i’m typing this
as i’m waiting for you to get back
from the bathroom.
in the starbucks
cozy acoustic music is playing
and your mocha frappucino
half empty
is on the table in front of me.
your lips have touched the lid
and i don’t want to be
that person
but i wonder.
i wonder how it feels
does it know that it’s lucky.
can it tell me its secrets
how does it do that?
get you to open up
and let inside the warmth?
i’m not jealous.
just curious.

you should be back any second now.
you might walk out
back to our cliche little table
and ask me
what i’m doing
what i’m typing so furiously
what i’m so passionate about.
i will want to say you.
i love you
right here right now right time right place
i won’t though

maybe i’ll say
“i forgot to finish this paper
that’s due at 11:59 tonight”
or maybe i’ll say
“i just got an urgent email
about my political science class tomorrow”
or maybe i’ll say
“an old elementary school friend
just sent me a Facebook message
and i need to reply”

or.
or maybe i’ll say
“nothing.
nothing more important than our coffee.”
maybe i’ll just close my laptop
mid-sentence
because it’s true.

nothing is more importa

the sky was a placid blue and the resplendent morning light enveloped the world in a golden bliss. and yet it felt as though the warmth of the sun could not quite reach me; the natural beauty of the earth unfolded before me as if to mock at my unhappiness and somehow left me feeling all the more empty. i longed for it to rain

Nothing could disturb her stare at the wall,
Everyday, from dawn to night fall.
Motionless she sat, on a rocking chair,
Creaky now, and worn with wear.

Contemplating someone’s return,
Whose identity is her only concern.
Whether the Phantom,
Is still as she might fathom,

Or her imagination run wild,
She cared for me as a child.
Soon, into the past she’ll descend,
Eyes searching, as if to defend.

If not for the daily answering of nature’s call,
An artistic statuette carved in fall,
Sits gazing at nothing in particular,
Some say she looks pretty angular.

Enfin, family is family,
My Aunt, she’ll be for posterity.

Remember
When we were kids
And a planetarium
Was a most wonderful place
Everyone simply obsessed
With outer space.
It was strange
And new
And beautiful
It was full of wonder
As was everything
A galaxy of stars
And empty space
We were flying through it all
To a new planet
For us to discover
Floating towards the future
It was like a dream
But as we grow up
We realize
Falling stars are chunks of ice and rock
Not wishes
And stars and the sun
Are ***** of flaming gas
The wonder fades
And you realize
Outer space
Would truly be a lonely place
Alone out there
But I guess it would still better
Than here
And you yearn
For that wonder to come back
But even if it would
Someone would take it away
They always do.
Growing up is sudden
And shocking
And changes you
Forever
And you wish you could go back
To planetariums
And outer space
But you can't.
We are all stars
***** of fire
That will eventually die out.
But some of us are falling
And hoping someone will catch us.

wraith of white
you wander wild
the hinterland
Valkyrie's child

your breath pants mist
in icy caves
you have made
10, 000 graves

your image is
in winter skies
its crystal glitters
in your eyes

loping through
the cold chill wood
its secrets you
have understood

born to lead
long of fang
through the glaciers
your voice rang

lonely in your Lycan heart
you made the ****
your kindest art

wolf of legend
wolf of lore
you'll reign untamed

forevermore


soulsurvivor
(C) 2/16/2014
Rewritten 6/12/2015

drift unto

      the seamless abyss


             stars beneath your feet




      grass on your finger tips




                 head heavy




      body light




                                 here today




   gone tonight.


too much

   too soon


      


         nothing to take


               everything to lose.



  
                        I can't ask



                             could never tell you


              so



    goodbye sun,



                hello moon.

kaleidoscoping thoughts rotate
patterns change, colours migrate
hard as I try, I
cannot escape-
the penitentiary that is my own
headspace.


I could walk tens of miles,
run thousands of feet
fly forever with angel wings
and dive to the deepest
depths of the sea.


from time to time
when I can't even stand
to be around me,
I put my pink matter
on my bedside shelf
and leave,


for I have better things,
to do with myself
then worry about

I,
myself
& me.

too much

           too soon.

  



        She burnt the trees-
and spent the moon


                        now her little
                    life is full of gloom



    too much,

too soon.