Succumb. Collapse.
Let yourself fall into every trap.
Then love. Cry. Learn.
And Grow.
By the time you know.
You're basking in the glow,
you've lived.
There's nothing better for you to give.

whish whish* is the sound of a suffering
the sound of blood as it squirts
the most exquisite and horrendous fountain
loaded with a despairing call
a siren's ring
because it stings the depths of  the heart
to the very end, from the dreadful start
whish whish is the sound of suffering
the sound of wheels turning
because there was an exit before, there always is
most often it's more than I'm willing to give
whish whish is the sound of suffering
it is the sound of those crying
there is pleading, wailing, sighing
'fore the fates bring forth dying
and there is death in life, thoughts, wisdom, courage
it comes with age, but time's the liveliest gift received
we are deceived if we think we turn each page
whish whish is the sound of a suffering
it's the sound of what's missed
if we had asked before
we mightn't be adorned with the weight
the burden, the baggage, the fate
the mystery is missing
there's hissing in the past
those last faulty choices have played with our cast

I have never been myself as much as I was during those six little days in your company. I let myself become a tornado and hoped to God you wouldn't be swept away by the wind I created in my quake.
2. Building a castle and realizing I am not two hands creating a masterpiece but four, and this beast we built makes me smile so much I fear I will never be able to frown again.
3. Running into the sea because you were already there and having this insane craving to pull you under, as if hiding you away from the earth and inside the sea's body would make me forget I am not the only one allowed to have you.
4. Putting a little wood onto the fireplace and realizing you are already here with logs and determination to make this burn. I still wish, sometimes, that the will you had to build a fire were as strong as your will to keep me around, but I was only a wind of change you blew in the fire for the flame to feed onto. I was just a tool to keep your warm.
5. The gentle hand tugging the blanket further down to cover the little hole by which all the cold air sneaked in to freeze my feet was the moment. I read the same sentence fourteen times because I would not look at you but then I caved and realized you had just opened a door that was supposed to be locked and walked straight into my heart.
6. We played 21 questions while hovering in a tiny boat on the sea's edges and I had the urge to make you drop your paddle and throw mine on the other end of the universe so we would be stuck on this piece of paradise forever.
7. If heaven is a place on earth it would be with you, on that canoe, at that precise moment in time.
8. I can never go back to heaven without letting hell burn me to ashes everytime the thought of you crosses my mind.
9. I burn everyday at least a hundred times.
10. Mastering the art of pretense has never been as difficult as it is now that I have to smile when you hold her and talk as if the universe has not stopped turning on its axis. How can you not see we are cosmic collision seconds apart from creating a whole new galaxy but time has stopped and I wish I could reach for your pinkie like I did 53 days ago but time is not having it.
11. Time has become my worst enemy.
12. I count the seconds I spent without you and the minutes I held you, I count the hours I could have looked at you instead of sleeping and days are longer than years in this world where you do not exist. I wait and wait and wait for the day I will wake up and finally be able to close the door you forgot to shut on your way out.
13. If love is an open door I will build a tower without any doors to lock my heart in and let it rot in loneliness because the pain of being abandoned is worse than the pain of not being alive.
14. My door is still open and if I have learned anything at all it is that no matter the hurt there comes a time when all is forgiven and the only words that will pass my aching lips will be the sound of my voice saying "Thank you, for stopping by".

She held the dark apple in her hand
He ate it but felt so sole
He offered her his heart
Instead she took his soul.

She dragged him to her dark land
but he couldn't call it a home
He felt so used, it was love he thought
instead in an endless sorrow he dove.

The time passed she consumed his spirit
the evil in her has no limit.

Once he became useless..

she caged him with the rest of the boys in the basement
so she could start searching for a replacement

A new man with pure essence
A man with a spiritual possesion

a man ready for the next apple
a man who will lose the battle...


Words Of Harfouchism

If love was a starry, clear sky,
I would find for us cosmic patch
of lunar infatuation swirling among planets.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is here
in the tails of comets sparking in your eyes,
at that time when ship with your body reaches port of my hands.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is here
in the window of our shivery hearts,
in sound of bee wings next to the ears of yours.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is here
in fragrance of linen laid by your hands,
in tea brewed with your golden dreams.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is here
in your singing amidst forest of birches,
in cello playing in the darkness of our alleys.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is in the oaths out of our mouths,
it is in long, common stories attenuated in house full of lilacs.

My mind is
restless
at some number of minutes
past midnight and
I am high
on poetry:
an unnamed
addiction
- drugs -
I wish I had
some of those right now
(not that I'd
know what to do
with them).
I want to be
where the wind speaks
and everything
is directed
at the
moon.
I am an
animal
and I crave
wild nights and
the thrill
of desire
or I will have no choice
but to

howl.

my life is like a poem
stuck onto the side of a cold hard fridge
the way my body lays
on the cold hard ground
trying to put the pieces together
in a way that makes sense
so you think that im not hurt
by what im forming in my head
under the sting of the ray that falls
through your magnifying glass
shifting every now and then
to cover up the stains

I know your apple
Is bittered with poison
But I'm addicted to
Just the next bite