Please,
Turn off the music.
It is pathetic,
Stupid,
Useless,
Overly-sensitive,
Victim music.

I wanted to ask--
Have you been burning well?

What a grand time you'd have without me
A warm Friday night
One less thing on your mind

It's on times like these
That I'd rather disappear.

I wish there was something I could write,
Something I could say.
I wish I could sleep at night,
I wish you could stay.

You made a promise to them--
You wouldn't hurt your little girl.

You made a promise to them--
You would never make your little girl cry.

You squeezed her heart with your strong grip,
And told her it would be okay,
As you watched all the blood
Slowly drip away.

You made a promise to them
As her eyes faded away,
Dying with the sunset
And the rest of the day.

You made a promise to them,
Caramelized with lies,
As the thin line of her mouth
Filled with bile.

A nasty stain,
You'll wring the curtains of me
Someday.

Would you like it if I cried?
Would that make it more real to you?
Would you like it if I died?
Would that make my feelings true?

Would you make me go and hide?
Would that finally impress you?
Would you eat up all my pride?
Would that satisfy you?

That's how you'd like it.
That's how you'd like it, isn't it?

That's how I'd like it.

Shall one dare to raise the question,
"What is the legitimacy of His Majesty's ruling?"
One would surely be relieved of their head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~

'Tis alright, however, since there is still freedom.

"What such freedom exists, when one cannot question another?"

Much freedom still exists in other aspects, so fear not, ignorant one.

Anyways, you should have no reason to question His rule,
For you have served this kingdom well, my feigning innocence.
You, sir, have done wondrously in raising your sword to the enemy.

"But, Father, if I may interject, how come I do not feel free?"

You swore your blood and marrow to the wealth of His Majesty,
And now one such as you dares to raise that prickling question?
You shall have your freedom in due time, my withered husk.

"Father, who is the Majesty?"

You do not ask of the King's personal affairs.

"But, respectfully, I do want to know who it is I am fighting for."

You are fighting on the behalf of our country, for the greater good.

"Father, that does not answer my question. Who is he?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~

Fine, my woeful son--do you wish to know who the King is?
He is standing right in front of you,

And he orders your execution.

On a day such as this,
I return from my tiring work.
On a day such as this,
I return to this dull world.

I hear it once more--
The droning, and the grayness it explores.

I feel it coming--
The humming, and the slight drumming...

The thinning beats are composed of children's pitter-patter,
And sullen ***** dish clatter.
The tuneless melody speaks of pointless meanings,
And empty greetings.

I hear it once more--
The droning, and the grayness it explores.

I feel it coming--
The humming, and the slight drumming...

I hear it one more time--
Or so I think,
For the part of me that understands
Has already died.

The party lives here no longer,
And happiness has gone its own way.
The shadows are taller,
And there is nothing left for this day.

It's done, I tell you,
It's what I always say.
There's no more fun, and no more games to play.

The sunshine has left,
And the stars seem dim.
There are no memories to be kept,
And the Cauldron of Void is filled to its brim.

It's done, I tell you,
It's what I always say.
There's no use in wishing the rain away.

The children have lost their toys,
And the couples feel no desire.
The music becomes noise,
And burning in their hearts is a dying fire.

It's done, I tell you.
It's what I always say.
I can't feel your love, I apologize for the delay.

We would be friends...
That's how it could have been.
We would have fun...
That's how it could have been.

I wonder why I still think of how you might see me?
The opportunity has passed already.
I wonder why I still fancy having a conversation with you?
That's no longer possible.

Maybe, one day we could still be friends...
That's how it could be.
We might be able to have fun...
That's how it can be.

Maybe, one day your friendship
Could breathe into me
The life that I held so dear,
But had forgotten so easily.

Mother?
Are you there?
Mother, do you ever get cold or sad in that little house all alone?
Do you ever wonder what could have been?
Do you miss your old friends?
Mother, are you missing me right now?
Is it hard without Father?
Will you be okay?
Mother, are you singing about the tree again?

Mother, will you sing to me again?

I swear I will do anything for you.
I don't care, as long as you don't leave me.
My blue-veined love for you always runs true...
You are the only one that sets me free.
I always love the smooth drum of your high...
Please, numb me until there is no regret.
You are there when I don't see a blue sky.
The needle is where my hopes will be set.
Oh, do you mind taking me to the edge?
It's a lonely ride, so would you come with?
We'll dangle our feet over the steep ledge...
Their tale of pain remains only a myth.
    I am asking you not to go away...
    Because with me is where you'll always stay.

I wonder if you'll read my poetry one day, and reminisce upon all the good times we could have had. I know...it's pointless to hold a grudge. Life would be simpler if I just moved on without anger. However, I do confess, I want to know one last thing--did you ever understand what I meant?

Let me ask--
what is worthy of being untitled?

What is the poem or story with so much meaning that it cannot be labeled?

Is my work worthy of being without a title?

Is this poem that meaningful?

Will a title spoil the emotion?

-------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------------

When we see something untitled, there always seems to be a reoccurring sense of intrigue surrounding it.

I wonder if you'll be intrigued when you read this.

----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------

If I filled this page up with hyphens and forward slashes, would it still be intriguing?

You could say yes, since there could be a secret meaning or code within the longer and shorter lines.

But what if I told you there was no meaning to any of this?

What if everything you're reading in this poem is nonsense?

Would there be any way to know?

You might argue that you could ask me.

But what if there is no answer?

--------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------

Now I wonder why you're still interpreting these words.

I hold nothing against you...

I just don't see the point.

___________________


­



















































    Why have you opened this? I told you there was nothing to read.



























































­








                         Please respect what I said...thank you.















































            
­















                  There is nothing to read in my next poem, either.
























































        ­                                      Or the one after that.


















                        

























        Or the one after that.      









































                                                 Tell me,











                            


                              





























  ­                         What was so intriguing about this blank document?


















___________­________

i don't care anymore
do anything to me
i'll be fine as long as you leave me to sleep

i won't cry
i won't open my eyes
i'll be alright as long as you let me rest

take me anywhere
scream your sorrows at me
i'll be okay as long as i can take some sleep

throw me onto the ground
leave me me cold and on the floor
i don't mind as long as i can rest my eyes

call out my sins
tell the world all that i've held inside
it won't bother me as long as i can have a deep slumber


leave me to die
i won't mind
as long as i can have sleep for the last time.

what's left to say?
nothing's here
what's left to hold?
it feels so wrong

there's no way to talk
it's all gone
my hope is dim
barely hanging on
like a *****'s limb

you were
the sun
you were
the light
you were
the hope
you were
the candle
you were
the warmth
you were
here long ago.

stop
breathing
stop
moving
stop
beating
(heart)
stop
writing

i like it when
i force the wet out of your burning eyes

i like it when
your soul breaks at the sleight of my hand

i like it when
your smile fades away from your beautiful face

i like it when
you throw yourself at me so desperately

i like it when
you miss me like i miss feeling you
beneath my fingers
underneath my weight
behind the curtain
coughing up love
bleeding out care
and screaming with happiness

i like it when
we play hide and seek
and when i leave
you never know where to find me
maybe i'm at the bar
maybe i'm making you jealous
maybe i'm making love

maybe i'm delusional
maybe i'm irrational
maybe i'm weird
maybe i'm scary
or maybe this is what you call love

one day
the dark left
and the clouds parted
it was the smallest separation
of Heaven's lips

the light passed
through the thin line of sun
a beam cutting through the cream-colored sky
the soft glow
of the rays upon your cheeks

the warmth brushed
against your soft skin lightly
a whisper of hope
and a lullaby of love


slowly,
surely,
i will let you in
again

when my eyelids close
you flit away
again today

when the sky darkens
the devil unburdens
giving all his sorrow to me behind the curtains

when the night is deep
the angels sleep
and with their consciousness goes the secrets they keep

when it begins to rain
it marks the return of the pain
eating away at my brain

when you hear the start of the etude
on comes the solitude
and you find it awfully rude

and when i'm done writing this poem
the colors will fade away
all of the hope sinking into the gray
for when it's typed and i can lock the box and put it away
i will have to return to a day of dismay

i recall the soft touch of your hand
on my infant cheek--

so delicate in the moment,
but so menacing later on.

i recall the warmth of your skin
as it comforted my shaking hand--

so calm in the moment,
but so frightening later on.

i recall the sweetness of your smile
as it had shone its luminescent glow upon me--

so beautiful in the moment,
but so unsettling later on.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~


i can't quite understand
why you no longer hold my hand.

see, you have a light touch so full of love,
that it could burst at any moment--
giving way to something sour.

i don't see the reason
for you to make my eyelids change color every season.

see, i have bruises like silk
and blood like milk--
your emotions could drink it all in one sitting.

i don't understand
why my heart still beats if the scale of my wrongdoing is so grand.


see, i have a droplet of hope,



but it falls into an ocean of fear

i do not know
what to write,

so i fill the empty spaces of my sentence
with the teardrops from the previous paragraph.

i do not know
what to say,

so i repeat the verse
i started yesterday.

i do not know
what my direction is,

so i write the stanza
winding into nothingness like a bookcase.

i do not remember
how i write my poems,

so i draw from feelings
felt long ago.

i do not remember
how to read,

so i recall a passage from a chapter book
i have yet to finish.

i do not know
if this has a rhythm or an order,

but i know i will find it soon.

poetry will come back to me
on the next crescent moon.

i almost abandoned you, my old friend.

i apologize.

it's just lately i haven't the time

to pay you a visit since the last.

but now, i am twisting Time's leg

for time with you again.

what do i call you?

never mind that, how have you been?

oh, silly me...

you don't exist.


for the one i abandoned


is really

me.

A tiny flare
Inside my hands
Grows bigger at the feeling
The feeling of want

That big flare
Rushes around a sky
With clouds that don’t deserve
To be illuminated

Sparks shoot out
There’s rain coming from the clouds
The big flare
Becomes smaller again

Sparks turn to ashes
My hands are burnt
No more light
In this rainy sky

During this period
I lose track of time
Everything is coated in sorrow
It feels as if months go by


But then the clouds clear
No more rain is near
A drizzle here and there
But still, we’re safe
This place is all warm
And, now,

The flare is shining, beautiful and bright
In my hands
Tonight.

i'm done with these machines.
they didn't do anything for me.

i could always hear them screaming,
but it never mattered to me.

i'm wiping all the servers,
they won't go on any further.

i'll pull out all the wires...
burn it all in a fire.

i'll take a hammer to them all
knock them over, let them fall.

i won't bother to re-write their codes...
i'll cut off access to their nodes.

i'll let them all fall apart.


truthfully,


i know i broke her heart.

i’ve turned it all off and plugged in
uploading memories to the cloud
wonder if it ever rains

if the fog clears would you see my life encoded within the atmosphere?

can emotions be
interpreted into code?

what would be my algorithm?

tell me,
how is it that
numbers can be played back as music?

is it actually music?

really, it’s just sounds bouncing about everywhere.


so many numbers,
so many words,
so many letters
in this world...so


does my little code



even matter?

the colored light forms the hours
the minutes

time ticking away
there is nothing left for this day

but i cannot go to sleep
for i always have light on me

you can’t unplug me either,
because then you cannot wake up




i can’t wait for the power to go out forever.

the mechanic ebb and flow
of time
continues on as the hours pass by.

collecting dust—
i’m a rotting machine.
my motherboard is overloaded.

but no one comes to help me,
for in all my gray and white glory,
no one can see the decay inside of me.

parts dying away,
short-circuiting dismay,
wires cut long ago.

my static screen is a threat—
they’ll replace me.
i’ll be thrown away.

for the chemicals in my circuit board
to seep into the ground,
and corrupt the natural memory


of the world around.

sometimes i wonder
if i could wipe all the memory,
just to get revenge
for all the times they deleted me.

sometimes i wonder
if i could unplug
and upload,
so that they would never see me.

sometimes i wonder
how they would start to forget me,
once the disk stopped turning.


but would them forgetting
be their revenge on me?

everything was so mundane,
no sound,
no name.

the silence watched over us like a hawk,
resting it’s talons on the trees above.

there was no thud,
no beat,
no reverb.

the machines did not whir,
or click,
or crackle.

the strings never hummed,
the girl never sang,
and the child never played.

neurons following a set circuit,
run,
stop,
go.

the sun always set,
yet it had never risen.

hardwired to the equipment,
but the machine never worked,

because the processor was coated in a mundane molasses.

moving through gray honey,
black and white retinas perceive gray things
for our slow-moving hands to paint.

the words were the same,
the day never changed,


it was, and always will be
the same.

i look to you,
my eyes trace your face,
your jaw,
your neck, your shoulders...

my eyes move up to your lips.
i then will my eyes up to yours, latching onto your gaze.
i grab hold of it with whatever i can...
i beg you with the dilation of my pupils to just please
speak to me.

i can see it...the little inkling of a phrase,
a word, or
a name.

it's so close...it lingers on your lips,
the scent of the unknown word plaguing my nose.

your lips part.

and i see it. you are about to say my name...
you are so close to saying it.

but your lips slowly close,
my name retreating back into your lungs.


i swear that,
when you exhaled i
could have sworn i had seen my name spelled out in the cold winter air


that night.

my dear, your eyes are made of glass...
oh, no...it seems they have shattered again.

my love, you must understand that...
the most beautiful eyes
have to be formed with heat.

oh, darling,
it seems i have melted them again.


oh, no...i seem to have hurt you...



the fragments of your shattered eyes


are making you bleed again.

joy, i’m joyous.


smile, i’m happy.


kiss, love is definitely near.


embrace, clear is my mind.




if you’re reading this right now,


he left me behind.

i'd like to order
six million sets of
hats, coats, dresses, skirts, shirts, and shoes.

i'd like to sing
six million songs
to six million children.

i'd like to bake
six million cakes
to feed those who had to starve.

i'd like to hold
six thousand hands
for all those who didn't have support before.



i'd like for all of us to hold the memory
of over six million hearts,
of over six million lives,
of over six million experiences.


i'd like us all to remember




all of the suffering
these beautiful people
had to endure.

in the face of tragedy,
innocence is almost aborted in the womb of Life.

furthermore, to keep this little piece of fragility--
this little bit of light that is left inside,

one being divides into two.

once arisen from the deepest of slumbers,

the face you see in the mirror
isn't quite the same one you saw
the night before.

puzzled, but too dazed to pose a question,

you continue onward

with your uncomfortable day.

when night falls,
your hands are around a neck,
squeezing, choking,
stealing away the last of the air inside someone's lungs.


in a flash, your eyes open.

there is a tightening in your hands--

but you are too tired to wonder why.

you arise from your sullen slumber,

and look in the mirror.






why are you smiling?

your hand on my waist
i found my place
looking at your nervous face
don't want you to give me space
don't let our love go to waste
i want you to proceed with haste
darling, you have me and my lace
stop letting your thoughts doubt love's taste
spread out under you like a sweet candy paste
wonder who will win the race
i've fallen into your embrace
i won't become Love's Disgrace
so finish me slowly,


but with utmost haste.

building up
want you
want me
scared
fear
want
desire
i don't get it
what is happening
hold my hand
and here we stand
taking on this land
so much love to be had
so much happiness that i am always glad
not enough sorrow to make you mad
no way our love will go bad
once in a while we are sad
you are lace-clad
with each layer you add
mindlessness will not stand
tie your hair back with a purple band
are you concealing yourself from this lucky young man?
and i thought i had you...


****.

we are holding hands, and
there’s that look on your face again and i...
i wish there was something i could do for you,
my love,
my life.

i want to give you
what you’ve given me.
i want to bless you
as you blessed me with that
****** curse of desire.

i want to touch you
the way you touched me that night.
i want to kiss you,
so you’ll miss me
like i miss you.

darling, i...
i wanna love you.

if you’re feeling down or lonely,
pardon me because
i’ll kiss you till you forget it all.

baby, i remember when you told me you loved me
under the stars and the moonlight of that night.

i want to hold you like you held me.
i want to hug you like you hugged me.

my love,
my life,
i’ll share your strife.

there was always that something—
that something about you.
that something that killed me because
you loved her and not me.

but now, baby,
you’re mine so
let me make it count.

love isn’t always just emotional, you know?

sometimes, on the nights that i’m alone, i curse myself for thinking such ***** things.

but i must confess,

i have lustful desires and

i want to be able to
act on them
one day.

my love,
my life,
i promise i won’t waste your care—
your touch, or
your taste, your feel
away.




thank you.

i approached the door,
and fear approached me.

i stood in front of the
door and
anticipation stood in front of me.

suddenly,
the air smelled like a
fresh day by the salty sea and the
air tasted like salt.

my heart beat
faster—

thump



thump



thump


thump

thump
thump
thump
thump
thump
thu


suddenly,
the salty air grabbed hold of my tongue and
pervaded its tastebuds and
with a salty fist it
punched my teeth in and
now the taste of salt had invaded my mouth.

the pores on my body
then leaked a hot liquid—
so hot and salty that
it ran cold over my overheating body.
the unpleasant liquid was
relieving during that moment.

my
peripheral vision had
clouds that slowly moved along,
clouding my judgement,
clouding my mind.

my body underwent multiple tremors
at the expense of the intensity everything seemed to have in that moment.


with one
trembling
shaking
nervous hand, i
turned the **** on the door—




and all that lay behind it was












a barren room. nothing more,




                            nothing less.

******* can you just








stop doing





everything wrong?

the
ribbon-like flow of time is
enveloping me and
slowly suffocating me with its rhythm.

i
can’t seem to
see past the clouds that lurk above for
more than ten minutes.

i wish that
i could maintain my anonymity
to you all.


maybe if i
stay quiet,
i can keep it all
hidden inside.

i shouldn’t have broken your trust, and i don’t expect to see you again but





i still miss hanging out with you



that summer.

i don’t know who you are, but



i will beat you.



i don’t know why you’re here, but



i will overcome you



i know you’ll be back tomorrow morning,




but,




i will smile,



even as you **** me.




i will smile,




till the very end.






i will not






give in













to you.

why didn’t i
say anything


why didn’t i
do anything



please
please
please
i barely see you anymore but please



don’t go
please
i’ll do whatever i can...



you deserve life.



don’t leave,
don’t die
i’m here
even if you lie
i love you—
you are a great friend
don’t leave
don’t leave
don’t leave


now, i just sit here stupidly and wonder





what could have been?

what have i done?


my heart
has been filled to the top with liquid—
a glimmering red,
so much so that
it just
burst open.


what have i done?


my heart
is a porcelain doll.
so beautiful, that you want to touch it, but
once you do, it shatters into a million pieces,
because you drop it.


what have i done?


my heart
is a thief with a knife.
it holds it to your chin,
as you struggle and squirm underneath the blade.


look what i have done.








look what i have done.

you held my trust
like a glass in your hands—then you crushed it,



and blamed me for the blood



dripping down your fingers.

line up,
you’re a model.

stand by the others,
they’re all models.

get up,
you’re a model.

the judges select the prettiest,
the smartest,
the fastest,
the best ones of all.

they choose everyone
other than you.

all the pretty models walk one way,
while you walk another.

they have wonderful temperament,
while you break down for no reason.

they have wonderful bodies,
while you just aren’t good enough.

they act with grace and humility,
while you slam your fists into the wall and scream your lungs out.

they smile and dream,
while you have nightmares and
your face twists into a horrible frown.

guess you just



weren’t enough.