no sadness is beautiful nor poetic;
free me from the awe of suicide.

our skin is translucent, as one we flutter and fade
- our time here is temporary

You mixed two packets of melancholia
into your coffee today,
and I had to bite my tongue to resist
to say, "I thought you liked it black."
I watched as you daintily taste-tested
it from your spoon and was delighted
upon seeing your grimace of
disapproval (you're adorable when mad).
I took note of how
your veins pulsed underneath
your deeply tanned skin
and I longed to be the blood that
traveled through your delicate body.
If only I could map out your cardiovascular
system and find all the detours and
shortcuts to your fragile heart,
memorize the freeway that
encircled your figure and learn
when to avoid rush hour or when
to take the fast lane.
I found myself fantasizing about
the day you were conceived and
how you beat out all the other
potential embryos - that maybe,
you were chosen out of the thousands
for the sole purpose of being with me.

haikus are about
nature - here is one about
his haematite hair.

I put what I thought was a castle in my mouth but it stung.
He pulled the pulp from my teeth and I remembered
some use this to make their skin white, some sting every day.

Cover the emotions you wear on your sleeve
So they won't detect your pain.
But hold firmly to what you believe
And flourish like flowers with rain.

They want to cut out your tongue.
They want to extract and burn your eyes.
But don't panic, turn and run.
Only resist their bags of lies.

Promise to protect your tongue.
And remember to correctly perceive.
But don't panic, turn and run
With your emotions dangling from your sleeve.