𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕤
𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕦𝕥,
𝕄𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 ℕ𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕.

𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕤
𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕥𝕦𝕘, 𝕒 𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕝,
𝕒 𝕡𝕦𝕤𝕙 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕟𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪.
𝕗𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤.

𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒
𝕟𝕠𝕕, 𝕒n 𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕝𝕖𝕕𝕘𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥
𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣, 𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕕
𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣-𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕖,
𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕟𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟,
𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖’𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕛𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕪!

my colour doesn’t fade
it stiffens under the
blaring sun, it sheds in
winter’s cold embrace,
little of it is given, grace,
in a world fanatic of the brightest,
little consideration for distinction,
glory by separation,
salvation derived from diversification,
how evolution chose to make
us all different.

don’t tell me you don’t
judge me by it,
because your intentions have
ensured
every time
the mirror will remind me
little honour do i hold
in your elevated, exclusive ego.

i have no more words
    for you.

    i have none other
    but a rainstorm of tears—

        the excruciating truth
        they so well represent.

    it was required for us to part,
    for peace to find room.

    you have gone your way,
    a little further with each day.

    it feels as though you find
    yourself to feel safe

        being away
        from me, and the mess i am—

    while living with burning anxiety
    that i will have to do the same.

    the middle keeps widening.
    it has done so for almost a year.

        more room has been made
        for what grace missed before,

    when i chose to expect from you
    what you didn’t be able to do.

    despite everything that assured
    that our love was for certain,

        we have had to find a divide.

    we will have to end up
            out there—

        away from each other’s paths.

Time knows not
the value of all that’s been.

Waves of endlessly tied moments,
rooted in their elemental truths,
whisper stories of then, now,
and the future yet to be.

You have found a home in my timeline,
your soul imprinted upon my perturbed existence.
Your humbling mind let me perceive—
what once seemed impossible,
a fantasy of astronomical measure.

Your eyes saved me.
Their gaze grants grace to others.
Your heart considers with unconditional expression,
bestowing attention with enigmatic majesty—
a Queenhood founded on love’s uncompromising reign.

Your voice takes me back,
pulls me under,
returns me to a time of unfortunates,
where suffering spoke in forgotten tongues.
It reminds me how vital re-examination is.

Your intellect—bold, unimpoverished—
permeated my faulty perceptions,
reshaping the fractures I mistook for truth.

You show the world
how to hold pain without contempt.

This is your glory.

don’t take a breath.
let it all fill within—
let it in all at once
contaminating it all,
condensing the stall,
converting the haul,
considering the call,

correlating to conclude.

float with each word.
feel the anxiety rush in,
flush a blush from its flash,
fulfill the ache on your face,
fill the space, shade its pace.

solve the case, aware of its place.

become what you’re asked.
let words invade your surface,
cling to condensed, coded conclusions,
it will be easier with each swallow;
it will be smoother if you allow
yourself to do other than wallow—

keeping safe inside its indigo halo.

transport your soul to the edge.
translate each disposition’s pledge,
telling tales of its trailing tributaries—
conspicuously converging conceptions,
fall ferociously fast forging fortifying forms
love lavishingly ravishingly like loaded lava
spreading unsparingly unapologetically
tantalizing tastefully, tormenting treacheries…

all for the pleasure of your imagination,
alternate to living in ignorance’ damnation.

our home is a fabric,
it flows, disturbed,
expressing single significance,
our design’s anomalous magnificence—
refined, reserved for the strongest
soldiers.
souls capable of sustaining injury,


like rays that formulate nuclear fission,
like blood rippling, dangerously feeding cells,
it only seems rational to ride an absurd progression,
galloping with the light,
onto a future unimaginable—
failure awaits assuredly,
may success be closer.

it has been a while since
my little self, hidden, felt safe—
beyond comprehension’s schematic structure,
deep within, where all that is
becomes understood.
where your words are felt,
where your expressions cause a melt—
a sudden, radical acceptance.
your self-established mantle of significance…
my little self has lost its worth.

in your eyes,
it matters no more
that human I am, experiencing life
just as you do, just as it flows,
as it nears the ultimate axis—
as winds and tides, as gravity itself.
we are alike in our search for the unfathomable,
a place of serenity,
a longing for love and security.
yet, adamant you remain in your complacency.

it would have been better to die
than to endure
your unraveling, your disarranging—
how your eyes burn with disregard,
exposing your innermost self,
enticing a taste for the misunderstood.
deep within, where all that is—your little self—
remains hidden, untouched by obligation,
playing eternity’s game,
choosing to be too lazy to care.

i have a corner for myself
a little crevice to feel safe
thoughts and emotions
dwell and swell
fanatic explosions of
genuine expressions of
what’s inside, embalmed darkness.

my little neural garden
sunflowers, petals broaden
her courage emanates;
her glow has become my sun
it would be nice, she be my own.

they are windows into a soul,
many a time it has been adaged—
through the variety of moments,
transversing the fabric of space,
as they witness evolution’s progression,
impressing upon the hippocampus;
creating memories delving deep,
deeper, further—an obsession with distance,
to hide in one’s essence,
life’s temperamental escalations,
as a soul searches for meaning,
revealing mined, elusive absolute truth.

you’re a spectacular
spectator. your eyes are my
gold.
attention is what I seek,
resounding the call of humanity,
of all sentience,
of the heart you read this with.

Blossom as the morning leads the day.
Find thy energy and stamina,
find the next step and don’t look behind.
You have the belief in thee,
even though we can never see.
From me to the world that be—
may peace and truth thrive.
As bees leave behind livelihood,
let us leave a love so true and infinite.

Bubbles will come along as the summer days return.
Suddenly, we will be filled with the audacity to dare,
we will access courage unknown to air.
For water shall always move with grace,
with least viscosity—
being easy allows room for joy’s powerful outreach.
Keeping away from the ***** and corrupted,
staying on course with the fluidity of the universe’s microwave background waves,
finding solid ground upon the humble omnipotence
of eternal springs of summer.

But once in a while,
a Buttercup shall we be.
Every once in a while,
shall our tears run free,
hidden inside in our hearts burdened—
only for the mascara to never be washed off.
Bravery through anger,
kept pure by heavenly rage.
Like Angel Michael’s flame of death upon El Diablo’s head,
her fury shall always be unfathomed,
her love shall never be tainted.
And with certain destruction—
shall Mojo Jojo scream for mercy!!!

you keep telling me that
you are not trying to be
in love, yet your hand
holds mine in contempt of
your unshakeable truth,
your adamant reservation to
the alternative truth you are


living.

words of humble insight,
shaded with anxious desperation,
my plea showing unrivalled jealousy,
seeking approval, sorting moments searching
for a pat and or a pleasant praise of dexterity.

you left me here stranded—
these words wove me into a ball
of fire, endlessly burning ashes,
an obsolescence of essence,
a dissolution of common sense.