I made a list
of all the men I had *** with

It was a decent list
But it wasn't enough
to be called neither a *****
nor an angel

I tucked it away
Into the pages
Of a collection of poems
by Charles Bukowski

I imagine he would've found that
amusing.

I stand outside alone at night

My eyes on the stars shining bright

I sing a little song

drink a little drink

and I find myself wishing

for your presence

to see what I see

to be alone with me.

The voices echoing late at night
Trying to ignite that fire light
Faded dreams but they do not care
Wishing on stars for those who dare

They sing and dance for the coming dawn
Mourn for those young ones who have gone
And in their tears and fears they cry
Wanting to live forever, never to die

They laugh and smile because they're alive
Finding a love that will not strive
So they lift their tired heads to the sun
Waiting for something that will never come


16/10/10

I've grown weary of funerals
yet I'm just 25
But I think none is as tired as my uncle

In a span of nearly three decades
He buried
His parents, a sister,
two sons, two brothers
and one granddchild

And yet he managed a smile
held my hands in his
whispered I love you
when it was my turn to bury my father.

There is a feeling of restlessness
Of boredom
Of things left undone and unsaid

When I think of you
When I miss you
Nothing heals, nothing helps

I wish for things that have no point for wishing
I only know that I feel empty
But even that won't last

It's such a shame really
For there was something in you, in me
That is now lost.

russian prince in a mug
so much pain so young so long
can mark someone for life

so much so
they never recover

losing sight
of the light
that was always theirs
until
their young bitter hearts
no longer see

It's this I'll always have
These memories
These scars
It's those moments I'll always remember
Live for
Long for
It's the images that remain unbroken
Your eyes
Your smile
It's that face that haunts me most of all
That wanting
That love.