after three wildest hours
and forty four raging minutes
sitting up alone
with no witness

how can I quietly sleep
and evade to dream
any thorn-apples, foxholes
mulberry trees

in oddly detailed scenes
and the like sequence of visions
that chase me at will
shredding my precision

I better go somewhere else
but treat me well
when eyes need to rest
electric lights cannot help

so I've burn the cane
tonight on a boggy shore
and pallid fire came
and high above owl roared

Victoria's feet soaked deep down
Shuffled, wrecked under the alcoholic trail of thoughts
As the crevice of pane pulled
A chariot, enthralled was she
The resplendent charioteer hailed
The chandelier, glowing and gorgeous
Embraced and embarrassed as were they
Victoria leashed the chariot
The magnificent chariot boarding chandelier
Departed from the crevice of the pane
Pulling a trail of thoughts and beaming
Victoria growled and dreamt in peace..

most people see me as
a happy person because
i laugh easily,
i smile a lot,
i joke a lot.

but deep down
in my heart,
i am fragile,
i can get hurt easily,
but i choose to not
show it to the world.

instead of being sad,
i choose to laugh to cover it.
maybe you can call me
"the queen of the mask"

by this,
you can tell
that most of the time
when I'm laughing,
I'm not really laughing,
i was trying so hard to hide
my sadness.

I feel like I’m losing a friend,
It started off slow,
Faded like your favorite t-shirt,
After one too many wash cycles.

Like the stretch of an overused rubber band,
Losing its resilience,
It’s snap,
It’s ability to bounce back.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the t shirt,
Going through the same cycle,
Over and over,
And expecting different results.

Like the shirt’s need to be clean,
Is my need for validation,
To not hurt your feelings,
To make me feel better about myself.

But I no longer care,
How you feel,
What you do,
Or who you do it with.

I made it through one last wash cycle,
One more strip of my colors,
My identity,
But somehow I came out brighter than ever.

as much as every perfectly chosen word
inked onto the pages of a love story;
the glances i quickly steal when you look away,
the words i tentatively send at three a.m.
confessing things i didn’t know lived within me
now forming and taking space between us

your arms host thousands of my insecurities and fears
and you seem to hold them so lovingly
so i am no longer scared of giving them life;
the love with which you hold things that are pocket-sized versions of me
is a love embedded in my memory, sparked to life every time i look at you,
you look at me,
i really think we love each other the same way
because the beauty i see in you,
could be seen in me by someone who handled fragile things with care
i think i could be beautiful in that way
which is to say, i think i could be revered,
because this is a beauty i worship,
ever-present in my dreams, and fresh in memory during my waking hours

i am not so delusional to believe i am a god,
but i must have mistaken the softness in your eyes
for a sort of appreciation
love that only you could harbour for me,
because you do not love me
i’ve learned, painfully,
that i am a fool for loving so easy
and that most people do not toss such a delicate feeling around so recklessly
and trustingly,
for good reason
because now this is love blanketed in pain
and anxiety that does anything but cushion the fall

on paper, i swear we make sense
and i can believe that you do not love me
but there are several pieces missing
i must be seeing myself differently in the mirror than you do
because i thought we made sense
but if you do not love me, maybe i am not the person i thought i was with you
that girl is not stupid enough to fall into this type of trap
but i am
you should have told me how ugly i really am;
i must be, if my heart is not one you could embrace

and i need to take back all the pieces i gave you
because it no longer makes sense for you to hold them the way you do
even if there is still space, empty,
i do not want to be touching you
or for you to be touching anything that is remotely me
because i think i could easily believe you love me all over again.