.Sanctuary.
I offered it to you
And everyone
Anyone
When it was meant for me all along.

Someone save me from my own understanding

I write poems in the dark
when I’m more vulnerable
when everyone is sleeping
while I bleed my feelings out
in letters that stand one after the other.

I didn’t learn how to be eloquent
it just happens to me once in a while every time my mind is about to colapse.

I feel everything intensely
and sometimes I try to put them in a cage
I place them there until there’s no room for more and then
they just explode.

I write them in the darkness of my bed
the place where I feel safe
the place where I can be alone with myself
the place that has witnessed uncontrollable breakdowns and
that has dried up a whole ocean of tears.

I write poems in the dark because
it’s the only place where I am me.

So we had geography homework,
And also Latin and Maths.
I didn't do any of those.
We had a study hour, so I was copying the Math answers from the answer keys.
Two of my best friends didn't have any books.
I jokingly said; you can do my homework if you want.
They're doing my homework now.
Oh my ******* god.

A mixture of ash and dust
floats down from ceiling.
From rusted chandelier to
stone.

He sits at the top
of a long hallway,
the tapestries guiding visitors to the
throne.

Greying sideburns, hand too weak
to do much as lift his key ring—
the keys that most define as a
sword.

He makes no eye contact
while you kneel on his dust,
more focused on how his wine is
poured.

Look upon your king
Despise if you must
He has overstayed his welcome

He lifts his head
Bones shuddering
Voice that makes any man feel his thirst

“Odiet dum metuant”

i know,
that you'll never love me.
but,
dum spiro spero.





                                                    -­YYC

Light in Latin is lumen--
It has many meanings,
the word, the idea.
Something or someone bright,
that brings clarity, clearness,
understanding.
Is it possible for people
to be lumen,
for others? I say yes.
Yes, because
my magistra taught
me that, through enthusiasm
and a language others thought to be dead.

In romantic relationships
You speak Latin
And your empire falls

In platonic relationships
You speak Greek
And think about caves

distance between our graves
spacious and airy—
leave our kids to sing
“vivere volumus permanere”