a giggly child dancing in the rain
would watch it fall unto a stream
and puddles would grow to show a path
adventure awaits long at last
down the brook
through the grove
under a tree
across a mossy train road
how tragic it is to tell his fate
when last he met a golden gate
chased a fish to the depths
couldn't rise even with all his strength

in the beginning
          it was only her and him
                 each year they would meet and it would always be
different...

Her: Hi I like you and wondered if you like me too?
Him: I only like girls who don't have to wear training bras...


1 year later
-----------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------
Her: I don't have to wear those anymore. You must like me for sure?
Him: I only like girls who break the rules...


1 year passes
----------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------
Her: I left my house and stabbed my friends in the back, can I have you to myself?
Him: I only want girls who waste their life.

Her: I refuse to do anything like that
Him: What have you been doing all this time?

let's fall into the wild side
              let us
dive into a dry spell of summer  
              let
                 us
live life like on-top of a Saturday night retro
              l  e  t
               u  s
listen to mummers of every newcomer in our circle
             l                 e                  t
                      U               S
have youth of touching silhouettes behind a red corea door
             su tel
tell this with cracks in our eyes tears in our throat
LU
luve and don't regret

Flowers Bloom

Petals unfurled,
Amidst the tangled web of deceit,
Truth triumphed,
And in its wake,
Flowers bloomed,
A quiet testament,
To the enduring beauty,
Of honesty's embrace.

Petals Fall with angelic grace

I want to do you - you nasty little creature

but I cannot stomach - you seeing another.

The sacred touch of your skin -
is nothing like theirs - to hƎll with all them-
I only need yours.

Am I just a Vermin - riddled with diseases - or am I worth saving ? until you don’t need me

I’m so pathetic but I’m so obsessive- maybe this is what true love is called...

—SHOW TIME—

Sorry for the way I stumbled into your life.
I swear to God-the floor was pulling at my ankles…
also! the celling top was giving me a backside high-five — the moment I finished the fifth and after the sun turned off the lights.

I embarrass myself each time I try to embrace this side,
cliche as falling in love like a rerun television show—
freaking out like a pubescent clown realizing he should have grown up to be a mime;
a silent touch of romantic irony, laughing at my own jokes,
until this awkward moment flies out the window…

stop me if you heard this one before;
why did time grow wings?
to fly by like a crow squalling-
that it is past time you should be married…

—PUNCH LINE—

unreliable communication
=
incomprehensible interpretations

being an addict to tragic accidents-
known as flirtatious Failures fulling the fire
of the metaphorical dying flicker to the love life of our protagonist-
this is precisely what was prophesied
from a poet’s birthday candle wishes.

it’s funny how Lady Luck and cousin karma have this affair of misfortune;
capsizing all relationships—
that were set to sail—
hook-line-and-sinker stationary in an icy-burn isolation.

hopefully time can thaw out this doomed  autobiography (of a poetic confession trapped with 4 borders boring the audience awaiting the same confession)
he has been struggling to sense together,
since the first line that was typed…

—MAKING UP MY MIND—

so I stand up with a straight face—
swallow the frog and eat the butterflies for breakfast—
walk up to you with full intentions,
with a sly grin you echo the words I mummer; just as a mic in a crowed place,
I repeat in a shy broken throat-making me more of a fool from the words I chose-
latter to laugh
and just to write about
how embarrassing I made our very first date…

It’s been 16 years and you still look the same-
Our hearts have been far apart but you still remember my name...
Your perfume sticks to your skin-
This room is filled from moments of fortune from when...
I show you the calluses to prove the age I am-
I hold your face with a rough touch from a hurting man...
My guitar hums a familiar tune-
I need to leave this place perhaps later maybe soon...
/Liquid IV tips and taps down a plastic glass\
Look into my broken brown eyes - look past the sadness of this moment - realize since everyone else has disappeared I won’t disappoint - I will always stay and still be here
Forever and now until your very last moment

"𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩."
ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ
            
                      T̶o̶ l̶e̶a̶v̶e̶ a̶ d̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ m̶e̶m̶o̶r̶y̶
ᖴOᖇᘜOTTᗴᑎ Iᑎ Tᕼᗴ ᗪᑌᔕT

I want to surround you
take all the harm away
hum to you softly-
watch you drift to sleep from the melody...

I want to understand love
I will stop the bleeding if you **** the pain
I will fall down and confess my sins
only if you promise staying here next to me...

I’m not afraid of the midnight storms
I’m petrified for being abandoned and torn-
apart where my insides sit in the open-
and my decaying heart is seen as art to inspire your next poem...

I want to surround you
I want to remember a time I could forget
even if you call my words out as a paradox
I’ll stop singing sad songs if you will complete my duet...

you can't always fix
everything
even if it's meant to stay
broken
can you even reach
a heart
locked
in a glass case
destined
to crash
at the
depths
of the
ocean?

we did it guys!
                      
              or at least   -     coping pop    -     culture moments...
                                
                              my                                      happened
                                    t h e o r e m        h a s

wasted over a year
with evidence I do not have right here
but all my loyal fellow poet savants
know it

       m y  t h e s i s ,(!)                                    a l l  m y l i f e s                                       
                                     m y  m y s t e r y,(?)                             w o r k ,(!)

my theory of trending
from knowing Eliot's (selected) history
has saved and gained
my fame
for me
at least
for now
myself digitally

                                             T   F  O  O  L
                       W               U
                           O        O          
                              R   ,                <3
                                D

they said all I ever did
was to live by feeding off all your accomplishments,
that I was only a fiend-not your friend
but if they began from the beginning,
perhaps they'd understand...

I was just jealous-of your will and
determination,
to move on from the memories
and act as if they never did happen

8 months makes a memento
maybe that makes me pathetic-
to still be writing rhymes about you,
and lock you inside my head.

but-
don't you worry,
I'm about to move on
mister nobody will finally write his final lines.

The depth of the darkness you claimed to feel inside my eyes-
lead you straight to my secrets
and helped break through the seduction-façade-every lie...

I bet these brown burrows brought a sense of home
each time you laid in my arms it gave a sensation of hope

But poets are petty for guilt tripping those we claim
“we hold close”

however,
isn’t it unfair?
That I can’t fall asleep alone-
since my muse keeps holding my dreams for ransom-
every night infiltrates my subconscious
without an invitation...

I won’t put blame on you
it’s me who hates myself
for signing away happiness
trading it for selfish ***

I realized in the dusk of a darkening night,
when the rain enclosed a soggy emotion,
revelations of a cycle I have entrapped myself into-
came in spite of foggy-ill-ententions.

I had to leave and fill myself with hate
and pry you would feel the same before it’d be too late...

I hate how much I still love you, it honestly makes me sick.
apart of me wishes we could wipe the slate
and try another attempt.
but that’s the problem-it will never work

so sorry that I never learned and held onto the silence-I didn’t write all these lines to make you hurt
I know I must be a ****
giving you such simple things
like letters and gifts

keep something as a souvenir to remind you how it’s all meaningless stuff
for when the sun fades away - later today - there’s a chance {I will be considering} that you’ll actually be taking it all apart;
out of destruction-or embarrassment- the possibilities for you not to finish this note are endless...

but poetry is just words on dead trees
I speak in circles
for breakfast I’ll eat all my words
until I feel empty
then I’ll pour
every drop of this petty pain
into a symbolic rusted chalice
and drink until I get drunk-
off from my last soliloquy {that goes} ;

perhaps later in life - when we both reach our prime
we can sit down together and look each other in the eye
until then hate all the things I gave and took away from your life

in a bleak  betraying  whimsical way
I want to lay in the desolate snow with you.
paraphrasing how poets say
I want to grow old with you- so I’ll try:

<𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 & 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦>
melancholy = mediocrely
medicinal = manipulative
promises = broken    

clichés and critics say my love is predictable and scripted
that I’m foreshadowing tragedies or my muse is figurative
I never did well in English - but you made me pick up the pen
I never thought I’d fall in love - but you make me want to do it again

I care less who sees this - except you
I’ll just take another hiatus - until you tell me how good did I do?

humanity vs insanity;
a joke vs the punchline;
art captured in a single sentence-
such an inspiration seeing the beauty in pain-
a story of how life is;
absence vs abuse ;
addiction and his muse;
just one more semicolon to the self aware audience that this  triumph continues;
despondency of a tragic backstory leaves complacent agony of a stereo-typical-dictionary-picture-perfect-literary-school-subject­-finger-snapping-cloaked-poet-eddy-outcast-finger-poking-laugh-st­ock-lesser-person-desperate-feeling-introspective-adolescent-prot­agonist-of-the-1sided-tragic-heroic-epic-anthology-of-a-dark-mind­ed-online-persona-posting-exposed-person-caught-lurking-only-want­ing-something-someone(?)-person-love(?)-showing-only-rejecting-cr­iticism-critiquing-only-meant-toBe-helping-overthinking-over-thin­king…

Over
Thinking

do you remember
just after December,
two Scorpios
heading down an ol dusty road?
there they go
into the snow,
never to come to your front door.
how different would it be
if all I became was just a dormant memory?
would you have ever made that promise to your soul;
to pursue the purpose-when-in-mist
of a blizzard blow
to find the words of a birds songs
and hold that sound-
despite with every shiver felt-
when you heard the dying words in
each ever-eerie echo.
so
cover your ears
shut your eyes
for when you sleep
and wake tonight
the darkened sky will not cry
and shed those silent tears you call snow.
hide you pain in plain site
everyone walks over your flurry (I see their footprints)  
you love the cold even though
you never noticed you were the sun never meant to die alone
so shin with a smile-your's brings them new life.
don't rush-breathe slow,
for when the white burns a brighter-greener-ground
realize change will come soon.
just as the melting snow eventually fades-
through this cold will come a new age
and those memories of two simple Scorpios
will just be an opposite-day feeling
from when you achieve love and see yourself
as the glorious goddess you are
no longer will your heart be bleeding
in the season of the snow

I walked in through an endless door I never knew I’d know
a calm climatic state of inner calamity,  
walking ever so slow
more painful than a leisure stroll through a fire
but my body so cold and feet shuffle almost like through snow.
A self dramatic portrait of a moment
colors could never capture my emotional movement.
It never hit so hard
I never heard words leave so soon
did those words I even spoke?
How could I? When I was too red to breathe  
only air I swallowed kept my voice shut as smoke does
fire-emotional-exact
water-falling-returned
spirit-uncertain-end.

sell your guitar and forget your dreams.
tell your friends it was just make-believe.
𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕝𝕝 you were just a kid hitting a drum, in your uncles garage.
meanwhile your mom was drunk; and your dad was busy beating the dog.
people will always laugh at your tragedies...

so head to bed and try to get some sleep
I’m certain when you awaken things will still be the same; Father Time is always late to the first outing - that’s why destiny takes so long for things to change.

keep your spirits high - just like that time you waited on your parents for a ride.
remember in that parking lot? you talked to your shadow for nearly 3 hours while your mum & dad where still parked-in the driveway getting high off of  disappointment and “ HAᗺITƧ " ...

stay inside your head; it’s a safe space from all the craziness. Just remember your not alone because I too have dealt with this, I love you Lewis. Goodbye