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roses are bed Jan 2018
TV
Stuck, we are
White noise that never developed color
In black rooms we sit
Guiding the stage lights
As we sleep here tonight we contemplate
How to break its walls

Our connection was the light
Consuming us, spitting us out
We all become static

This city doesn't sleep
It doesn't wake up

We only observe
Talk of how and when
It could all be over
By the touch of a button
Click of a mouse
Twist of a plot




Stuck, I was
In the shapes of another dimension
Residing in this room with you
Yet so far apart were we
Between our respective stage lights

Our connection was the dark
Where your day ends and mine begins
Somewhere along these footprints
That grew more and more apart, animalistic
Where I was made part of your twisted world
As you became of mine
We'll crawl deep in each other's psyche
And live in each other's fantasies
Just like the shows you see on TV

But the reality is
We'll always end up in this same room
A room of no walls
Where time will stop
And I will stare back

I watch you watch me

It all depends on perspective
roses are bed Jan 2018
When I was born
I couldn't say words





When I was a child
They couldn't understand





When I grew up
They stopped listening





As I grew older
I slowly became them




As time reciprocates what I tell you,
The words that escape will tell time.
roses are bed Dec 2017
Looking down from the 7th floor of this 6-story apartment


In my head I calculated if it would work


And if I should even leave anything behind


"Don't waste your time on me anymore"
That's what I've wanted to say


But there would be no point in trying to get through


No more anything anymore


If I just make myself go through with it

I just want to go back

To another me

Back to the first story

A story I have never told anyone

Long forgotten and buried under

This pile of misdirection and lies

One day I will find it, so until then

I will keep digging out my insides

And I won't stop


Because god has an apartment complex

To renovate
Renovate
Renovate
Renovate
roses are bed Nov 2017
[I wish I could start again.]

Like a rock climber attached to her entrusted harness
Coming up from the cliff, and if she was falling
Her friends will be waiting on each side
Eagerly for her feet to touch the floor



But I'm alone
Just another wanderer
Every morning I wake up falling behind
Looking for the stars to guide me
Strings to hold me upright
When I would rather have slumped
Everyday looking at my feet
These undone laces I always want perfect
But can't even bother tying anymore


WHY AM I LIKE THIS
I can't accept it


I. can't. accept. it.

I just wish I could start again
From Point Z to A
But I'm far beyond those 26 letters aren't I?

I already know what you think
Just yesterday I saw you
And when you looked back at me
You didn't say a word
With that you spoke everything

I spent the rest of that night, that year, listening
As words rang and echoed across this once peaceful dark room
Cutting through the silence like stab wounds
Filling it with demons twice the size of space they occupied
All equipped with knives as they proceed to carve deeper in
Down into the heart of the seamstress
Sewing and stitching at what has ripped and spilled
Trying to keep things neat and tidy outside
But could not replace what was lost in the end


Today my body tried to wake up
But my spirit never did
Under the cover and pillows I shuffled and searched
This time I couldn't find it no longer

As I instinctively, curiously followed it
I opened what's inside and looked towards the mess left behind
I saw that I made my own strings
The connections I have cut, the bad ones I have kept
Lines I have drawn and reshaped
Boundaries I should not have crossed
The strings I've hung onto all of my life, clinging to me now
As they slowly drag me, pulling me down
Us slowly inching away into the abyss below
And as I called for friends to catch me, to help reel me back up
I realized too late that no one else was there all along
Only the downward spiral of regret grief and sorrow
They all came back today
Just to visit me, haunt me
Taunting me through where I was stuck
This one, last
Never ending
Loop

Each string
Twisting and turning
Every fiber of my being
As I struggled
Panicking at first
Then slowly, more steadily
Wriggling helpless until everything gave up


I was alone
Eagerly waiting for my feet to touch the floor
roses are bed Nov 2017
Once upon a time
I dreamed we were once a wave
A singular pluck by an instrument
Playing the universe's lullaby
Sequences of letters and numerical anomalies
Designing the structures to our theory and building them up to the skies
So high we stood, breaking through realities and their boundaries
That was where we made our home
Somewhere they could never find us
An open space we shared in secret
Where every seam and vein intertwined
And together we created a fabric of time
Society and civilizations all blanketed by history's eternal slumber
As we slept alongside it, blessed to wake up another day
So that in our own theory we could exist

But that was just a dream.
roses are bed Nov 2017
Would you like to hear a poem?
I'm sure you would
After all that's why you're here
Okay, let's see

Looking down this abyss with me
Feels kind of calming don't you think?
I can hear it gently whisper words to me
If only I could make it out
If only I could
Make it out

Wait

You hear that too?
It's a sound of wind
Brushing against something
Something empty, hollow
A plane
A hole
A burial
The sound
The uncertainty
It's been driving me insane for years now
Meanwhile
The sky told me to calm down
The abyss told me to come down
But whose voice did I hear?
I don't know anymore

But it's beautiful here, isn't it?
What?
Oh right sorry, the poem
What would you like to hear?
roses are bed Nov 2017
I live in a God's complex
A metropolis of facilities all lined up neatly in rows
One by one, each line of an intelligent design
State of the art insulations perfectly enclosing this refuge
An oasis in the cold, safe from outside harm
Sheltering the lost arts of relaxation and comfort

They say God is blind
Oh so precious was the thought
But from this view
I can see everything
And from the inside
I can hear everything
Carry anything
What could ever tear this down?

Who knows
Only God knows
God's elaborate
God's complex
He oversees everything
Hears everything

But they say God was deaf
That God owed them
A heaven in the skies
That he hears everything
The truths and the lies
But God owns a building complex
Behind walls he was confined
He was a terrorist
By the mask that we assigned
An almost architect
A destroyer nonetheless
And through his own believes
He was once an atheist
A teacher, a student
A son, a mother
A father, a daughter
A cynic and a lover
Conformist and traitor, his own creator
A dreamweaver, human creature, Godmaker
Taking up every living space this world had to offer
Settling in, committing sin
Exploiting God's creations, claiming it theirs
Leeching off all that he is within
Taking and taking as God gave them up out of love
One by one the spaces were occupied
The new Gods came


As all the young and old put words in each other's mouths
Fighting for what was once good, now only selfish
Driven by a need
For a purpose, a calling
A self-fulfilling prophecy to create something out of nothing
They talked in circles and shapes
As he
He didn't say a word
And so they thought he was mute
But they just never listened
Inside these last four walls
He will hear everything
When nothing outside exists anymore
When nothing he's created talks back anymore
When nothing moves, and nothing moves him
Dead silence
He's heard enough
And so on the last day he rested
To never return again


God has a building complex

To renovate
Renovate

Renovating the nothingness inside
I'm not religious, this is an ambiguous piece
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