दिनै आं 5-40 रिँगायाव सिखारदोँ
खेबसे सिखारनायनै उन्दुफिन्दोँ
मानोना दामानि जोबोद गुसु
आरो 6-20 रिँगायावसो सिखारफिन्दोँ
सिखारनायनि उनाव आङो दुब्लियाव
माथाम मोसौखौ खाहैदोँ
फैफिननानै देहानि थाखाय दान्दिसे गेलेदोँ
हाथाइ मानजिना मोखां सुनानै
8-25 रिँगायाव फुंनि ओँखाम जादोँ
बिजाब फरायदोँ दोँनैसो खन्थाइ लिरदोँ
11-36 रिँगायाव साननि ओँखाम जादोँ
बिनि उनावबो आङो बिजाब फरायदोँ
1-16 रिँगायाव आफाजोँ खामानि मावफादोँ
मारा होनो थाखाय माय बजा जाबदोँ
बिनि उनाव दुगैनानै गानै जोमै
दुब्लिनि मोसौखौ लायनानै
न'नि गलियाव खाफैदोँ
बिनि उनाव बिजाब फरायदोँ
7-30 रिँगायावनो मोनानि ओँखामखौ जादोँ
बिनि उनाव आङो बिजाब फरायदोँ
9-40 रिँगायाव उन्दुनो एमसिम।

दिनै फुंआवनो सिखारदोँ आं
5 रिँगा 30 मिनिट गोग्लैबायमोन
फुंनि जानायखौ थाबैनो जादोँ
साननि जानायखौबो थाबैनो जादोँ
जोँ आय-आफा आब' आं जयैनो
दिनै आं जेरावबो थांनाय जायाखिसै
सानसे न'आवनो थाबाय
जाया जाया दोँनैसो खन्थाइ लिरनो हादोँ आं दिनै
मोखां लाइसिनि गेजेरजोँ फोसावनाय जादोँ
बेलासियाव जोँना दिनै माय मारा होदोँ
6 रिँगानिफ्राय 7 रिँगासिम आंबो गोसो जाना आफाजोँ मदद होफादोँ
माय मारा होनाय समाव आब'आ गायखेरनि साहा फुदुंना स्राय लोँहोदोँमोन
लोगोआव गुरनै गुरनै बिसुखुद
मोनाबिलिनि जानायखौ थाबैनो जानाय जादोँ
7-30 रिँगायावनो जाखांदोँ आं
ओंख्रिया सबाय बिमासोमोन
ओँखाम जाखांनानै दान्दिसे जिरायबाय
बिजाब फरायनाय जायाखिसै दिनै
दान्दिसेनि उनाव उन्दुनो एमाव गाखोयो आं
मानोना दासान्दि जोबोद गुसुनिफ्राय गुसुसिनथार बोथोरा।

In quiet and empty nights I am like small breaths sitting still in the air. Something pulls and I sink into this bed. Loosening fibers. This feeling aches, it lingers, the seeds sprout. I am no longer I -- the form detaches. Thoughts visit momentarily and take flight. Take me hostage, I will not fight. Dreams are not so bitter and so I dream of an unknown world where we can keep our timid hearts in some sample of skin, maybe when we pass. And then like most things that grow vertically, we will fall to our knees. A tree will take our place and speak of us now and again. Oh how I wish it could be now!

Words come to me at twilight: I have bouts of thoughts where I imagine letting others in my cold, little room: to view the black paint splattered on the walls, the cracks on the floor, the trails that lead to raw, unfinished dreams. Other days - and more frequently - I’m like a board made of great, exemplary wood. I resist the outside. I do not know what I want, only what I need. And I need silence, forests of solitude, and souls that have substance and depth. Rare things. And to watch the birds that know of nests, at every sunset, so that maybe some remainder of feathers can find their way back to me.

Center piece
Inner peace
Acknowledging the drifting seams
Blood shot eyes
My soul it cries
It sobs
It wails
It's scared to
I'm scared too ...

What comes after z?
Loves favorite enemy
Sentimental memories
It's all coming back now
Hovering clouds
Rip me inside and out
Doubts drowning in doubt
Don't let it fall
Let it fly
Let if prosper
Let it thrive
Let it ...

The Day Of:
Dear diary,
She broke up with me..

2 Days Later:
Dear diary,
What kind of person can love you so much one day, and then be head over heels for another the next?

2 Months Later:
Dear diary,
I still love her.

2 Years Later:*
Dear diary,*
She still loves her.

I write poetry to pass the time,
Seeking solace in a silly rhyme.
Reminds me how alone I am,
And how no one really gives a ****.

Looking for therapy,
I find an ease momentarily.
Hoping for peace to put things on paper instead,
Except I realize they're still in my head.

Nagging and gnawing, the words won't retreat.
My thoughts are a burden,
Slowly killing me.