I guess I’ll go back
to being cold and alone.
At least I had the privilege of
tasting those lips a dozen times-
but, honestly, I lost count.  
All I have left is a hazy daydream,
one that I think about
more than I should.
But the truth is,
you made me feel whole
for a couple weeks and I
couldn’t be more grateful for
your warmth and affection.
Good exchange in my opinion.
Take care of yourself.

She was
ninety-nine percent angel,
but oh,
that other one percent
****** me
up.

I don't think
I could ever fit in.
Sometime I feel I was born
to walk alone...
and that is okay.
I have known solitude
all my life and
thought some people will
never understand...
that is okay.

I want to feel what they feel,
and dream what they dream.
It must be nice to have a heart like that.
Sometimes I remember what it was like
to have that spark, the joy, the dreams,
the hunger for it all before
it was extinguished.

These hands reach for warmth
in these dreary months of bitter cold.
Some of us don’t want companionship,
we just someone warm to lie next to
until the thaw.

Your tongue
is an abstract painting,
an artwork born of passion,
each stroke so intricate
yet so abstruse.
Paint with me,
darling.

Do you find yourself
staring into the abyss when
there is no more light
left to be found?
We are only human-
were we ever meant to
know such dread?

You may not be here anymore,
but were you ever really here?
You did a great job acting
that I truly believed you cared,
at least for a while, and worse,
that you actually loved me.

I am always
exploding out of love
yet I still don't know how
to sort through the debris

Our tongues paint
watercolors over our bodies-
each stroke, more intricate than the last.
Fingers slide across smooth canvases,
and we are left with abstract
works of art.

Why do we
glamorize our pain?
Is it because we're so desperate
to hide our wounds and insecurities?
We fall in love with heartache
and glamorize depression.
We turn our tears to watercolours
to practice the art of sorrow.

We all tend to love in extremes,
to let our heart lead
rather than our head.
It is no wonder that balance
has never come natural
to humans-
never has.
We are all still trying
to figure out the perfect
balance between attachment
and detachment.

Some prisons use steel bars;
others merely use
flesh and bone.

Today I feel happy
But how long will it last
Like boat swept beneath the sea
I feel myself drowning in the past
I’m a prisoner of my own mind
Staring helplessly through the bars
Wanting to escape, to unwind
To a time before I felt these scars

Last night you came to me
in a dream-
a teenager!
Oh, how elegantly
you had grown,
my beautiful baby girl.
The way you lit up that station,
the way I held you in my arms
once again,
it was the best dream
I ever had.

time doesn’t heal.
it is a scheming wound
stretching out like the universe itself
until it crunches back into you;
an imploding reality.

For as long as I have known you,
I have wondered how such a tiny girl
can hold so much love.
Indeed, you may be small but
you have the biggest heart
I have ever seen.
How can so much love and beauty
fit inside the small being
that is you?

Her blue hair
played the blues
upon my heartstrings-
a song so beautiful
she entranced the moon above.
Together, we danced beneath the starry night
wondering when her song
could cure our blues.

There are only so many battles
one can fight at any point in time.
to be struggling on so many battlefronts
can leave you weary and even broken
whether they are mental
or physical.
For a mere human mind or body
to be occupied on so many fronts-
well, they were never designed
for that sort of pain.

There's a fog that will not lift
It blocks my path;
all I can do is drift.
Despite how lost I may be,
I still see a light
in front of me.
I cannot tell just what it is,
a figure, maybe even you
or a me I never knew.
The figure still shines and I follow
through the shadow and cold.
Lead the way, tell me where to go.

Sitting on a crowded bus
on my way to another show,
wondering why I bothered
leaving home in the first place.

I feel you slip away
your grip loosens by the second
I'm stretching out my hand
but you don't look up
no, you only stare down
into the abyss below.
I don't know why
you gave up on me
or why I couldn't save you.
I gave it my all
and you still let go.

There was always
distance between us;
we both acknowledged this.
But now, it burns too hot -
it's already summer
yet we're still cold.

You took away
my desire to need love.
For some reason, I accepted it,
and I do nothing to change it.
It is like a curse I must endure.
How much longer must this go on?
Do I hold onto this curse to
avoid more pain and heartbreak?
I have carried this curse for too long
to remember how you made me feel
all that time ago.

It is the human cycle to
surrender to love just as
we surrender to grief.
No one can control this cycle-
it teaches us truth and character,
it builds us up and cuts us down
in the best and worst of times.

No love is ever lost
no matter how wasted it may feel.
The love will return to you
in time, through healing,
in all sorts of ways.
Love cannot be measured-
it cannot be lost nor expended.  
Love surrounds us every day
in all of its abundance and awe.
Love is a miracle that will always pull us through
over and over again.
So never regret the love you give to anyone,
it will always return in its abundance
for you to share again and thus
the cycle of love
continues.

Once this darkness is over,
we won’t remember how we survived.
We won’t even be sure
whether the darkness is really over.
But one thing is certain-
When we climb out of the darkness,
and into the light,
we won't be the same world
that once stood.

A dismal duet-
more like a sad solo
of two hearts
breaking in harmony.
Their tone is flat and
the lyrics don't rhyme.
The melody has gone
astray and the
music dies.

The Day you leave me-
the flowers will never smell the same,
the sun will never shine the same
in the same way that lightning
will never strike twice.

No matter how dark
your petals may wither
just remember to keep shining
and pushing through the dirt.

Love is a
shout into the void-
a long wait for an echo
that may or may not come
falling back to your lips.

Let's look into
one another's eyes
and we can pretend
We aren’t on the edge of something
we won’t survive

If my time were to end
tomorrow,
I would hope not to upset you.
Just know that I lived life to
the best of my ability.
Know that I remained loyal,
bold and sometimes bizarre.
So if I meet my end
tomorrow,
think of it more as a
mere inconvenience
rather than a tragedy.
I have lived a hundred lives,
been on a thousand journeys,
so just be sure to wish me a
safe and thrilling journey
for whatever comes next.

You are your own worst enemy.
Indeed, it is you who have placed
these traps and obstacles along your path.
You underestimated the enemy inside-
its power, its strength, its perseverance.
It has overwhelmed you,
made you feel small and insignificant.
So do not waste your time in search
of an enemy in this world-
your enemy inhabits you.
You have only to look
within.

There ain't nothing like them,
is there?
A gentle reminder that
I have survived
the cold and gloom
for one more
year.

Take your eyes off yesterday
and look to me, the future.
Walk towards me, run if you must,
but do not be afraid of me.
Do not doubt yourself or I
and don't let yesterday hold you back.
Let go of the past, of all the pain,
the loss and the darkness and
do not look back.
You are close now,
I can feel you already,
come to me, the future.

Thinking about the future
makes me anxious.
Not thinking about the future
makes me anxious.
There is no middle-ground and
we are all anxious.

Reflections under a pale moon
her hair shimmers like neptune.
We look up at the stars with awed eyes
and watch the cosmos as time flies.
Her blue hair as blue as her heart,
yet she is still my favorite work of art.
Yes, it's true, her heart is torn,
but like the stars above, we are reborn.
So let us look to the cosmos-
to the heavens we are so close.
Magnificent are the angels up there
as is the girl with blue hair.

Her body
was the sort that
inspired ancient civilizations
to sculpt goddesses into their marble.
Chiseled down to perfection,
they couldn't come close
to the goddess
that is you.

Maybe it's lust or
maybe it's her pheromones-
All I know is that when
I bury my head
into her velvet locks,
time seems to stop
and I must worship
this goddess beside me.

To live a good life,
to stay fulfilled and alive
is to keep you in this heart
at all times.

I may not believe in soulmates
but I do believe that there's someone
out there waiting for you-
whose face you will wake up to
for the rest of your life.
Sure, you may not believe me now-
you can't get over them today-
you probably won't tomorrow-
but just remember that
the silence is okay.
These grey periods in life
are finite and do not need
words to colour them in.

How can we
love someone who
will never reciprocate,
or more so,
love someone who
is not good for us?
The human heart is
a funny thing,
isn't it?

Some hummingbirds
Must dream of sugar
And I remember your lips
Sweeter than sugar
Some hummingbirds
Take pride in their feathers
Yet, vibrant as they are,
Your eyes remain treasures
And now, my broken wing,
It keeps us far apart
But I will continue to sing  
Longing for your heart
and your lips, a work of art
So here’s a song to the girl  
that this hummingbird
still dreams about

I fed the wolf too well
and now the beast barely
fits its sheep's clothing.
And now, the wolf must
hunt again to satisfy
its darker side.

If you find yourself
awake at 1AM,
you just might
be in love.
If you find yourself
awake at 3AM,
don't do anything stupid,
you are loved.
If you find yourself
awake at 5AM,
you should go
to sleep.

I want to make that journey
from your knees to
your hips again-
it was always my favorite route.
Soft plains,
colored of oats,
and each road
I know like the back of my hand.
With my destination in sight,
it's getting more humid
by the inch.
Hotter,
wetter,
hotter,
wetter.

Can we still salvage this kiss
from over seven-thousand
miles away?
Were our lips destined to repel
like the north and south pole?
Or will they find a way
like a heart to a soul?
What were we thinking
when we never said goodbye?
what were we thinking
when we ripped our souls apart?
Can we still salvage this kiss,
as damaged as we are?

To taste her lips
is to drink her soul.

You were the last
bit of good in me.
You walked away,
and never gave it back.