no one knows pain
like
the ones
who
curse their beloveds
and
bleed their heart
dry


like
the ones
who
watch blood bubble up
from wounds
self-made

the ones
who
fill themselves up
just
to empty it all
in a bathroom stall

the ones
who
refuse their meals
and
live for the scale
because
numbers
don't leave

the crying poet
the bleeding cutter
the vomiting bulimic
the starving anorexic
the lost
the empty
the lonely
the unloved

the ones
who
love too much
and
not enough

no one knows pain
like
humans know pain

Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.

Distance has a particular way of hurting:
It begins slowly, and is self-contained.
Because our mothers would often speak about Love,
and how everything falls helpless in Love,
Distance becomes a housebroken dog.
It is powerless, and whilst I love, I am powerful.
On Sunday, our fathers would teach us to put our faith in things unseen,
and so we grow confident and complacent.
Just when you think you’ve understood it,
It sinks its teeth in hard and deep.

An idealist tries to make it out light and easy
They will often write poems about finding
ideal love in the real world.
But I will write about knowing
real love misplaced in an ideal world.
It’s a world where comfort could come in binary files
filled with digital empathy and memories.
Where typed words and numbers that form
black and white promises could replace
the real and organic voice of reassurance.
Where wires between my webcams and your headsets
could entangle themselves in ways our fingers
used to be intertwined.
Where waiting for an email meant as much as
waiting for you to return home to me.
Where the strategic positioning of your punctuation marks
could transform these passive symbols
into active symbols of love and concern:

A comma, like a shared pause for when our eyes meet
Exclamation marks for when we wave to each other from across the street,
or as a passionate gesture from underneath these sheets.
A question mark for when you’re sick and I am by your bed
Worried, because you wouldn’t eat.
A semicolon for when we argue,
and a full stop for when we finally give in.
A parenthesis for containing moments of vulnerability
that only seem to leak out late at night.

You won’t know it but,
I dream mostly of an online conversation,
filled with time stamps that affirm your presence.
If I’m lucky, I will find an ellipsis
Small creatures of continuity with
heads heavy with hesitation.
…
And - if I’m really lucky,
I’d undo those black buttons of suspense
and see you once more.

Long sleeves in May,
but we never knew.
I wish that I had gone up to you
and asked,
why you wore so many bracelets.

You said you didn't eat at school.
And we believed you,
like such fools.
Too much respect, but not enough.

No one ever told you
what you mean to them.
They all forgot to mention
how the stars would grow dim
without you, the world is not as bright.
Maybe in your heaven,
you'll finally sleep tonight.

They talk about you
now and then,
and the way that things could have been.
Hushed whispers
behind closed doors.

You felt out of time and out of joy.
Out of breath,
the rope deployed.
Your world was cold.
Your hands were numb.
Razor lines, where you just wanted to feel something,
and now you'll never feel again.

No one ever told you
what you mean to them.
They all forgot to mention
how the stars would grow dim
without you, the world is not so bright.
Maybe in your heaven,
you'll have some peace tonight.

Yellow flowers everywhere.
You wore a dress,
they combed your hair.
And you, are fast asleep.

Salt was painted on my face.
We watched you fall.
Amazing Grace.
And I can't go back,
and change the past.

But I wish that I had told you
what you mean to me.
I guess I forgot to mention this
before you fell on your knees.
Because you are beautiful.
And you made my world bright.
Now you'll be in heaven,
but I won't sleep tonight.

flower petals are falling from my eyes
they pool around my feet
and
ice cream drips from my fingertips
it pools around my feet
and
waves crash all around me
they pool around my feet
and
i think i'm drowning