In this damp pen.

Where the children had left.

A sound. Flapping. where the pigeons go to rest.

The husk of the moon looming, like of bird of her nest.

The sun. Drained of her light, preparing for the plight soon to come.

For this moment. When she dies. And cannot fly. She glides down with grace.

Like a bird, of light. Flapping away from. Sorrow. Is the night.

She gives— a breath, of soft and quite.
As the moon engulfs her flame.

A shadow of you is left to gloom. The hollow sky.

The earth has wept, and this bench had two.

The warmth that she couldn't concive.
Was taken from you—
A given. A fruit.

Please hold me. For without you I could cry.
Tilting my head to the sky.

In disbelief.

The sky, empty. Nothing but nothing.

For you and me.

Could be given between me and me.

For outside this pen.
Is an illusion. Nothing but a view.

And pigeons too. Flapping.

I'm sick of hearing.
The thought of hearing one more story
That's not my own makes me wanna cry uncontrollably
I don't wanna listen.
To let how you feel tell me what to do
I'm sick of listening.

I'm sick of seeing.
Everyone else having it all put together
It makes my stomach turn to know that won't be me, ever
I don't wanna watch.
You live out what I want so eagerly
I'm sick of watching.

I want to feel.
To feel someone in my arms
And to feel the fire that might burn me to the ground
If it did, I would gladly let it
I'm sick of waiting.

I'm sick of losing.
To watch everyone leave or their shadows hunt me
To feel the warmth frozen by the cold in a tight embrace
I don't wanna win.
For as wining inevitably disappoints me

I want to be sick.
Sick in love and desperate
To be dizzy and dumb and stupid and young
Not to wear a cloak that hides me, lurking to swallow me whole
I want to be dizzy with desire.

Just for a blink I wanna see
the love they all see
And give in completely.

Blood on my fangs, I once saw as glitter
Rose-tinted world drowned in a hopeless filter
Crushed from the soul, heart-wrenched, lifelessly searching
No more hope where fragile seeds have been stomped
While time's sharp fangs can't seem to be stopped

As my mind is catching fire
Mentally sick, endless haywire
Too much to say, but no air escapes my lungs
No words to express what's become my world
Heavy clouds tinted undescribable shades
And ground overgrown, within it hidden venomous snakes

Shattered glass obscuring my vision, I won't look back
Infinitely dark, my face smothered in vantablack
But just then a light showed me a glimpse
A shooting star told me it's my turn to make a wish

A wish so grand it makes the ground rattle and
If it lights up a world just a little brighter than it is now
I won't turn back into the darkness I came from, a heartfelt vow
But it's just me, in reality
My entirety soaked in liberating rain and vitality
Where I wish upon a star that falls just to stop sparkling
Faster than self-made chains leave you in soliloquy, blood on your hands, burdening

Imagine what we could be
If you weren't just a constellation in the sky
A clutter of space rocks in the back of my mind
And if it were just you and I
For you would that be alright
To feel and tell secrets and sweet lies
Is a small price to pay for human paradise

Like the stream of consciousness in your eyes
You desperately try to hide but that i know it like the back of my mind
And I remember every little thing you said about yourself
And how you like to spend your days and how your eyes they're tired but so full of life
It's like a bottomless ocean, in it
Death seems like no limit
And I'll keep my blind spirit
In your inexistence I'll go delirate

My selections of letters to you mean nothing
To me they're perfect poems written just for me
You make me question if my sanity really exists
Or do I just wanna hold someone and be a know-nothing for the hope of it all
When all this world does is fall

I can tell
from the smile draped across
your cheekbones
and your boisterous thought
pinned like a malicious lapel
three odd words—
“bursting with life.”

Painting the corpse on display,
crammed inside a casket,
dressed in birthday suit.

Am I aching?
Am I in distress?
Do you need words
to tell you of these things?
While you hold a living funeral
for such feelings.

In between us,
a wall,
Before: you said you wanted connection, as you laid one brick after another.
Maybe if you went over you’d see
the emptiness you banished me to.

You,
cold as an ethereal summer,
sifting through gaps of a cracked heart
after being battered by promises offered.

Well excuse me,
if I can't get over the hurt
You do not have to be grateful.
You do not have to see beyond yourself.
You can continue, as you have,
to orbit your own sun.

No, I refuse you
patting tears I cannot cry.
Meanwhile, the world goes on.
Meanwhile, my heart, once offered
like an open palm full of seeds,
learns to close, to protect itself from
your drought and wildfire.
You are not the IRS,
neither an accountant,
nor a broker, but a breaker you are
love is not a transaction,
not a ledger to be balanced.

I should have flown with my flock
against the gale of your indifference,
but such curse is youth,
when naiveté is in abundance.

Perhaps the wilderness out there has something safer to offer,
something tamed,
and,
somewhere, the dogwood blossoms
like heaps of uncaring December, covering the ground
in a blanket of white petals.
I want to lie down there,
to press my ear to the earth
and listen to the roots growing,
to the slow, steady drumbeat
of my thumping heart or whatever
is left of it.

I don't need your approval to bloom
so watch me unfurl next season,
my leaves reaching for a kinder light,
my roots deepening into richer soil.

I wish my silence were words for you to read.

Turrets and towers and a fortified keep
all protected by barbicans of stone
encircle a heart that solitary beats
besieged by being alone
The curtain wall rises terribly high
behind a dark, wide, and deep moat
behind both hides a soul with a sigh
draped in a man-at-arms’ coat
The banners are torn and raggedly hang
far above the desolate ward
while the heart hopes for a cannonade’s bang
to free itself with a stroke of a sword
And there approaches on the sunlit plain
a fellow heart with siege engines in train