I no longer rest my eyes
catnap
slumber
or fall asleep
I crash into oblivion.

I am always the constant.
He is the little boy on the beach
Endlessly chasing after the same kite.
She is the wave
Always thrusting away from the shore.
I am always the constant.

He is the hitchhiker
Always running away and searching for answers.
Yet, I am always the constant.

A different boy.
He is the flirt on the street
Who always gives the runaround.
They are the countless numbers
Heartbreaking rebels without a cause.
He is the butterfly
Who has evolved into a beautiful person.
They are the mice
Walking blindly into the traps.
I am the constant.

I guess what I want to say is that sleeping alone never bothered me much
I thought I knew how to give myself over to someone
I thought I knew what it was like to feel wanted
I thought I knew what being broken felt like
I thought I knew everything before I met you.
I feel cheated because I never got the full chance to give you everything.
I try to chalk this all up to another experience in my life
Another stitch in the heart
Notch on the bedpost
The truth is that I left that seashell
As well as part of me that night
Thrown somewhere on your floor
In mad passion

One day down the line
I'll have someone to come home to
In the meantime
I'll come home to paper and a pen
I'll write down every moment that will lead to you.

I kept pretending
That I couldn't remember your name
So determined that you weren't
Worth the time of day
I guess it's a reflection
Of my own sorry self
Such pretentious invention
Of isolation's hell

Knowing it hasn’t a cure,
My madness
She lovingly endures.

Why can’t these lines liberate
or conflagrate, remonstrate
or set me straight like
like they had in the
midnight hour
That may never have happened?

I saw you in a dream,
with no torso upon your legs
and I cried myself awake
unable to remember what you said
minutes after the doctors ascertained
all those swollen lumps had spread.

Like a pen could sort the difference,
pin my quiet words, or even listen
to the high-speed pileup of a listless mind:
pull my teeth and ask me one more time
What has more power than insistence?

Because your hair had once insisted that
even a dive can hold a rhythm,
and every follicle leapt from your head, lying
“We are the makers of our decisions.”

for once i felt
i will be immortal
or maybe
live a thousand years
with him by my side,
holding hands,
having babies
together in misery
together forever.

that one invisible memory
BURNING
  BURNT

for once i felt
i shall reach the heights
where nobody could touch
i shall rock
i will smile
i shall travel
i will sigh
now the almost-next-to-impossible
dreams seem hard
because i'm not patient.
for i shall do harm
to myself
so the aspirations too
i watch them
BURNING

and so they are
finally
BURNT

all i am doing is
watching then burn
and they are all
now turning into
white ashes

white b'*** i will
not anymore metaphorise  them
to dark demons that
will someday rip me apart
and break me down
because i will someday
not let 'em get
burnt  anymore*


.....