I need baby bars on my bed
To keep me from falling
On my head.

- Sincerely, I'm a wild dreamer.

Spider in my room.
Tucked away in the corner.
I know you are there.

Fuyu for Winter,
Natsu for Summer.
I find no ***** to give,
So that's a huge ******.

Our genesis,
The foundations of us,
Was architecturally unsound.
A mistake.
A footprint left in wet cement,
Once dried, it's for all to see.
To point at. To laugh at.

Our genesis; A mistake.
We were the two girls
That shouldn't have held hands so liberally
During the school culture festival.
Two girls.
Who know a broken heart,
Tried to tie our halves together in a twisted knot,
All to get over our previous loves, previous lives,
And try to move on with something fresh on our fragile minds
And immortal, frail, hearts.

You stitched my heart back together within a few days,
So I'm sorry that I wasn't enough to stitch yours within years.

The ones with blurred faces
Knocked down my door last night
And tugged at my limbs with such desperation
- A rigorous exercise.

Their hands, rattling in a sharp neon glow
Stole away many things as they held me down
And shone the bright lights into my eyes,
Turning my pupils into hollowed colour:

Trust.
Potential.
Innocence.
Friendship.

All gone.
All taken.
All dead.
During the break-in.

The low cloud above the hill
Would cling to the top of the tallest tree,
And yet no memory of us
Would cling to me the way nature illustrates.

Not forgetfulness, my love.
Not out of spite, my dear.
Just a watercolor of the way we were.
And don't lie, we weren't happy.

Those days where we sat in front of a konbini,
Long after-school after-noons,
Ended far too soon.
Ended far too quiet.

You would stare, stare, stare a storm.
A tempest that I could not see despite examining you for a lifetime.
They said we looked perfect together.
But you never looked at me the way you would the distance.

So instead the distance stood in between me and you,
Kota.
I was so ready to love you.
But we bit off more than we could chew.

I watched as my heart was wrenched out of my body.
I watched as the blade twisted into my chest,
And punctured my lungs so I couldn’t breathe.

As the sword withdrew,
My heart spilled out and lay beating on the floor,
And she didn’t even carry a look that indicated the words:

“I’m sorry.”

Seven spotted ladybird,
Dancing in my mind.

Its shade a deep burgundy,
with a slight shine that sparkled
under the soft rays of the sun.

It wobbled its way across the hood of car.
And I poked it gently,
Making it clumsily fall on its back in the driveway.

I cupped the tiny thing in my hands,
And eventually, it flew away.

I made this skirt from
Pierre Cardin's spring collection
Where a thief stole a pound, and I paid a nickle.

I made this shirt from
A pretty curtain
That I ripped out of a groovy bungalow

I made this bracelet from
Beads drifting down river Arakawa
A child's beads, probably thrown in a tantrum.

I made this pendant from
A glass marble from a goldfish bowl
In the small classroom of an elementary school

I found my socks in a dumpster.
I found my shoes in a runaway train.
I found my coat on the shoulders of a model.

And so I plead not guilty.

To be a gentleman in a Chatroom,
One must always introduce themselves as a number.
As an age.
To inform the fine maidens of the Chatroom that,
'Yes! I am legal.'
So that way they feel obliged to tell you:
'Why, I am too!'

You must also accompany such a number with your gender.
Just so that they won't get confused,
And know that you are a
masculine
manly man
of manliness.

It is of the Gentleman's Etiquette to note your existence afterwards.
A simple 'Here' would suit.
Or spice it up with a
'You?'
Afterwards.

Make sure you always ask how your possible future **** partner is feeling, it's only polite. If they say
'I'm feeling wonderful, how about you?'
or
'My day's been ghastly. How about yours?'
- No matter what the answer, make sure to reply with a steady:
'Nothing much', or if you're feeling impatient, 'nm'
Just to show that no, you don't really care
and want to get straight into business.

- Which shows that you are a man with a clear goal in mind, and as we all know, women adore men with confidence!

The next step is the bargain.
You need to sell yourself to the feline with flair,
Ferocity,
Wit, style, charisma.

'Wanna ****?'

And if they reject your courteous advances, all you can do is tip your hat and carry on to the next lady in waiting.

I can own
seven wonderful tiny old rectangular turquoise Sri Lankan Jaguars.

But I cannot own
seven Sri Lankan wonderful rectangular old tiny turquoise Jaguars.

No.
That makes me sound crazy.

An insect.
That crawls upon my body, except I can't quickly swat it away
Without causing attention to myself
and everyone noticing that my
white ******* are pulled
all the way down
to my ankles.

My lips are dry so I bite them.
Knuckles whitening while I hold onto the grip-strap
And I hear his heavy breathing against my neck.
I look at the tunnels, quickly passing by.
'Maybe this will end fast too?'

Naive of me to think so.

Sliding into my flower
Like a toxic, little aphid.
Stuck on my sticky leaves
As petals are parted and

I pour out of the open doors in Shinjuku station,
And run out, wiping a tear on my sleeve.
I tug up my decency
While I run to the ticket booth.
Angry foreigner was yelling at the old man who sits within.
The clock above strikes eight.
I decide that it's not worth it.
I won't tell anyone.
It doesn't matter.
Could be worse.
It's okay.
I'm okay.







I wasn't okay.

The phone is ringing
but I don't want to get out of bed.

I'm a caterpillar stuck in a cocoon.
It's not my time to flourish -
no one else is home.

So I guess I have no choice but to be the butterfly
Then crawl back into my casing once more.

I look up to the moon late at night.
My long legs dangle off a park bench,
Hands gripping onto the edge of the table.

I'm happy there's no old gum stuck underneath.

Erena plays a song from her iphone,
It blared from her speakers like wildfire
Never the less, it suited the mood.

I ask her, what are you playing?
"なんでもない"- "It's nothing."
I shrugged.

We noticed how big the moon was that night.
Big, bright, boisterous.
Showing off its curves,
Spots, blemishes, imperfections.
I wish I was that confident.

Moon,
I see you.
How does it feel to be watched by so many insecure, lonely people?

Moon,
Please answer,
Are you as confident as you seem, so high above?

Or,
Maybe,
You're just like us.

The warmth of the sun
Vanishes prematurely.
Light on pale skin fades to shadows

But they hold my hand,
Like a toddler to a teddy,
And never vanish, nor envelop.

No pain, but not numb.
Cold, but not freezing.
It's night. And this is fine.

Aki for Autumn,
Haru for Spring.
I hate karaoke,
Because I can't sing.

The mist that leaves the vapour in the morn
Crafts fragile drops of aqua,
Gently glides down the windows
Of an empty classroom.

Crisp cold enters from rough winter winds,
The doors would shut themselves,
As a gentle shower of rain would burst from the big grey blanket
That carpeted the skies.

Rain would fall.
Pitter
Patter,
Pitter,
Patter,
Upon the tin roof.

As I watched more of those soft, small orbs of water stream down the chilled glass.