would it be easier for you
not to see me at all
would you like to forget me
even if not for the sake of moving on
just to make it easier
is it hard to have known me, loved me
and for everything to be different now?
yes

My insides smell like
Cinnamon

But taste
like
wilted

flower petals;
Dry,
bland,
Dead, gone,
Desaturated colours
in my pupils

I melt into a pile of ash in
The ground

With the rest of the infertile soil,
With the insects
With the lush green grass
and the birds
and their nests full of twigs
And chirps
And songs
And hums
And sounds
That echo
That resound
That stay
That fly

With the sky.
Buried with my name.

Until it turns to night,

Then the
moon
and
stars

come out

And
I

Hide

A

W

A

Y

.

There you go my beloved friend, I let you go
to the unspoken words,
to the unrequited love
to the embarrassments and the need to be right
between unsaid words and unmet eyes - I let you go.
I give you up to the embarrassment and the right doings,
What shall I do with the ocean of feelings I hold inside that I thought I will express them one day.
I thought volcanoes erupt flood gates open but this love of mine will die inside me
by disintegrating and killing me day by day hour by hour - paining me with its every shrink.
That’s what I hold for you. Alas, you will never know.

10-24-24   9:41pm

find me within the meadows, where the grass grows tall and birds migrate to escape winter

hear me between each verse of your favorite song, the one that replays and brings you peace

remember me like the feeling of nostalgia, how it sneaks up on you when you smell the scent of blown out birthday candles


I'm the laughter you dream of that echos off the walls
the bird song of evening as the sun sets
the ticking clock on your nightstand that never dies

someone you will never forget
even if you tried

moment of weakness, of carelessness
a scintillating sparkling spark and then--
"****!"

it all gushes out,
you poke and touch and squeeze
more. more more. addicted.
red brushstrokes in its wake, like Monet
wave the finger around to strangers!!

someone tells you to wash it off
the blood dotting the silver band, the written pages of scribbled font
not the right time, not the right person.
so they say, so they scrub with soap
--i'm taking it all back.

it stings now, doesn't it?
the shame, humiliation mixed in.
can't even twitch without the hissing pain
war veteran or loveless child
lethe, oh, lethe.

brush away the wilted petals from time to time
fine, it only hurts when you remember how
but the scar lingers--will linger.
as a teenager longs for soft eyes,
i do for you.

My brain operates like my messaging skills
Typed out my heart.
Deleted every word.
Forgotten.

I suppose I should cling to what I feel
But the moment they surface they feel
Too unreal
So I delete them from my head
Watch them until they're dead
Forget that it's ok to feel

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******

forget the critics
the naysayers
the reviews

forget those who pounce
at first glance with
unsolicited feedback

forget those who wait
with serrated edges
for the unveiling
of your back

forget those who lambaste
and castrate your creativity

or worse, those who
try to help you
improve it

and then there are those who
uplift and support your work

say thank you
and
forget them
too.

forget about polishing the knobs
off the editors of poesy or
the literary brotherhood
and sisterhood

forget about your friends,
your enemies and
your audience
all together

they are a cough drop
trying to cure an illness

do it
the way it was meant to be done:
without obtrusion
without approval
without asking

don’t allow them
to cloud your mind
with judgment
of any kind

do what makes you happy
and the rest be ******.

As you step into my world, forget the girl
I once was. here I'm a goddess. Here
I'm seen.
The bright lights shine on my face,
on my spirit. and fear leaves my body.
The music starts, possessing me.
i sway to the tune, melodies controlling
my movement.
From my smile, raw and genuine, a
song comes out: an old song.
it's a sad song.
a song of love.
it's a tragedy.
Watch me sing it anyway.
for past my glossy eyes,
my soul has never felt more alive.
but when you leave, forget what you've seen.
go back to knowing nothing about me.