Please don't go.
You're my best friend.
My sister.
I don't wanna lose you

Please don't leave me
Alone with out a friend

I found him
Amidst of ignorance
And murmur
"Oh my god", one said.

My heart trampled when I saw him
I was broken...
Left behind on a big mess,
Ignorants entangled with their egos,
A creature,
A small creature
Pure
Innocent
Alone
And wounded...

He was terrified
I looked in his eyes,
"Could you please help me?"
"I am all alone."
I saw the gleams
The lonely gleams...
The same as mine...

I tucked him on my temple,
Wounded and alone,
We went to the clinic
A white, man made blocks
It was not a mere *******
It was the savior of us.

I lie him on the table,
A silvery, metal table.

Someone tall in white appeared
A kind tone of him said,
"What has happened?"
And there, I put my story
A heartbreaking story masked by my cheery tone.

He is a big boy now
A big yet young golden haired pup
Joyful, kind, and warm creature
Lucky,
As my second self told me
I named him.

Loneliness bound us
To get through this harsh plane
Kindness is what he taught me
Everyday, in every life...

In kindness and loneliness we bound,
I miss you buddy...

now
i'm not speaking for everyone
just the ones
who are like me

it's not masochism
neither is it psychotic
but the pain we love
and the love we pain

for pain brings us
to new levels of understanding (the self, others)
to greater heights of seeing (the self, others)
to lower grounds with (the self, others)

p a i n
the dreaded four lettered word
l o v e
another dread in another day

the immeasurable love
that brings us
immeasurable pain
and yet we throw ourselves in

for what more can pain/love do
except to make you feel
                                          ...pain?

A trickle of time
melts its way down
a mountain of perhaps.
Other trickles
from others' potentials
merge and mingle;
become a stream
which grows as it gathers.
Soon, soon,
time no longer
is guided by stone
but carves it,
carves unwilling rock
into fissures.
Earth itself is rent
by what might have been;
time gathers the debris
and carries it downstream,
deep and slow and wide.
The canyon it cut
is deep and wide as well,
and twists and turns
with branches and dead ends.
Our lives are but a shout into the void,
echoes which carry and fade
along canyon walls,
unless and until
an ear downstream
might hear them.
Perhaps they will;
perhaps not.
The river and canyon both
are fickle;
hold their secrets close.
The only potential
once here

is to shout
until no voice is left.

my body is a hotel full of guests who do not pay their bill
room 1 houses a boy who wraps his hands around my throat as he asks about my father
whispers from next door ask him if he is really afraid to die
they seem to come from inside the foundations of the building
and his upstairs neighbours are always banging on the floor in the hopes that he will notice them
my walls want to cave in on themselves
and the dining room is always full of monsters
bathroom drains clogged with hair and ****, pipes moaning in fear
i am filling up and it is terrifying
a sick, sick man is squatting in the basement
all of my residents know, but nobody says anything
out of politeness or fear
until it is too late, until
he has breathed his infection into the air
then transferred into the lungs of my occupants
using me as a conduit