You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.

Amongst the crowd, I blaze it across and up
Down the middle, a mechanically knit hug
With its broken handle
And popping arm crossstiches
To fasten the shame
To hide the tears inside me
That have not evaporated

In my jacket, I am me
3XL and slowly dying
Of a death that no one knows
Or a change that could end the world's colds
No one knows because no one knows care

Eitherway, the fantasy *****
So for reality, I conform
And learn to hide
My curves that have been
Rolled against the mud I never wanted
Shot into the toilet that the water dwelled in stench
Bruised in the way of another but never for a child. Brutal for a teenager

Because love was tailor made
For someone else
Time was made to order
For the busy and no time for me
Because friends beat you up
For being a giant that doesnt fight back

Locked secrets
A past and a pension
Within my body
That I am willing
I am so wishing
To be a shadow
In my black jacket
A face not from the many
But being trampled on the floor
Yet phasing through
Like the timeless, like a ghost
Seldom gone but never present

Can a year change a man

to what he is
from anything else

of life
his notions
emotions

Can a few garbled words
of unshapen thoughts
inked on paper
carve the way
for the rest of his days

Can a teen’s painted mind
a treasure finds
that he holds on
making him alone
but rich in loneliness
never craving to possess
but embrace
what’s his destined
a love a heart
but when goes past
never breaches his trust

Can a year make a man
what he would be
the rest of his life
when he inked on paper
his first poem
that to this date
shapes his fate
keeps him free.

Did all these the year

1973.

the red girl turning blue
means she's falling for you
displays her love's basic
your charm has done the trick.

the blue girl turning red
means your chance is bleak
displays no love is bred
your sight makes her acidic.

the red girl remaining red
the blue girl remaining blue
in this worst case I'm afraid
she's neutrally looking at you.

The long quiet slumber
shatters
with the heat
he summons so easily

My master fire starter.

Building me up
and setting ablaze
She
that has waited long,
           so long
to burst forth -

now,
now,
now,

I Wake.