you hated poems so much that you
became one, sweetheart
(tell me, does this suit your tastes?have i gone too far?)
i tried to write a love poem and it turned into a suicide note that doesnt belong to me
i guess you didnt find it romantic when i called you carrotseed,
when i pined so much that i turned my love into a grove of trees
you make comparisons between me and natural disasters like it's a habit you can't get rid of
but there's nothing natural about the way my heart beats when i see you
baby, your eyes have never looked better

You taught me to have coffee without sugar.
Only now do I understand what that means.
Bitter lover.

yesterday's pain
could be tomorrow's
grace.

You just have to
wake up and find-out
for yourself.

~

Balmy breezes capture me,
though struggle I’ll not feed,
sifting on the glowing rays beyond the heather hedge,
walking barefoot,
senses fly,
lemonade the tint…
born upon this early morning sky

Lantana lullabies,
still a faint offering,
relinquish me of moon fed destinies,
setting me free once more
in the golden sheen of the pristine
sunflower sunrise

Soft, a haze does find me in a sphere of intoxicated dreams
swirling about this blue canopy,
this euphoric frame bordering
the tapestries of nature’s happiness

On this day wings sprout,
gossamer in saffron flow
from shoulders soft and bliss divine,
perfect of a vision I do long
to harbor near

For in my eyes again reflects your beauty
and I touch you…
Your smile finds my heart
as I breath in the majesty of my desires,
thanking the heavens once more
for my blessings

That night, I stared at the night sky,
Soaked up the stars
Enough to form constellations of my own
And named them after you.

That is the thing about stars,
The more you look
The more you find.
Scars, alike.

Though, I am a novice
In the realm of
Pain and suffering,
I have already understood
The difference between
Papercuts and broken hearts
Chaining souls and holding hands
Flying paper airplanes and shooting darts
Abandonment and negligence.

And for once,
I want to believe in afterlives,
Wishing on shooting stars that are
Confused with fireflies,
If only it was as simple as
The art behind tracing your lips,
Falling asleep to the rhythm of your breath,
Your glinting eyes floating in pools of bliss.

But, we are more than music.
A noise
That beats in our ears;
A scream
That burns our throats.
Of Shattered vintage vases,
Wrecked ships
And sinking boats.