How do I feel about this?
I'm just too tired,

I guess.

I can't really blame myself,

Can I?

But I can't blame you too.
You're perfect.

My life—

I'm having trouble
Organizing my—

Thoughts.

Thousands of drafts have been rewritten,
Over and over inside my head;
But I can't let myself put it on paper,
Simply because—

It's not perfect.
You're perfect.

I guess in the end, I'm ruined.

iamthe_avatar ©2021

Love* and be loved.
Others might say,
it's a mirror.

**iamthe_avatar ©2017

There's a void
in every heart,
only love can
fill.

**iamthe_avatar ©2017

Gazing* into the void—

with his pen going
to and fro onto a blank page:
just like two lovers
kissing each other,
repressing a momentary qualm,
exhuming the extravagant proof
of their existence

—is the writer,

lashing out
every synapse of his brain

for nothing.
Nothing.

**iamthe_avatar ©2015

Our hearts fit perfectly
Like wooden puzzle pieces
Cut from the same tree
Both have the same sadness,
Both share the same joy

Intertwined from birth,
Only but the two of us
The transliteration of our pulses
Forms the fixation of our beings;
The communication of our synapses
Pulls each other's heartstrings

No one else can feel,
Only but the two of us
The intangible connection
Between two worlds;
The eponymous heartbeats
Of our tethered hearts

May the world be my enemy,
And its chaos my sanctuary
But I'll never trade the times
For a hundred billion dimes

And if one day I lose you;
I'll borrow from the future
And lend to the past
Just to see you near me
Darling so dear; holding so fast

**iamthe_avatar ©2015

the unseen beauty
lies in the eyes of the blind
—though no sight at all

**iamthe_avatar ©2015

The
one place
where I can finally
hear my
thoughts.

**iamthe_avatar ©2015

Listen* to what I'm about to tell you,
Because this matter is very important
For it will give you great advantage on
How to write a poem

Put your right hand against your forehead,
Make sure the dorsal surface touches it
Now make a rightward circular motion;
Because your head's been aching for hours

Apply more pressure to your massage
As you squeeze your nape up and down
Then make circular neck motions—to the left; to the right
Whilst you look for the menthol liniment

And now you've found your relief formula;
Which caused you more harm than good
Because your bedroom is a jungle—
Full of mysterious creatures and uncharted places

Now open the lid and pour a little amount
On your left palm, and rub vigorously
With your right hand, and massage gently
Your frontal lobe; apply more if necessary

Now wait just for a couple of minutes
Notice that the heat is starting to permeate;
And your mind begins to take a deep breath
From its calming and soothing effect

And now you're feeling a whole lot better
You're acting like a normal person again
And now you're ready to write your poem
If all else fails, repeat everything from step one

**iamthe_avatar ©2015

You
own
the skies and still
You
want
my
heart.

iamthe_avatar ©2015