Your every word etched in my memory
Your every action burned in my mind
I hope we'd go on, not fade into history
I thought you'd be the same all the time

Did you think I could forget
All the times we had together
Since the very moment we met
I foolishly prayed it'd be forever

But you've forgotten all we were
How we could connect in every way
You remembered you had a string of girls
Vying for your attention every day

Don't think I'll always be here
Waiting for you to remember me
I've realized you never held me dear
You never thought of what we could be

PROLOGUE –

Silliness becomes a later suffering, if only tinkered by potion –

PART I –

A contractual moment whilst halos best remain hung on the hat rack since devils taste so much better. Bitter but belated, ritual yet related, so to in avoidance, fleeing anything that’d mimic life, “ideal;” perfect being a, “nine-five,” during which, “monkeyed with,” comes to a peak and a valley’s once more, a lack of control. A tailspin wherein one truth can become just a shy more intangible mere seconds later – We can see it, we can smell it and we can almost touch it – so allows the specter, the hand holding drink, and later, permitted, for our nakedness to play once more.

PART II –

Four more down and a few gin-fueled gestures later, we stumble upon but one edible truth, an apple and, “sin,” repeated thousand-fold – so succumbs you and a parallel I atop our empty and, “precious,” wants carnal. We masticate and learn to destroy the TV – naked, begrudged and bent over the boxes we worship. We annihilate the machines. We profane the dependencies; placation and participation wrought this artificial coercion, once a friend and now an object – a disdain, a thievery, a prison, vicarious and to be avoided by all costs.

PART III –

Human interaction and fluidic free choice soon become the new, “in,” the primal addiction amongst the bottles of tequila, *****, and plain-old beer. Our grinning, in the flesh and not in pixel, must and will rise like the places we’ve so very poisoned. Here and now, we care. We have to care, because if we don’t, it’s all for nothing. So we top the night twisted, simply breathing, where the smog isn’t seen, but it’s there. We top the night tethered, where the rain doesn’t burn, it believes. And we top the night innocent, and among stars, both in the sky and entangled the heart beating my right,

EPILOGUE –

For the time being, just being, where all seemed right, a little twisted, but wiser nonetheless.

broken words and wilting bodies,
that's us, a messy generation of
glassy eyes and bulletproof souls.

i've been texting people for a connection.
our bodies search for vibrations,
short and electric but its an elaborate show.
who are these folks behind the curtains?
and through these notes, i am certain.
i cant write anything of substance.
i keep seeing your name and i try to change it
into something insignificant.
but that which we call a rose,
right?
i keep trying to escape it
but my handwriting is no legible font.
no respectable medium to my professor.
i cant keep in between the margins
how would they know the amount?
did i plagiarize the way i wrote
"I miss you." ?
so, we type.
remove the writer. its about the content.
did i cite your absence right?
is this journalism, biography or *******?
it must not true, ****.
but my fingertips reach
short distances on the keys
of my devices
and we type.
hashtag notice us, hashtag test us back,
are we connected yet?

The suitcase
After unzipped
Was thrown off a cliff
While all were blindfolded
And obligated
To only hear the sounds

In a clinic, getting treated for amnesia of the soul,
I meet her, by chance and feel a sense of deja vu,
but can't place her properly,from which age do you appear?
you sure are her. Your face is familiar, even after ages,
then you ask me whether I remember; in my brain
solar flair like magnetic energy, light up hidden spaces.
The red poppy design, isn't it a pointer enough?
"The poppy effect.My insignia won't allow to forget
though I too fall in to a forgetfulness described as divine"
In a moment, it happens, I tumble down parting
thick clouds of stardust memories,fleeting, yet haunting,
intoxicating scent of poppies, ***** haze  takes me over

youth was the country, we've been banished from long time back,
I destroyed my passport, in an angst, that can never be expressed,
I land on my legs, flying down,before her curious eyes and smile,
interplanetary voyagers, we hardly know what happens to us,
like a poem with images broken as seeds  and spawn.

I was the naked man on your bed, the day you came in
under the cover of darkness, made love heartily till the morn,
you mourned aloud, I didn't stop you, no taboo,threatened me,
and you said, would never forget the play of natural instincts.
in many places we met, in some strangers, others as lovers,
each night different, with our bodies regaling in ****** finger play,
we sat opposite, had dinners, joked about blind dates, being swapped,
promised to be in touch soon and properly date, though not compelled,
to find out more about ****** habits and ,decide where to meet.

At the time of a heist, notorious, we meet in a diamond showroom,
you thought I am the kind pin that pulls the string.A mole I suspected
you were, though confident in duping you one more sweet time.
In this world of make believe, you can take me as any avatar you think.
Converging in each other's eyes, we reconcile and forgive. for this life
You whisper, "Ï knew you were a nihilist"Ẃe were, that and more,
exploring the core,till the essence inexplicable, will be  clear.

Appreciating a glass of fine wine, we sit opposite,to each other.
we shake hands and I see you off, from an underground station,
to a galaxy, light years away,called Pinwheel, a cosmic  spiral,
then, I realize, we don't exist, you , me or whoever think they are,
when we insist, we exist, forget it brother,only eternity, nothing else.

I don't want to think about you
So I read about the latest Plane Crash

Talking to you is riding a roller coaster
I can feel the adrenaline
i remember the crash

Of the waves
And a bath/ a shower
It doesn't matter
No water is hot enough
To wash your flesh a  w     a       y

Underground
Hair still growing
My curls fall like the fibonacci sequence
Convincing me there's some pattern to this madness

And now
All that's left is
A mirror, a maus, and a Cashmere Cat

As I look up, sad,
snap. nerves snap and neurons in my head,
finally I am there
I know what I want, nay, need.
It is connection, to sink myself into
the roots of the Earth and it's societies
take steps, whole or half
and just be
be connected
stay connected
alas, distraction.
always distractions. never can I stay.
never do I have control.
can I return?
spiraling. thoughts evolve and yet decay
all while
I think, am I ruined? why do this to myself?
connect. feel. enjoy. last. love.
ignore all else
deep, true
connections
they have it, they can do it
why don't I have it
it is too soon, time will pass I will get there once
again I assure myself but when, when will it be real?
I worry that it's over, I worry that I'm alone.
how does it work, why can't I find it
be connected
stay connected
connect
notes up and down guide me through
that gray matter that
dark gray matter
the Encephalon.
it does not matter
it will get better
*connect