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 Mar 2019 galaxy of myths
Wide awake in a room
swallowed by darkness,
my body is cloaked
with the haunting grasps
of a memory.

A recognition of a bruise,
though the damage is spectral,
the revival of the thought
hurts my corporal vessel.

Causing apparitions of a dark figure,
slowly emerging to my body.
trying to hold me as it envelops
its ghastly form.

It whispers words
that took long to forget,
blurring my mind
as images conspire around me,
rebirthed in the flames in which
i burned them to death.

Slowly, i weaken
until i am fully constricted,
giving in to the thought,
to the figure, to the memory.

Falling asleep.

Tt trying to st ay awak e   but
i  d rath errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr fall asleep
            t haan to be haunted
  for  theeeerest of the nig h  t                                     .
 Jan 2019 galaxy of myths
caress a ghost's hand to feel less lonely
undress her nightgown to feel her boney
structure and look into her eyes of ebony
what you cannot find within four walls
comes to you here, in your “baby doll”’s
presence, in waves of red light and calls
from people who prefer to think they missed
you but in reality theyve never felt rinsed
hands from blood that has stuck ever since
you raised them up high to struck a chord
in someones neck- only to feel a cheap sword
up your buttocks but not feel pain or sorrow.
written in march
 Jan 2019 galaxy of myths
Anam F
starts with a sob / echoes all around the room / eyes open, eyes close / a tiny hand, gripping a finger / the universe too small for it to hold  / is this what dying is? / the feeling of utter relief, utter finality / flowers growing in the crack between its fingers / the moon in its eyes / never forget / always remember this / but the image is already slipping away /

this is you, eyes burning / a door slam, sound of crying, a broken picture frame / was this the reward? / for the months of waiting / the agonizing years / the ghost of what you were / you were told / they are never grateful / they eat your food, break your heart / but they come back, one day / one day, they come back / will yours ever look back? /

so you wait, and you wait, and you wait / swallow the screams / cage the anger / set it free / hoard the hope / your pandora’s box / take the bet / invest your soul, your spirit / you’ll win it back one day / you make the lunches / wave goodbye with a smile / laugh at the door slams, the eye rolls, the sullen face / you believe, and you believe, and you believe /

you are as you are one day / they come in, silent as a thought / you wait for it, hope dancing in your lungs / the floodgates open / the apologies are spilled out, mouth full of shame and spit / joy is prickling at the corners of your eyes / the lanky arms hug you, pressing years of memories back into your heart  / flashback to the very first day, the very first words / “I love you” / you think, this is the first time you have exhaled in a long, long time /
 Jan 2019 galaxy of myths
How wonderful it is, I say, to the retreating
yellow form of your feelings I mistook
For Infatuation, you’re a romance heckler
far and far away from
Accepting fruition within classrooms and
being labelled as an angel.
And it was within forbidden hell of
euphoria, I found
You nestled in the society’s psyche
neither content or calling
For help. Neither did you neglect the
pink spectacles of the society,
Even found yourself moulding and moulding
into a fungi green
That I could not recognize, within that
half-sanctum, half-oasis I found you
Bathing in, you were already out of
its waters.
And I was no longer seeing you within
the dry desert or the sibilance
of my desires, but instead
in cement woodlands and
Within artificial communication and
Intimacy I gave willingly.
Now how does it feel, to have your
heart in one piece,
How does it feel to not use
whipped cream to fill in the
Cracked, salty sections of your
own ***** that,
Out of confusion, continues to
play its favorite song but
in all the wrong beats.
Somehow within cacophony I found
you, nestled, comfortable in
Bogus, fraudulent wings of a former
angel- who now weeps under our
Feet in theory- Somehow, somewhere,
I lost you within an epiphany
That reeked of bliss and pleasure-
Somehow, we end up losing
Twins of the heavens when all is well.
How wonderful.
How wonderful it is, I say, to your
lost, secretly-weeping figure
That I can’t tell whether transparent or
yellow your figure is.
But I keep speaking-
“Oh, how (falsely) wonderful it is-
To love the first angel I’ve set
my eyes upon-
“Oh, how (falsely) wonderful it is-
To lose an angel, no matter how
phoney, to a social heaven.”

- enriko. aug 5. 11:45pm
 Jan 2019 galaxy of myths
i shoot this bandaid into the hole through your head
it leaves a mark, a hole. makes you like a window
without glass. there is no blood
and therefore, no medical is needed.
but you tell me that that bandaid hurt and that a bullet
would have said more in blood and in sound
and would have been better.
i tell you there is no such thing as the pain you describe.
i say until i see a lock of your hair in my locker dipped in
your own blood dye, you are as alive as all of us are.
but the day comes when the sun is not as prevalent
and the moon is silent and becomes an abandonning mother,
and you do not give me your black hair in blood.
by morning we see the oceans love you,
give you the tenderness you wanted, give you
words of encouragement and a welcoming into
their community.
by morning we see the oceans be your actual mother.
we see your hole filled with water never to be empty
for we do not dig you a grave, especially when the sand
themselves tuck you into the river bed.
by night, we realize our beds could have been a
potential place of comfort to you.
by next year, the world forgets your name was once
dipped in ink the same way you are dipped in water and blood.
my locker stays unlocked, in disbelief.
by adulthood, i wish to go swimming with you.
I want to tell you that I love you
but it feels almost insulting to us,
as we have discovered a feeling
that is new and uncharted;
something that far surpasses
the conventional and widely known
concept and notion of just “love.”
We have created a new word,
a new feeling, a new experience,
a new connection,
a new world that’s all our own.

The word love;
it just doesn’t do this justice,
as when I first met you I realized
the reason the sun rises and sets.
It rises to compete with your beauty,
your natural radiance, your light
and your warmth.
When it sets, it gives up;
desperately craving rest as it
spent many hours trying to outshine you, which nothing in this world could ever hope to do.
At very best it could try to match your breathtaking sight,
but still it sets every single day, because it could never even come close to your effortless luminescence.
My darling, you have exhausted the sun,
a basic necessity for all life to grow,
and the centre of our known universe.
But to me, you are what causes growth, you sustain all life,
and you have me spinning in circles
in your gravitational pull;
twenty-four seven, three sixty-five.

It sounds cliche,
but the moment I saw you everything both stopped and started.
My heart stopped,
my breath stopped,
even time stopped.
But my soul was birthed,
my mind was resurrected
and then, my heart was revived.
Within a split second I felt everything; all at once.
Everything in this world suddenly made sense,
I found the puzzle piece to the incomplete picture I had decided to settle with,
I discovered an ***** I never knew existed, but now that ***** is so vital, I could never live without it.
I became a new person that day:
I was finally made complete.
I never knew what happiness was,
but that day I basked in.
I inhaled as much as I could,
even if it would drown me,
because I was absolutely terrified
and paralyzed with the fear
that I would never know that feeling again.

You’re my first thought when I awake,
picking up where I left off the night before,
and you sneak your way into my head all throughout the day.
No matter how close you are to me,
you will always be too far.
It’s frustrating to have two hearts and two souls so intertwined and locked,
that the barrier of our bodies almost feel like a nuisance
as they create a thin wall separating them from meeting
and melting together as they should.

If I could list off my biggest accomplishment,
it would be any time I was the provider of your smile.
If I could list off my favourite hobby,
it would be the times I make you laugh.
If I could do one thing
and only one thing for the entirety of my life,
it would be to look into your eyes
and listen to your sweet voice;
it always leaves me so intoxicated.
And if I was given the choice;
see you hurt or be gun down with a barrage of bullets;
I would tell the firing squad to start loading their guns.
I would die for you; without hesitation.
But the more impressive thing,
I think, is that I live for you,
even though it hurts so badly some days.
Pain goes hand in hand with love,
but it is also tantamount to it.

So you see, I want to tell you that I love you,
every single second of every single day for the rest of my life,
but the words are just words,
and no words, no matter how descriptive or beautiful or powerful,
could ever fully articulate what I feel.
Just know that I am yours,
even when you doubt that I am.
I love knowing what red feels like
How painful blue can be
The sting of green
Even the bitterness of jet black

I love myself on days of lilac
And question myself on nights of turquoise
But I can't visualize this empty
My heart hurts
Nights like these reminds me of when we'd sleep together
Naked and cold, but together under the softness of our sheets.
I've always liked the cold but it seems to alays bite my skin.
The cold creeping up my skin as your hands chase them away.
Your hands that seems to have mapped me out months ago,
Roamed the entire surface of my body as I'm pressed against you.
Hands that can be as light and gentle as you ghost them over my neck
Hands that can leave the darkest bruises on my hips after they went.
Hands that were pressed against my back as were tangled up under the sheet.
Hands that cards throught my hair when we kiss till our bodies lay quiet in our sleep.

Hands that are now miles away from where im lying down, cold, under the sheets.
Hands that I've grown used to that now has me wanting, still waiting for it.

it turns out that I dont like the cold
Never had
Never will

My brain had just adjusted to the pattern that the cold nights would mean your warm hands would be back on my skin.
And it is a pattern. It was, I should say.
Because I never had to face a cold night alone
Until the night before this day.
wrote this on june 11 2018 and i only had the guts to post it now
its about me literally being a ******* and missing my ex when i've gone about a month of forgetting him
im a meess so yeah
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