sugary musk scent on my wrists
he reminds me of all the beautiful scents there is
we're not even in love
but the way our hands sync together is the purest form of love
i probably should sleep
but still the songs are there
anytime I want to grab memories
of different hallways in my mind and soul
new perspectives
randomness
calculated pauses
heavenly recitings
I write it down in the most non poetic form
just to never forget the slightest memory
of you
but you deserve poetry and
for your movies to win

a friend told me it's sad to touch a dissected frog's heart
i knew a frog didn't have emotions
but it does feel pain 
when it moves its limbs to jump out
i know its heart is
a mass of pain and fear
i say it's only terrifying
you'd only be afraid it would swallow you whole
for doing this to it
imagine touching the chambers of your heart
the pumping of your ventricle
swallowing another person
doing this to you
all the pain
all the fear
all your attempts to survive
and your heart so full of the person who was your last hope
i say embrace it
or let it swallow you whole

he feels like a dark russian film
his emotions are directed guns
only when he likes to shut me away for two days and a half
he leaves me with a memory of him
like a forked road
first road
is my way to a good old friend i no longer know about
second road
my way through forgetting
a bizarre dream i've had years ago
in between, I found the love
that tore down my innocence
for it wasn't the love
that gave you butterflies
only golden beetles and cockroaches
you would have no chance to cringe
and I couldn't bring myself to hate him
his love was unconditional
or there was no love at all

this is the presence that doesn't
for we can't meet somewhere
cause you're in me all along
this unheard symphony
of our closeness
doesn't set us free
doesn't set us apart
it just sets us where we should be
in each other's hearts

listen to the world around you
listen to the silence
the sound of everything
but people
smell all that reminds you of your favorite people
listen to your heart
the outside of your head
include those who suffer silently
and feel your connection
maybe someone's heart had hope today
maybe that's why I'm writing this
no one can feel me except them
maybe God listened
nobody knows how i feel except him
maybe if we weren't living life with a heart of a poet
we wouldn't have tried to let go

i cannot speak well
for my head is spinning with too much thoughts
it got dark
when i stopped thinking about more poems to write.