Actually scratch that.

I miss the things we planned to do,
The drives
The lunch dates
The lazy mornings watching movies
And how our just woken up tongues would taste.

I miss the memories I hoped to have,
But I guess you didn't think the same

I'm not quite sure what I said,
Why it all turned out this way
Or what caused you to leave me sitting alone in that park.

Maybe it was the alcohol,
Or maybe you were afraid of what might happen.

Either way.
When I looked down at you
That one lazy morning,
Right before you gave up on me,
I wanted you
With all my heart

But in your eyes I saw how apprehensive you were.
I saw the barbed wire around your tongue
And the metal fences behind your eyes I'm not strong enough to climb.

It doesn't help you kept building it higher.

So to make it simple.
When people ask me what's wrong
Because they see the bags you left under my eyes
Or the flesh you took that used to pad my ribs.
I remember how I came home smelling like you
Because we hadn't stopped touching each other for hours.

And I'll tell them,
I had a few late nights
Waiting for a friend to get home
So I knew they were safe.

If we are being honest
I know you will come home,
But I am not your home.
I tried,
I would have done close to anything to be

But I was too weak to climb your fenses
And I cut myself too many times on your sharp edges

If you hadn't left I would have let myself be cut to ribbons.

tonight
he is going to go drink himself to sleep
and I am going to lay here
with only my regret to keep me company.

Not that I care much for living.
Not that my lord is in heaven.
Not that my body is my prison.
Not that my heart is my liedge.

I am simply a wanderer
this is not more than a stage
act well to earn a living
and hide from yourself when you cry.
Look out for those who are wanderers
for they are your mates in this world
that may be the only to come.

Don't take my word as a Bible
for my lord is not in heaven
for I care not much for living

Is the nature of egoic fecundity
a reflection of human profundity?

Or is it just that we are blessed
with ourselves to be obsessed.

And thus to give no further thought
to all the wrongs we have wrought.

In spite of all the things we’re taught,
Even though the sacred we have sought
No peace of mind have we bought.

And no true purchase have we yet found,
Upon the steps of higher ground.
Hollow though this promise sounds.

Perhaps as humans we’re bound to see
if there’s a chance that we might be
Better than we thought we’d be.


© Copyright 2018 Robert C. Leung

Before you kiss someone for the first time,
Just wait.

Take a second to look at them.
They are so new and so unfamiliar.
Right now you don’t know how they taste,
How their hands will intertwine with yours,
How they’ll exhale after touching your bones.

You won’t see them like this ever again

Stare into their wanting -
the apprehension
budding inside their pupils -
they don’t know as well.
In their mind
you are uncharted territory as well.

Isn’t that special?

Keep it.
That’s how you’ll never lose them,
Or so I think.
Every so often after this moment,
look at them through these
soon to be ancient eyes.
Find this vision,
this exact dialect
of witness,
find these
pair of eyes

And don’t lose this wonder.
Don’t lose the spark.

For if you do,
The burns will leave you scared of the sun,
While the sunlight will still dance in their hair.

Even the universe is jealous of this moment, and will take this away from you in years to come,

Just know
If you are the forest fire
I will be the rainfall calming smoke scented winds.

Skin is delicate
But this story could be beautiful,
As we dive into the unknown.

- an excerpt from a book I’ll never have the courage to write

new shoes and late night blues
drinking ***** listenin' to views
getting 'dude' as a tattoo
i'm never getting over u

middle of may and it's all the same
life's a game that i can't play
im runnin' late at airport gates
i never thought i'd miss my plane

cigarettes and a hypocrite
white outfits that i regret
singing this to my little sis
won’t remember but can’t forget

warm beers and sudden tears
faced my fear after all these years
belvedere under a chandelier
as cold and sad as the atmosphere

blue lights on spotify
goodbyes and on my mind
getting high sippin' on wine
thinking ‘bout some stupid guy

I want to cry.

I dont know why.

My heart aches
my head hurts,
my body is tired,

and my thoughts have gone wild.

We have souls that are plunging off this planet,
in hopes they will be swallowed by the cosmos-
fearing the hurt is never ending,
leads to renovations of existence.

To silence the beating
of a heart,
to end a life.

Morality is stuck behind
the gates of purgatory

& society is too scared of
what will happen
if we use our mouths for
meaningful conversation.

Indeed.
A tourniquet can stop the bleeding,
but can’t do justice for spread of infection,
or the scar serving as a reminder.

People are dying from depression-
faulty chemistry in the brain.
As well as suicide.

It is the crying of phantoms,
never to be heard-
wanting change,
a re-birth,
of the contorted humanity
we proudly call ”life”

Ache that’s carried lifelong,
but never resolved.
Truthfully,
those vague questions

don’t save lives.

Death knows this,
of course.
He is an omniscient force
lingering in the scenery.
Possessing the inability
to tolerate the teasing
and the wagers.
Coming to collect early
because, we’ve begun
to shatter
every fragment
of light
life reflected.

Now,
Darkness makes him feel welcome
and entitled.

KRM