The story
writes
the writer

If I see it
then it is

If I hear it
then it is

If I taste it
then it is

If I read it
then it's
a different
story

Fall in love with a writer
they say and you will never die (quoted)

Fall in love with a writer
they say and you will find yourself
embodied in words

Fall in love with a writer
they say and you will find yourself
stretched over lines and pages

Now,

What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their untamed mind
becomes an asylum where
words smash themselves
on the walls of their brains
summoning
their hands just
to let them out

What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their addiction
to falling in love is amplified
and when they love
OH THEY LOVE,
they get a certain high
that numbs their inhibitions to reality
and shuns logic to a very far away land

they  reach a mental state
that lifts you to high enough
just to see a glimpse of their world
just to taste a drop of their
potion
but not all of it

What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their eye *****
birth and harness flames that burn the coldest
of hearts and warm the strongest
of selves

What if a writer falls in love with you?
What happens is that their mind soaks up
every bit, every breath
every call, every cell
every touch, every talk
just to embroider it
in the quilt of thought
that's weaving endless stories about you
in their mind

What if a writer falls in love with you?
God have mercy on their soul
for their craving becomes dangerously
intensified, wrapping itself
to their muses,
giving them the sole purpose
of existing

For the more they love
the more stories they write
and more they feel
the longer
they
live

You pierce my brain with worry
my body wants to close the shutters
to block your morning light

You inject me with responsibility
making me ache for childhood and loose youth
that was full of simple duties

You slap the "wake up" on my
lazy weekend face
causing me to feel the pain of facing the world

You dear Monday
are one hell of a *******

For once
he asked the sun to set
to bring his own

For once,
He strummed her heartstrings
and turned her into a hymn

For once,
He dawned on her with
new colors, she couldn’t believe existed

For once,
She melted at the sight
Of a smile … a specific smile
Too beautiful for poets to describe

For once... this might turn
into
“a while”

You walked in
a pool of sharks
knowing where the good fish is
and the plankton floats

You were floating in
a great ocean of possibilities
some so foreign, your eyes dilated
some so familiar you felt elated

You slid next to great whales of knowledge
and shook the tentacles with wise octopi
with strands of experience

You got bitten by piranhas of isolation
and even bled internally from bumping shoulders
with beautiful heartless corals

Then one day you met a seashell and her friend
you marveled at the intricate art of nature
and became friends
this time you had the courage to knock

Not all hard exteriors
reflect tough
personalities

You just
had to
knock

She's a gemini in her wit
an aries at heart,
a taurus at rationale
a scorpio at defence,
a Virgo at ease,
and a cancer at care.

She's June in January
and Christmas in August.
She's spring in rain
and snowflakes in heatwaves.

Morning dew in drought
and rays on cloudy days.

She's Jessica.

I surrendered my senses
to every word
that left your mouth
and landed
on my lips
silencing
all sense
of doubt

Time you *******
you robbed me
from my youth
and sped
too fast through my todays
-
my now is too short
my past is too blurry
my future.. too ..
now...
-

Someday
maybe one day, he says
I'll strum the strings of time
to echo vibrations from someday
till today

Someday
maybe one day, he says
I'll rearrange the stars
to spell "yes, they are!"
because it's truly bizarre

Someday
maybe one day, he says
I'll ask the moon how he copes
with the sun, every time he rises
and she sets

Someday
maybe one day, he says
I'll get the jar of wishes
and plant them in all of
my today's, my everyday's

Someday
maybe one day, he says
I'll lie on your side
and listen to memories of your breaths
and let them carry me into
deep slumber

Someday
maybe one day, he says
this roof will expand
to meet the ends of the earth
to be big enough to fit all our dreams

Someday
maybe one day, he says
I'll erase all dark days
and force the sun to rise
to new better days

Someday
maybe one day, he says
will be
"the day"

When your
heart beats
in a series of code
that your mind
has yet to
decipher
praise your gods
darling
for you're
evolving

I took a step back
a kiss back
a stare back
a laugh
back
dna
I
dnuof
flesym
a gniod
etelpmoc
elcric

Tuesday night was always dull
however this one was oddly full
of events from 6 to 1

I don't know what happens
but suddenly alcohol sharpens
all your inner untamed inhibitions

Why is it so?
That when I am with you at night
I am always hit by delight

You're there and I am here
and so is she
but there is a certain kind of comfort
that elevates me to feel to resort
to what "us" is

That meaning that floats
over seas of oblivion
over mountains of stupor
over valleys of friendship
for the lack of a better word

Here, order me another drink
and let me drown
whatever makes sense
tonight

You made it
onto my paper
from
in between my ribs
to
in between my lines
&
all I can do
is sharpen my pencil
every time
I reach the end
of each stanza

Why not.
Not why.

It's the kind of heartbeat
that pushes you forward

Elegance
em(b)odied
by natur(e)
(a)stonishes
the so(u)l
of every
s(t)anding
e(y)e

The words fall short
of their meaning
the one beyond the read

The lines weaken
and leave the reader
with a sense of boredom

The heartbeat
only in that cage
and fails to bleed
on pages

The papers
become satiated
with empty ink
lacking quality

The poet
loses him/her/them self/ves
in that limbo
between
head
and heart
running on a treadmill
trying to catch the fleeting muses

The poet dilutes
in reality
his/her/their greatest
fear
for that is
what they
try to escape
in every
poem

"Let's" she said
as she walked into
a play ground
of timeless
unknowns
&
Him

I misread
a lot of you's
I proofread most of your mistakes
you ****** at grammar

I silently made my red pen dance
on your blue inscriptions
that you thought
were unique

I scratched the wrong words
I indented your run on's
I even added a bit of sincerity  
to all your reality

I stepped back and looked at you
you were blotches of red on scribbles of blue
you were a mistake
that I thought I could fix
at the end of the day,
I took that paper crumpled it
and aimed at the trash
and scored

My red pen yearned for correcting many more
but my red pen gave up scratching
and wanted to create its own story
of its very own mistakes
of its own doing,
so it can create a masterpiece of
"me"

There is one time
a discovery hit me
like sunshine

It was as clear as day
when there was no way
it could easily by me, sway

My posture straightened
and my senses heightened
"why didn't I do this before?"
Oh, because I always saw it as a chore

But what defines a task
when all you've done was remove the cast
that was rotting your insides
piece by piece watching your aura subside

When all you had to do
was give your routine a cocktail shake
by being as unique as a snowflake

By posing those thoughts
naked and raw
with all their flaws

It's just as simple as the verb "be"
with all its complexities
making it even more
****

My niece
made me bangle
of letters, stars, unicorns|
and colored beads

Then it hit me
that's her poem to me
a set of random things
that sit beautifully
side by side
around in a circle

and I noticed that
that's the first time
someone wrote
a poem
about
me

You strummed my chords
and played the song of lust
my body complied
controlled my being
moans and such
you held me yesterday
stretched me
cupped my neck
rested your fingers
on my lips
you strummed
and slid the rest
up and down my frets
I feared no more
my body jolted
with the thunder outside
as he strummed my delicate lips
down there
tears wet his fingers
it wasn't the song of lust
no more
it was different
he was clueless
that tonight
he was playing
the blues
instead

I got stuck
in a plot
                                        t
w
                              i                    
                                                s
                  t

and it made
me

A) Dizzy
B)  Sick
C) Light-headed
D) Aware

............(Answer)..............

She sang the song
of winter
and my
my cheeks turned red
like autumn leaves
my heart
warmed up like summer
and my eyes bloomed
like spring

Dragging a bad situation
is like being stabbed in the middle of your collar bones
and slowly sliding it down your chest...

I found myself wasted
literally
I was outward and true
I was fearless and sometimes blue

I found myself wasted
consumed by my favorite drink
happy I am able to click

I found myself wasted
befriending everyone
oblivious to their intentions

I found myself wasted
wasting..no not wasting
enjoying the night

I found myself wasted
I wish everyone
can be wasted
so they can
remove
that ugly
facade
that
keeps you
from
me

My darling
I have placed
all my cards
on the table
with my heart
all in
it's up to you
to take the risk
bet, flip and see
if you win
a full house
with me

They told me
"Your new lover
will make you forget
your last"

What they did not tell me
is that
this one
will make me
forget
myself

You dot the i's
and call yourself  
modern day romeo
coming to sweep me off my feet
coming to zap my heart
with lightening bolts
of awareness
awareness of you

Yet you never once
told me a poem
melted my heart with haiku's
or moved me with impossibilities

Never once has it occurred to you
that capulets and montagues don't click
because you always had your way
you're a modern day romeo
full of narcissistic poison
melting off your logic
revealing every chiseled muscle
that you think
will make your Juliets
melt

Oh romeo, romeo
where for art thou?
Show these modern newbies
the ways of articulation
the ways of seducing without the flesh
the ways of making eyes glow

oh romeo,
where for art thou
for the romance
I seek
is long
forgotten

I read my horoscope
each morning
thinking I have a glimpse
into the future

Little did I know
that stories change
when the writer
does

Pensive Roses
are louder
than
CAPS
in
P(rose)

She's angry boys
looks like we're burning fast
"lighter noise"

There goes Larry
he was always toasty
and with that drink,
I think it's a beautiful death

Here we go
into the purse
I wonder, where she'd forget us this time
or if we'll soak up her drunken
thoughts

It's 5 am, have some mercy on your lungs!
Oh, I am the last one
struggling to stand up straight
in that crumpled pack
half awake, half dead,
swinging between sleeplessness
and drunkenness

I welcome my fate
I want to dilute in her breath
I want to kiss her with sunrise
I wish I my nicotine would mend her thoughts
I wish my filter, would cleanse
that stress
I want her to exhale cremated
bits and pieces of me
with the crisp breeze of dawn

Alas, I am burning
along with her awareness
along with her energy
she kisses me
one last time
I burn
I burned
along with
her night
Oh,
I burned

He blew me a kiss
that blew my muses
        n                    a                 e               f                   h   o
i                    o                 s                 o          e        p            r                aaaaa
         ­       t                                   a                     u                           i

For what's a glow but a holy light?

Oh Darling,
Get ready,
I think
I found
my
self

“In sickness and in health
till death do us part”

She exploded in my heart
threw me off my feet

Across a living room filled
with nights only she can host

I spoke of her to those across the world
who will never experience what it is
to fall for a city
it is beyond patriotism
this ineffable love for a sleepless phenomenon
who homes strangers
shook the world
with shockwaves
that equaled the chemical imbalance
its people have for their city

Under the debris of sparkling glass
she was broken  
there’s so much she can withstand
even when we always stand by her side
shards engrave themselves under thick skin
poking at the body that still believes in love at first breath

At a heart that does not know how to stop
At a will-power that questions its creator about its strength
At a body that homes an identity beyond this world
alien to it

toxicity hovered in lungs

And across skies
blushing clouds
turning them pink

Sunset wasn’t serene

The ocean cradled bodies

on their way to the afterlife

They cried salty tears


Fed up.

Her soil has felt the stomping anger of grieving mothers, fathers, husbands
families
the last words of suffocating victims who never lost hope till

The angels opened the doors of the sky

To welcome new brave souls into the heavens
to lead by example
their white coffins
wed the earth with the skies
they watch over us

Brooms brushed her face
Hands held others
Homes homed
Revolutionists revolted
Nooses were hung
judgment day is knocking
at our hearts
and mind you, we are known
for our hospitality

She cannot cry

She never did

It never suited her

But she sure knows how to roar
how to devour
parasites feeding at her immortality

I wear your ring around my finger

“In sickness and in health
till nothing does us part”

Indifference
is the key
I always
lose

There are
7 different types
of love
elaborated by
the heart's
7 different
beats, decoding
7 different languages
that the mind
meddles with