

i wonder,
if i was found dead that day,
would they think 'twas suicide
or would the police say,
"she was slain by the silence
that was enclasped within her solitude"?

cold as the ocean
she flows like rain
down the street
to the water again

devoid of colour
she splashes and cries
under the lamps
with no light in her eyes

crackling like thunder
she sits by the river
toes in the water
and cobble beneath her

grey as the clouds  
her salty tears shine
she loses control
to the storm of her mind