(I)
a(l)most said it
but I
f(o)und
m(y)self
fa(v)(o)(u)ring  
a blunt pencil,
and a
burning
pap(e)r
instead

I had a wish once
I wanted them to feel
when I wrote

I wanted to watch them react
to every high and depressing low

I wanted them to place their hands
on their chests, embracing their hearts
with security, as mine shattered on paper

I wanted them to giggle and laugh
as mine danced between the lines

I wanted them to take a deep breath
as I dove from the first line
into love and all its forms

I wanted them to know
that there's a world out there
on paper, in pencil, in pen
even typed
that they have
no clue about

I wanted them to yearn
for more
for no full stops for more flow
for more plots between him and her
sometimes between the sheets
or even dancing in the galaxies

I wanted them to
to
want

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

The basics of basics
base themselves
in the base
of one's
self
you
can't
take the
basics out of the base

I have fallen
for the mess
of things
for surprises
have always
been my
weakness

The shutters
                      let
                       in
                        l
                       i
                      n
                     e
                    s
                    o
                      f
                        l
                         i
                          g
                           h
                            t
                            t
                             o
                              t
                              r
                              a
                              c
                             e
                            y
                           o
                          u
                           r
                           o
                            w
                              n
                               p
                                o
                                 e
                                  m

Checking in
to weigh in
the weight
of years
waiting
to burn
off

The day
you make a decision
that convinces
every cell in your body
is the day darling
you defy gravity
and walk
on clouds of
content

Waiting for the sun
to line the cusp of dawn
wetting the cigarette path
that has ashed my throat
with the last sip of yesterday
I saw my tomorrow
sugarcoated with a hangover
and sprinkled with reality

I am still alive

Drunk
left me
in a bed
shared
with the bottle
blacked out
from all
the moments
that did not
make it to
memories

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

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

It slapped me
so hard
that it shook
the darkness
out of my sadness
and the apathy
out of my routine

It slapped me
so hard
that it awoke me
from my nightmares
and took me to daydreams
that float outside my
window fabricating
fantasies only to
entertain my
mind on a boring
afternoon

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

What's happening to you?
Your face blushes
making red roses jealous of your hue

What's happening to you?
You start shaking like a leaf in autumn
weightless and easily moved

What's happening to you?
You never look him in the eye
for fear of being to obvious

What's happening to you?
A single hello makes you curl
like a shy teenager on the verge of experiencing
"emotions"

What's happening to you?
Your old enough to have mastered such things
Your the maestro of your own heartbeats
but there's something different

What's happening to you?
Your shell has hardened enough
to be affected by butterflies
inside and all around

What's happening to you?
are
you
feeling
again?

What's in a title
but a taste of what's to come
what's in the first word
that lurked in the writer's mind
followed by a flood
of words

What's in the first glance
at the capital letter resting above all
but a rush of curiosity
to dissect the ideas later

What's in the boldness of it
but the courage to stand tall
and heavy with the bulk of the story

What's in the thought behind it all
but a chaotic idea
brought
to balance the tumultuous
ramblings
of a scared mind
only alive
under a title
in bold and capital

It's not the time
it's the toll

I suddenly awoke from hypnosis
my eyes no longer dilate
at your sight
but my
mind expands when my thoughts
sneak out to dance with the idea of you
in the middle of the night on a white sheet
with ***** lead shoes writing the story of
what my heart wanted, my mind thought
and poetry yearned for

Find what you can't express
and pin it down in words

Find what you can't see
and fabricate it in fantasies

Find what you can't feel
and embody it in adventures

Find what you can't speak
and let your eyes vocalize

Find what you "can't"
and challenge yourself

Find what you "never"
and take it a step further

When there's so much
love locked in my ribcage
I only wish God
grants mercy
to those who shall receive it

For my tsunami of emotions
will shake
the loneliest of islands
an earthquake of beats
will beat life into the lifeless
and love.. oh love
will melt the
frost off
your
chest
and
the
dust
off
your
smile

Blah, I just want to eat your brain
and experience
what's it like to think with
your thoughts
feel with your feelings
and see with your sight

Grrr, I want to kiss with your tongue
and feel hers, warm and ***** flavored
with a hint of cranberry
Yum, I can already taste it baby

Breathes, I want to exhale
smoke with your lungs
tinted and abused,
over used yet they never
refused working

******, I want to grab her waist
with your arms
and slide them down to her hip bones
and sway her with those beats
that she loves so freaking much

Oh, I want to mess her hair
with your fingers and feel every strand
as it leaves the tips of them
magically numb

Gahd, I want to see through your eyes
and paint my very own masterpiece of her
see what you see, and see it well
"Hey", I want to vocalize
all that's in my mind
and lull her to my arms

I sought you in heartbreak
I sought you behind doors
I even sought you alone
in the dark where my
candle light shone

I sought you in my hell
I sought in my heaven
I even sought you
when I mentally traveled

I sought you for therapy
I sought you for peace
I sought you when no drugs
could bring any ease

I sought you in times of anger
I sought you in times of love
I sought you when battles twisted
my tongue with wars
that were not worth of

I sought you in my sleep
I sought you in dreams
I sought you with pens and pencils
aching to fabricate futures
that exist in my mind
where they fixture

I sought you drunk
oh, I did
I created love stories
fantasies, tragedies too
even some ***** thoughts
that my mind could not endure

I sought you in confusion
hoping as stanzas flow
so will the solutions too

I sought you in prayer
on paper, on walls
on my palms too
so that when I lay my hand on my chest
my heart could read them
and beat in rest ...

I sought you in others
prodigies and peasants
I sought you in twisted art
and wordy inspirations

I sought you boring afternoons
and rowdy dancing
I sought you in my memory
hoping you'd stay
and make it to my paper

I sought you in song
I sought you in blank papers
I sought in 4 am's
when my mind is diluted with chemicals
that danced with every idea
every thought
before it flees with dawn

I sought you in him and her
I sought you in messy bedsheets
and crisp bright dawns
when my skin crawled
with goosebumps
reminiscing about
yesternight’s
escapades

I am not tempted
I willingly choose
I am not sinning
I am committing
I am not hiding
I am exhibiting
I am not wrong doing
I am rightly living
then why
classify
who does what?

I looked in the mirror
I nodded at the inevitable of what I see
my skin stamped with judgements
my hair braided with musts
and my eyes glazed
with how comes

WHY?

For once
I'd like to see
your world
for mine
is already
naked
in pages
in front
of
your
eyes

Come with  me
and I'll show you a world of possibilities
I'll just take off your glasses
and the let the sun kiss your eyes
refreshing your sight

Come with
and I'll mend your heart
with honey to sweeten each crack
changing your hatred to sweet nostalgia

Come with me
and I'll paint a pure reflection
that'll amplify your imperfections
that'll highlight the flaws
and portray a new vision of beauty

Come with me
and I'll hold your hand
through the world that you already abhor

Come with me
and we will pin the clouds to our
feet and float weightlessly
carelessly

Come with me
and we'll discover a planet
where society has not yet tarnished
all forms of cliche

Come with me
and we'll write novels
on city walls
narrating stories that will bring people together
or tear them apart

Come with me
and we'll show them
how beautiful it is to dance
with no wrongs or rights
just mere human elation

Come with me and
we will hop from one star
to the other, exploring each
bright possibility

Come with me
and I'll show you
what you don't see

come
with
me

I looked up
at the sky
only to see
my heart
migrating
with
the birds

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

The stars
grew heavy
from the wishes
that they carried

Until one starry night
they rained
on me
giving me
a sky of
shooting
stars

If you took a stroll
inside my heart
you'd feel
an earthquake
every time
it beats
echoing
his
name

Every sigh
stitched itself
to the stars
that looked down on us
during those
sleepless nights
Wondering if
we were wondering
about them and their
promises to our wishes

Do not let them confine you
your words and guidelines clash
like enemies

Do not let them lead you
your words are as stubborn as a taurus
with the head of an aries

Do not let them **** you
your words can revive characters
that their ancestors encounters

Do not let them stress you
your words defeat the greatest of antidepressants
making prozac seem like candy

Do not let them attack you
your words shield their insults
leaving your core pure and true

Do not let them defeat you
your words are yours and yours alone
understanding is their problem

Do not simply do not give in
your words are your own
the worlds your create are your own
rules, no rules, chaos and mess
guidelines or no guidelines
the perk of being a writer
is that head of theirs
that rests on their shoulders
harnesses worlds, characters
lives, lovers, spirits
yearning to
taste paper
feel ink
and
be discovered

The birds chirped
differently today
the wind smelled like change

The roads seemed smoother
the sun a bit warmer
and my hair
curlier

The music beat in synch
with my feet
as they stomped their
way on the pavement
vibrating life into
the concrete that has
memorized my feet

Could it be that I have
found the pace
that's written for me?

Or could my words
have stitched themselves
into my reality
fabricating bits and pieces
of my fantasy
to suit me?

I have exhausted my muses
till they ****** the life
out of my hands
and tortured
me with
bottled
thoughts
left inside
me

It's easier
written
than said!

It goes beyond saying
that there is nothing
more liberating
than the moment
the story-filled
tip of my pencil
touches the soft
surface of an innocent  
white paper