if you fell in love with my words
you couldn't even love me
for i am full of abandonment
       for myself

while falling asleep and practicing being vulnerable
she came across her doublest of entendres:
the stone cold ***** had already made amends
but kept her flatline on low-profile
as to not relive &
as to not regret
    (so to speak, so to forget...)  
the lowlife suffered a pay rise      
and her stomach turned on its head,
the secrets to the feelings between them
were only audible in the coziest of beds
the peeping tom has been baffled
by the mesmerised gazes of her trustworthy men
the unexpected loving family was,
   in fact,
all hers to present in the end.

i can't understand
how you'd rather be pink lemonade
inside a stranger's head
when you could be literal magma
coursing through my veins and
walking down my throat, baby.

it rose


slowly at first
as i took it in and marveled in its beauty, it changed
metamorphosis, they called it
heard the wind through the leaves in my back garden way before you noticed the storm coming


and then it was graceful
beautiful
everything i ever needed compressed into one tiny experience
am i reduced to only this?

if so, i am  
                  tiny (and
                                   meaningless)

have you ever
felt
tiny
whilst staring at the stars
2 AM rants in your brain told you to learn and watch and learn and listen

i guess i was too busy looking at them
and i didn't notice us crashing down

but the sun came up
and i may not have slept at all, but i sure as hell could see what would happen

so i stared, waiting for beauty, waiting for tragic endings to come, to define me, to become me
like i was in a movie

and in the end
all it did was burn

vulnerable naked goddess, my one and only temptress
the reflection of insecurity inspires the reflection of you in me
she turns the love ballad into a ****** message (and then it's again reversed)
it flows out of my aura like your odd ***** northern ways  
forever has been trampled one too many times
the timestamp on this union withstands the heated rendezvous of a million grandkids buried in the desert sands    
she'd just feel so lost without you  
(let's never go out of style)

pounding in my head
tired once, twice, third time tried again
dreading the nervousness of june august september and may
**** the gnomes by dumping our feelings in the ashtray

"if i could i would feel nothing, that's the truth and i don't care"
engraved in my brain
and i'm waiting for vultures to engrave onto my skin
i'm sick and tired of this sin
i'm waiting for someone to remove all this ****

my hair falls
in front of my
face

i cannot see whilst i write whilst i walk

turns out writing is easier than breathing, and cheaper too

inhale;
bite back on your thoughts.
swallow back the words
that taste vile.

exhale;
and suddenly, the flow does too.
and i forgot all my training.
two years of acting classes
down
the
drain.

an ad for a funeral home
outside a hospital

that's what they said.

immediately,
my mind closed the hatch
that i use
to peek, from time to time,
at the world around me.

silence followed
and my thoughts screamed loudly,
deafening in the stock-still void:
"but what if the only thing my voice is telling me to do is shut up?"

my fingers smell like
your absence
and there's no other way to
occupy my time
but this feeling of loneliness

how am i supposed to hang on to
something i can't even touch.
you threw a rope made out of thin air
and i'm begging for you to listen:
i'm suffocating in a wall
and i feel like you're starting to fall,
so please, for the mother of god,
forget all the nuisances i recounted
and focus on this simple task...
get
me
out of here.

a girl, laying down
on her stone cold bed
listens to quiet tappity taps
on the pastry roof over her head

she likes to dream, to conquer (and scream)
like in three girls & a cig walking,
she likes to stop, to think, to see
but her watch's-a-tickity-tocking

the compass of 16 brown cats' feet
are keeping her company, after all,
she lies in bed and dreams about
her neighbourhood flooding with blood

i know you don't want to hurt me
but baby,
sometimes you do

as three babies thought of the future,
in limbo three souls were put to rest.
why teach soul-economy to the young ones,
when we can blame them for everything instead?
remember the love that she gave you?
i'll want it back by the end of may.
dutifully unprepared to confront youth,
virtually ready for despair.

ahora ven y me explicas
el frío que hace en mi puta casa.

i just jumped into the firepit
to relieve the burns cascading of your shoulders
and you strutted off, with terrible excuses,
maybe searching for water.
but you left me there to swelter:
you forgot to take my hand and
pull me out of the flickering
hell i was thrown into.
even though i only jumped 'cause you where there.

self-destruction as the human brain's only hobby

my poems are getting messy
but at least i cleaned out my room
of used pillows and blankets and people and trinkets that i no longer needed
bare minimums, start over, again
like you've done a thousand times before

does the soul age with every person it consumes?
do we stay forever in this place if we preserve ourselves, by keeping around people from which we feed?
- parasites.

why am i so young
my brain has murdered
thousands
of
innocents
and washed the blood on my hands with liquid gold that solidified and made the never-leaving stains invisible to the human eye

beauty is in the eye of the beholder
so move on, nothing to see here

i am relentlessly
failing

nobody seems to
be willing to bear the weight
of the girl that scribbles poetry
on the back of her notebooks

my sister is sick with the flu
and i feel sick without you
whoever "you" may be

two strangers
stared
at each other

the light
seemed to focus
on everyone else
but somehow
their cat eyes met each other
in the dark

one stranger
stared at
two heartbeats
and sighed

in reliving golden memories
they came across one in particular
(it seemed to contract and disappear
only to grow stronger when the need
was present, as their fears)
of a rope being held, stretched across
the five-centimetre gap between both lovers' chests
******* have been cared for,
& loved & handled well
intertwined at the lower primal core
the youngsters would dance
to the sound of one's heart&soul
and the other's heart-lifting glance
into amber closets of the finest silks
[i-
lose myself in them.
in those golden memories...
during the golden hours of the day
i remember when you'd breathe by me]

espigas de trigo en sus pestañas;

ella es
aquel campo
al que te gusta ir
para ver la
puesta de
sol

if you're gonna send a dagger my way
make sure your shield is
Up To DATE
'cause i'm ******* at your attention ***** ways
and i'm ******* turning in my grave

my feather has been posed for far too long; ink has blotted all that i forgot
the opportunity to write has passed
and i'm left speechless in the absence
of all that was meaningful

a personal ovation for the ones
left fearless.
when you've suffered six minutes
plus twenty seconds in hell,
you've suffered enough to stand up
and scream at those who'd rather you sat down

BAN ALL PASSIVE BEHAVIOUR
THIS IS MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH
THE YOUTH HAS BECOME ACTIVIST AND REBELLIOUS
THE YOUTH HAS BECOME UNDEAD

Never
Respect
Armed men

who'd shoot (BAM BAM BAM)
upwards towards those who stand upon us,
or
the ones who scream mercilessly
WE WON'T SHUT UP.
this day of march we march for our lives
indignant and poignant,
rebellious and alive...
this fateful day of march we march for our lives,
because your guns aren't worth extinguishing the light in all our eyes.

i salute the girl walking
side by side with all the other cars
she attempted to salute back
but she vanished, elecricity sparks

and i'm left alone walking
down the side of the road
mental flashbacks remained
in a box, at the bottom of the ocean,  fingers tied in a knot

she is gone
but i'm still here
i might miss her comforting presence
but i will see her  
(soon)
my personal literary cliché
are all the ones that I (myself) made

from this place of desolation
i salute all the girls walking
side by side with all the other cars
and i scream "congratulations"
because they're still walking
and i should know that that's enough

i put something behind me.

or at least i thought i did;
because when i turned around,
with the intention of sticking my finger out,
i suddenly realized
that my throwing needed more practice
and that all i was putting behind me was
weighing down my back.

as i slowly exhale, they fall in front of me, ready to be picked up again.

i'm walking past life
like i'm driving through acid rain.
i'm going too fast
"i'll never be sixteen again"
and i'm forgetting all about the scenery
that sleeps on the other side of this timely window-sill.
but what am i to do?
i have to go solo, always without you.
parking for tourism would be the death of me,
staying overnight would get me a good night's sleep,
by which i mean i'd never ever breathe again.

i'm walking past life
like i'm driving through acid rain.

does it comfort or exasperate you
that every single thought you come across
has already popped up in an other person's head?



your life
         has already
         been lived
before

the blue skies won't fool me
the green grass can't use me
the far away mountains won't help me
and the cold river isn't freezing.

your strongest finger is stroking
the chords on your guitar
but your voice is struggling to
keep up with the melodies
your agile fingers have no trouble creating,
so i burst into song:
the pressure relieved the second i opened my mouth.

how can two strangers complement each other so well
when i can't even look into your eyes properly?

  all that is left is feral passion.

progress always looks tiny
until you turn back and stare at it, dead in the eye

the crystal palace by Paxton shatters
and with them, our pots&pans clatter

all clothed in black
all ready to knick-knack the lumberjack
not one body, hair, eyes; unknown
one body, one mind, one goal, one soul,
one damsel, three-headed, five traumas & a million foes
we are one and we are all
we’ll stay silenced, thus shout no more

abandon the tight hold of gravity
believe me, all of us are sacred-to-be
tied for forests, trees interrupt my fantasy
my high school lagoon reflects
what we’ve been craving so badly

intentions crystal clear
daylight savings time, saving us from paranoid suicidal minds
future plans and remakes of the past
carefully deposit them in a clear green vial of dust,
unbroken flask made out of dreamy hazy glass
as memories fade,
(this won't -ever-  happen to us)
making-of-my-wildest-dreams
lovingly embrace you & hold you in my arms

still, the daylight can't help but ask me why,
how we're supposed to never come apart
Destiny forgotten due to our childhood's screams:
Romeo and Juliet were prised apart by their mother's grin

now I'm done
questions asked, better left unanswered, better to forget instead
paranoid insomnia (no sleeping at night),
waiting to be forgotten
(even worse, will I forget?),
when the distance gets too heavy
when the drunk thoughts get too weary
when my feet hurt from running in circles
when you realise what you've done.

i hope you're all having a good day, i am very sorry im not active. i really have no idea why im like this ****

did i start losing myself when i started writing?

or did i start writing when i lost myself?

it's funny how i feared you giving up yourself completely to him and how empty you'd feel once he abandoned you and now you're pulling away and i can feel all the memories dying in my head. it's ironic how all my fears revolved around you but i'm the one feeling empty after another fruitless relationship seems to be ending and i'm left AGAIN with voices in my head saying "you shouldn't have", because i know i shouldn't have made exceptions to the one rule i swore would be mine.

but if he gets to apologize and if you get to forget everything and forgive, then i get another chance to say NEVER AGAIN.

different heartbeats
felt in different places.
resonate within
my eyes
my head
my wrists
my neck.

i have yet to discover what it means
and why i can't feel it
where it's supposed to be

the rythm flows nicely:
in & out, ballerina thighs;
magical and sultry, the only thing that i breathe,
grab at me desperately
(no time for human need).

today the soul has been nourished
and i've uncloaked myself to thee.
i lost something i had held on to,
but i'm so glad you lost it with me.
swirly figures in my mind's eye & bruises on weak knees.
pull me tighter,
(it's 6 am?)
but we still could go on for weeks

the freckles, snow drizzles and supernovas on your chest
have the same sole intention as me:
to leave a mark on your body & soul
so you can always feel me when there's need.

sleepless nights and
she's sobbing,
she's missing,
   she's coming back
and i'm staring.
i'm waiting
for you or something
   that seems to be happening
   tomorrow
(is bringing
   the sun,
'cause it's rising
   the birds
'cause they're chirping
and you're whispering
   that you've missed me
this evening).

maybe
we talk about
falling in love with someone's eyes
because
their eyes are
the key to finding what their souls hide

i
lost
              a
       poem

can't pronounce "low" without knowing what writing without words feels like