a propensity for death.
a propensity for love.
a propensity for violence.
all of which connect to one another
without anyone noticing.
chaos brings death —
chaos brings love —
chaos comes from violence.
behaviors unpredictable,
having come from a certain purpose.

you stay in my dreams, day and night.
you keep me awake during ungodly hours
when, supposedly, i am sleeping.
you walk along in my lucid dreams,
and i feel more awake than ever.
you leave traces behind,
and when i see you again as a non abstract being,
you are oblivious.
i am kept haunted by your untouchable presence,
and it is slowly bringing my mind to death.

he sits unrequited.
he stays where one could see him,
but not where one would acknowledge him.
he stays in a circle,
existence and presence known by those close to him.
he stays unbothered.
acknowledged or not—
he remains there.

like the bits of coffee
i hold in my hand,
you leave a mark of bitterness —
a trace of warmth.

like the sugar i sprinkle
into my stained cup,
you create a tingling sense of sweetness —
a pinch of heartfelt sensation.

in the same stained cup i stare;
into the void drink sitting cold.
bland as a lack of emotion as there can be,
the coffee sits bitter with no taste.

the cubes of sugar stay in their packet
left untouched,
left unsaid.

stirs and stirs,
the coffee stayed tasteless,
the sugar stayed useless,
and my mouth stayed dry.

in that moment i never realised how one
was longing for the other—
like a pair waiting to be meshed.

the sweet entered the bitterness,
and soon,
sparks of flavor dissolved in what was once bland.

it was unthought of that something so dull
and something so wholesome
would create the perfect combination—a bittersweet faith of an uprising.

maybe the fault was mine. maybe i shouldn’t have done it in the first place. maybe it would’ve been better if i had let myself be.
perhaps i should have destined myself to be alone. perhaps i should have stayed quiet. perhaps i should have stopped fumbling with my fingers so much.
it came and went, but i wish it had went forever. i wish i hadn’t been infatuated with him. i wish he had never been infatuated with her. i wish i had let myself be.

they observed the world
like it was to end tomorrow.
from people
to plants
to kittens roaming the streets
to them.
them: feelingless boys.
boys of no observing nature..
passing by like unwanted pulp.
whispering about them like no end
only to have another observe them.

he was the sun that rose at five.
he was the one who resembled the fiery strokes.
he had a laugh that could shake the earth.
his voice boomed throughout the lands of daisies and primroses.
his constant jittering and moving kept me awake and aware as my eyes wandered over his confused movements.
his eyes wandered wherever like mine but was never to mine — to others.
his pupils flicked for a moment to mine and was suddenly, in a long second, long gone.