I’m so obsessed with my past,
So I neglect my future,
Staring at *****,
Staring at taillights,
So I don’t get ran over,
Chauffeured around staring at these lights,
But refuse to take the steering to steer my life,
Afraid of strife,
Afraid I stand,
On a road I planned,
But so obsessed I am with my past,
I walked away.

I choose to be incorrect in this moment.
To lay in bed with my sins.
To unveil the red bottle of champagne that has been fermenting on the counter hidden in the locked away room.
I choose to fall in love with your silky brown buttered eyes.
Your cinnabar coated lips.
Your cream flavored skin.
To sing along to the crescendo of your thighs.
To ride the waves of disaster to the burning of my home.
Reconstruction is not present in my mind.
I’ll keep igniting as long as these feelings don’t subside.

It is not wrong to love someone endlessly.
To shatter in the thought of the loss of that person.
Cowering in fear of that person departing is a very natural reaction to have.
Loving myself hasn’t been enough for me.
I love her.
I think that is a courageous act to know that you love someone so much that if you were to lose them, it’s imminent that you would crumble.
I enjoy the thought of that.
I enjoy being in absolute love.

Fighting the curtain that’s closing over my heart.
I want to continue the act.
Let the light radiate my face one more time.
I want to experience the nervousness of all eyes peering onto me.
To overcome the bubble that sits in my throat.
I want to feel the ecstatic moment when my feelings are flushed on paper.
I can’t seem to halt this momentum.
It seems my passion is hinting at a finale.

I refuse to know you through a digital point of view.
I wanna see you unfiltered on the first take.
I wanna hear the first words that sprouts from your mouth that you think is a mistake.
I wanna see you before coffee in the morning.
I wanna see you when you’re having a lousy day.
I wanna see the organic flawed person that show their true feelings.
Let me see the beauty behind the mask.
Your true self.
For human sake.

I’ve spoken my truth but the melody you hear is never so smooth.
Crackling of the glass, shattering of the base beneath your feet.
I’ve stepped back and you’ve retreated back towards your heart.
You’ve cut the thread.
Red silk linen torn into minute shreds.
Red pigments contaminated with bitter lead.
Lacerations paint me dark cause I gave you space to focus my love for you but you perceived it as it wasn’t strong enough to hold on to you.

How genuine of you to only think of my value in a transactional view.
As we debate on the topic of generosity, strolling along the lines of what the attributes of an authentic person is according to the confused world’s unstable dictionary.
It’s simple you see, you see digital scriptures that explain the indicators of what such would appear as and we all forgot our own flaws, the construct of what makes up human beings and it is sickening to watch.
It is the most despicable traits that are being championed.

I wanted to expand my art.
I thought of many ways of how you make me feel, many images populated inside of my head.
I thought of how I could write this into words but a painting or drawing would be better.
How could I describe when you entered my life?
I thought of love and happiness.
I thought of the sweet smell of clean fresh air entering my nostrils.
A cup of hot Ethiopian coffee paired with the morning sunshine.
I thought of many things but I wasn’t happy when I met you.
I was the graphic of blue.
Blue like the deepness of the night.
Blue like the absence of light.
I was utterly blue so sorry but this is my imagination of you…
The golden hand with a picture with red hot liquid pouring into a deceased blue heart. This is your meaning.
A human capable of revival.
So with the love that I received from you, I offer it all and more back to you.
I love you.

I’m guessing whenever I feel a strong emotion I should take notes.
I don’t have much left.
I rarely feel them.
So I thought if I inscribe them, maybe they’ll be reminders.
Reminders that I still have a trace of an organism in me.
Because my world is pretty gray and even my words nowadays don’t have much expression.
You could probably see the vacancy in my face.
I find my conversations are very vague and everyone around me has a name.
And my soul is such a hollow space.
My heart has froze over.

I’ve been swimming in a mucky puddle with my mouth open wide.
The soiled water keeps rushing in.
I place my hands over my face to reflect the downpour but it still continues to breach my blockade.
I’m so exhausted, I’m pinned, I’m fully expended.
I accept it because my legs are too weak to stand and my arms are too numb from opposing.
Thoughts cross my mind of ambitious attempts of freedom but my eyes are too hazy to see the light.
I fall weightlessly to the solid ground.
Hollowed or rather expired from my dissolved resolve.
I’m withering in the bright of summer.

I’ve become selfish with my poems.
I’ve started not to care about the quality of them.
“That’s so beautiful” they would say.
Now I just want it to be unappreciated.
I don’t care for the oohs and awes.
Those are the times when I would write for others.
Now I write for myself.
This a ugly mess relating to only me.
To write about how I truly feel.
To care not what others think.
Like it or love it.
It’s no longer significant.
The long extended detail poems are contrary to how I feel now.
A man of few words.
The words I know are no longer adequate.
I am depressed and I never knew that poetry wouldn’t be enough to describe my situation.
It’s made me selfish. I don’t care to explain.
I just reluctantly strive to get over this ****.