You may spill your secrets
Like the beads of the amulet necklace
And I pick them up submitting to what I know
Is purpose since before the dawn of separateness
I am a gypsy, the healer,
I see beyond what you know
Beyond rational I feel with precision
The gift of insight from beyond
The power that spills over
I am yet to learn how to hold
It's reigns
Of my own eyes that strike and scare
As a judgement you would write above
Your own grave
You are a lost soul
Who seek answers in me
I get lost under this projected weight
But at the bottom of your eyes I find the answer
To my purpose and I know your essence
Better than I know mine - the tormenting question mark of it
And I can only find peace if I give you
What universe wants to give
So free the illusion I am not here to romance
But to serve my purpose
Which I doubt but cannot deny
And until it is fulfilled
I am filled to the brim
With unknown

i loathe
long, sappy,
poems of love

the thrumming heart
set ablaze
by a woeful look
and predictable
exclamations
of desire...

                bore me

the
'can't live withouts'
           and
'without you i'm nothings'
make me want
to puke

i don't care about you

and
the all you've given

the trust that was tampered with?
   your fault

the constant lies
   your stupidity

the unfulfilled need
   could've been sought elsewhere

and that hole in your heart...
could've been filled by you
           a long
    time
ago.

I remember sitting with my legs crossed
at an empty parking lot with you.
Burning our lungs,
sharing our deepest secrets at 3am
while I rest my head
on your shoulder that cold summer night.
I sang along our favorite songs
and you wished that time stopped
so we could still be together.

But alas,

You are still too damaged.
You think too much.
You are too practical.
You are not yet ready for anything.

And I’m left confused
and angry
and frustrated
and a little bit hurt, I guess.

So here we are again,
so here we go again.

Who would have thought
that we would actually
burn even faster
than our cigarettes?

                                                    ­                        
 — apbq

battlefield after battlefield trying to fight through a screen with words that are so sharp they could pierce a bullet proof vest and shoot a man's heart dead, remember when we used to argue about things like who takes more sugar instead?

running away from problems like my shoes can afford to do that, like my feet have memorised the feelings of stones beating against them, like my body has learned the rhythm of something other than how it reacts when it's against yours, really I'm lying to myself in a drawn out way because somewhere I heard a slower death gives you time to appreciate life a bit more

blame falling on he who cares the most, they taught me to love was a weapon and how was I supposed to know that it could truly **** what was there, living in the cold spaces and silence between us when we were lying in the bed and I couldn't imagine my life any different

everything happens for a reason but reasons aren't given for everything; I'm sorry but I just can't accept an end built on only atoms and empty screens