Start now knowing joy,
that’s an order,
overcome a deepening solitude.

Like a bee at a bugle
or me at the deli
on Third Avenue.

I said to Joe when do you think this weather will break?
He jokes, April.
That’s no joke. Weak creatures die and the strong barely survive.

Half a year goes by
another cancer checkup.
Cheer up. Any weather’s

better than no weather at all.
There’s always governance
even when there is no government.

My candidate drops out
after Iowa. Why do I always lose
at politics and poker?

Peace at last!
No lawnmowers, no leafblowers.
Big comfy couch.

Meditate on this: Do what has to be done.
Find your lover gazing at the moon
and take your garbage to the dump.

Your web site evaporates
and your possessions are thrown in the dumpster
except your trumpet which finds its way to a future trumpeter.

The last time you knew me,
I was not
as fond of substances.
when you decided not to know me anymore,
the
    downwards
                       spiral
                                began-
allow me to reintroduce myself:
Hello, my name is unimportant, and my brain is buzzing.

So many songs to love you
So many gossips to hate you
I hear one thing, I felt another
I'm still in that summer
You sang your first song in dinner

I'm waiting here, despite the odds
That's all I can do
To be young and to be loved
By the songs you sang for your fans
Yes! all those thoughts brought us apart

There is nothing left to do
But to kiss once again
There's nothing for you to rue
Unless the beauty, the passion
Now you up to...…

In the next Cold season
When we find our lovers.
So Don't go far away
I'll be waiting for you
At the empty station
Where no one calls your name...….

in the few moments
before dreamland crashed into reality
the skies glittered like cities of light

there was the sight of your bright eyes
admiring in the soft candlelight
the silhouette of your finger

tracing the constellations as
you shared a story of dusk and dawn
leading to the promises of a forever

which rolled from your tongue and became
the only words that ever mattered as much as the
"of course, i care," which you melded into lullabies

that repelled the terrors of loneliness
of wars in the heavens and monsters in the dark
your smile radiated light and

in the way your warmth surrounded me
you became young apollo
and i, your uncursed, loving daphne

These poems I write, they’re my escape,
though from what I do not know.
My troubles seem to evaporate
the moment I let them show.

I write about love, which is ironic
because I’ve never had a lover.
I used to think maybe I was sick;
for I’ve never longed for one either.

I write about death when I’m feeling down
so I can cry to something new,
but thinking to when I lost real tears,
maybe they weren’t mine to lose.

Even now as I write this down
- my headphones on but paused -
I wonder where my motives are bound,
for I always feel like a fraud.

Every day I try running away from you,

but that pulls me to the fake promises u made days back.

Every day I try to find a reason to hate you,

But you make me fall more.

Every night when the silence wails,

I miss your voice.

Every night when the cold creeps in,

I miss the warmth you were to me.

Not a day goes by

When I didn’t search for you.

Not a day goes by

When I didn’t want you to go.

The clock stops

Brings me back to you

The heart races

I just miss the me I was with you.

You said you left me and goodbye,

But I never accepted it,

I tell the others that I want answers

But all I want is your arms.

I didn’t know I was in love,

But now that there’s no you,

It gets harder to bleed for a void.

I was ready to cross the ocean,

but u saw me drown in it,

you didn't have to say it back,

because I knew you would never love me.

but you lied,

and let me choke in the Lala land I was building for us.

i want to love you
like a lazy sunday morning
staying in bed
taking our time
sipping coffee
memorising every freckle
like the constellations in the sky
white sheets
and tangled limbs
with the scent of a memory
fresh on our lips.

You stand in front of me, eyes wide.
Those eyes stare at me.
Big and bulging yet beautiful nonetheless.
Eyes that describe a thousand words in a look.

They can describe pain and misery through their greyish blue colour with a piercing stab straight into my heart making me question what it is they want, and why I’m scared.

Or, the blue colour comes to life and you tell me stories of the sky, the sky that resembles the colour of your eyes. Happy tales of a better time or a bright future.

or the scariest of them all.

they say nothing

there is no blue



there is no light










it’s grey
and you’re done looking at me


But for now, your eyes stare at me.
It isn’t a blue,
or a grey
Or even a blueish grey.

It’s just your eyes staring at me, and I stare back.
There aren’t a thousand words.
There isn’t a story.
It’s just you,
and it’s just me.

It’s a nice feeling.
You blink.
I blink back.