Your frozen words float
like flakes
falling from invisible lips.

Aimlessly I would
pick up the yearnings
trying to caress me.

Talking to me in
hushed tones, to give a
tang of silence and release.

The otherness, like a
silvery spider's web invites.
You wait at the edge, pondering―

To walk in or not. You
bite your tongue, cannot move.
There were suicides.

The cadavers talk.

I could **** you with 1 ton of dynamite!
That's all it would take.
BOOM!
You're dead.
Don't make me do it.
Don't make me **** you with 1 ton of dynamite!

26 | 31 Poems for August 2017

These pictures sharpen the edges of blunt memories.
All I ever wanted was for you to feel my words like Braille.
But somehow you were blinded by the sight of someone else’s love.
All I ever wanted was to be the poem written on the pages of your soul.
I constantly keep reminiscing about the days when I used to feel whole.
Whenever I’m feeling low, I get high off the thought of blunt memories.
I need love and freedom – I need to let you and all our memories go.
Our love is as deep as the ocean but I can no longer go with the flow.
I may never find a reality worth dreaming about if my heart is filled with doubt.
All I have left are these pictures of you that slowly sharpen the edges of our blunt memories.
If your blunt ever lasts longer than our conversations then I hope you’ll get high off the thought of you and me.