I’ll give you one day
It doesn’t have to be today
And it doesn’t have to be tomorrow
It can be all the days gone by
As we keep getting older
Getting closer to new adventures
Sharing small moments
As beautiful as cherry blossoms
Like now, as you turn 19
And I can’t make the promise;
To always be around
But I’ll give you one day in three hundred and sixty five
Where we won’t have the day flash by
Where we’ll forget our responsibilities
19 or 90
We can live the day until the sun goes down
Until one day ends

I am often seduced by ideals out of reach
Which have caused a manifestation of bloodstained fog
Transmissions to penetrate my white imagination
Tearing down the picture frames and destroying the films of my past.
I vaguely recognize the harsh taste of lies escape my mouth
Shaving the white of my teeth;
It tastes like swallowing a mouthful of infected Whisky
It burns my insides as if I were being repeatedly punched in the ribs
During such an awful moment, I shouldn't feel dreadful apathy of my crimes
Instead, I smell the sweet sugars of the Chocolate Factory
Which was once radiant with a glow unlike any other, but those days are gone.
As I lie here alone on the pavement howling at the moon
I hear the tune of waterfalls hitting the pavement approaching
Though the evening is quite dry
A gust of wind blows harsh against the cars and every so often they yelp
Only when I open my eyes do I comprehend the situation
The waterfalls belong to the person above me
I gaze into their colorful eyes then cling to their outstretched hand
They take me home where I no longer feel the pain

You got this way about you
I can't figure out
All that I said remains true:
I want to see where life takes you

Your gentle hands, unspoken brush strokes—
Why mask your portrait in shades of gray?
Give yourself the same grace

Why is your worth a foreign concept?
You're the epitome of the green and gold

What can I do?
Certainly can't argue—
Just accept a—

simple truth:
you're the green and gold inside the gray

tu as une seconde?
je voudrais vous parler au sujet de
un cœur féroce vaincu

I am a grey wall
stained and full of cracks
but you've hung a frame
with a memory of us
over each crack
and you've spilled words of love
over each stain

I seldom wear dark colors
I like pastels
But all the colors faded
I searched for possible ways
To brighten faded colors
But I did it wrong
I suppose the colors look unique mixed together
But I feel faded
I think I’ll wear dark colors
Until I figure out how to wear unique colors

It snowed last night
I’m tired
I’d like to close my eyes for a while
Will you drive?
I don’t want to sleep anymore
I want to work
But I don’t know why I can’t
Am I lying to myself?
Am I motivated?
Why don’t I want to do this?
What happened?
Darling, have I lost the passion?
It’s a snowy day
Darling, have I lost the love?
It’s a slow day
Darling,
It must be me

I did the laundry last night
Took me twice as long as it usually does
My room is a mess
My hair is wet
But I don’t want to tend to it
Let it knot
I don’t know why I can’t
What’s stopping me from functioning?
My routine is so messed up
I’ve been sleeping till 2 in the afternoon
When I usually wake up at 7am
It’s a snow day
Darling, I have no purpose
It’s a slow day
Darling, I have no interest
Darling,
It must be me

This poem is hard to write
I want to stop right here
But I’m gonna finish it
Because I have to do something
I can’t lose myself like this
I don’t care if it ain’t good enough
**** THIS!

I like to write down little notes
Keep them in my back pocket
I’m all alone at the front
The bell rings
But no one comes in
It’s a snowy day
It’s a slow day
It must be me
Why is this me?

The newspaper has been torn
And written on
In blue pen
But the crossword is incomplete
And I don’t know how to solve it
But the crossword is incomplete
And I’d like to feel tears
But they won’t come
How did I get here?
I’d like to cry
I’d like for someone to scream inside my head
I’d like to get back
But it’s quiet
They must’ve given up

Something is wrong
Am I gone?

I’m hard to love
He couldn’t love me
It’s okay
I can’t love myself either
How could anyone?

I know a girl whom October loves
She is the colors it breathes;

She is
A golden river of champagne
Steadily moving upwards
Reaching for galaxies

She is
The comfort it needs to calm its trembling leaves
Because everything’s falling
Coming down like spring showers
Everything’s changing, screaming Red
And so is she
So is she

She is
A minor miracle
To those who know her  
If only you knew her
If you knew her you’d know
She is screaming Red

Full of determination
Working against gravity
Striving with a passion
Day by day

She is
The trees
Dripping maple syrup
Drawing a line
An amber line
On the horizon

Waking up a
A bouquet of flavors
That should always be experienced
Never described

For there aren’t enough days
To describe the girl
Constantly changing
Like the leaves that fall
Day by day

And when the trees are bare
Once all the leaves have gone
And when cold days invade
Once there is nothing left

You will find her
Radiant as the fall
Golden as the streams
Screaming Red
Drawing an amber line
Day by Day

She is
The Colors October breathes.

the truth
It's simple, It's sweet

no one can handle you
expect you

you're transformed by these words
these thoughts
these emotions
you're shackles

you write the story

and I, What I want

the truth
It's simple, it's sweet

for us, you and I, to meet
somewhere
by chance
one day

when time collides

in a corner cafe
maybe at the bus stop

I read the story

I'm transformed by these words
these  thoughts
these  emotions
my shackles

and you, What you want

It's simple, It's sweet
the truth

Empty liquor bottles
Landscape dipped in gray paint
Humanity, I own you

You know
I’m still afraid of crowded places—  
My steps,  
Echoes,  
On the staircase,  
Past all those faces,  
But I couldn’t find yours.  

Bunny rabbits,  
I name after you,  
Visit in the summer.  

I should've found you,  

I dreamt of you again,
Sitting by the window,  
Reading newspapers, drinking coffee.  
My red dress, my broken heart,  
The end of a moment—  
Sunny skies, as bright as your eyes.  
I miss your laughter on the phone.  

You know,
I’m still scared of needles,  
But I loved your tattoos and piercings—  

It's a heavy heart,  
Hard to carry,  
Hard to bear these days.  

You baked bread inside of war,  
And somehow, it always tasted like home.  

Your drawings, my office—
Sunflowers and sunshine,  
As if secrets were shared with honeybees,  
Revealing:
How to grow in the dark,  
How to find better days.  

The card you made,  
Ripped to pieces, taped back together—  
All that’s left are shades of gray.  

When the wind rises,  
Do dandelions carry the soul?  

In February—  
When I sit and whisper affections  
To graves,  
I watch them grow.  

Someday,  
When the wind rises,  
Will dandelions carry my soul to you?

This is just a reminder
To tell you
That I
will
always love you

This is just to let you know
That I
will
always care

When you walk away
From all this
Sadness

When you walk away
From all this
Madness

When you walk away
From all this
Anger and Guilt and Pain

I will still be here

Does anything ever stay the same?
Only that everything changes

Don’t it always seem to go
That nothing stays the same

This is just a reminder
To tell you
That I
will
always love you
as we change

This is just to let you know
That I
will
always care
as we grow

Through all the
sadness
Through all the
madness
Through all the
anger and guilt and pain

I will Always be here

I miss you is a pointless exercise
a murmur in the Sahara,
swallowed by endless sands

I can't carve myself into something you'd miss.

I love you is a sandstorm—
turbulent, scorching,
a fury that never seems to settle

I have no idea how to be something you'd love.

And I don't think I want to try
anymore.

I don't want to bend and break
under the weight of
your
sandstorm

Fascinating,
adapting to survive in nutrient-poor soil,
By any means necessary,
even if the method seems harsh—
it's natural, it's inevitable.

Consuming over-populated insects,
masquerading as "butterflies," unapologetic—
careless minds, thoughtless words,
misusing your name,
feeling foolish, wilting,
self-dissolving.

It wasn’t your fault.
Some plants need different pots to grow—
deeper roots, stronger hands.
Do you see it now?
It was only survival.
I’ve got you now.

A marvel of evolution,
you grew in unique and creative ways.
Many won’t appreciate you,
but I do.
I’ve got you now.

They were never butterflies—
only illusionists,
fooling you, using you.

Venus – goddess,
Fly – rise high, embrace your
Trap – not you, never you,
not by their hands.

I’ve got you.
I've got you now.
Venus, Fly, Trap.

I got you

Venus Flytrap