You seem to accuse my affection as flirtation.
I have come to a realization:
your skull must be thick
and your brain dull
to believe
my niceness could equate to a desire to bone you.
It is no torture being my friend;
there is no horror to the friend zone

with elegance and charisma
he sweeps into the room
consciously making heads turn in awe
he smiles, a gentle lilt to his lips
he is a gentleman of the past
bringing with him swoons of dainty women
his eyes are sharp and his heart sharper
he bats away confessions as easily as dismissing a thought
he pursues none
for he needs none
to give him amusement or pleasure
he immerses himself in history
and wonders why he was born
in a time and place where he feels as if he does not belong

Sometimes I write just to write

other times I can't sit still,

my body becomes shaky,

and against my very own will,

I write down my most personal thoughts,

and figures,

and illustrate my fears,

and suddenly it triggers

a waterfall of bottled up tears.

Neither crystal water nor illusionary wine
(Just an appreciation of your might)
The venom of bitter potion
Of your gingery ignorance
Beating with ultrasound commotion
My heart is dressed up for nuisance
Neither hunger nor appetite
(Just an appreciation of your might)
The poison of your contemptuousness
Of your traditional taunts
Surfing with the fatal waves
My mind is now dressed up for the hilarious haunts
Neither stars nor moons
Just a ride
To my black holes..

Is there anything in the world  More utterly Tempting
Than un-popped bubble wrap?

It is a tragedy that being tragic
Has become so fashionable

Ahh
Another poem about the moon
Don't worry
It will be out of fashion soon