tell me something about you,
but don't talk in metaphors.
don't tell me how your eyes shine in similes,
don't use hyperboles to describe the depth of your words.
talk to me like a ******* ******* person.
tell me you love me and hug me so tight till I beg you to stop.
just be with me, please

fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself
so maybe that's why i
hide
your identity behind a cloud
of prestigious synonyms and
truthful lies because
i'm scared
of you and
scared for you
and if
i'm not scared then i don't feel
anything
at all (when your fingers are
wrapped around mine
or wrapped around my neck) because
i feel like i'm suffocating, your
skin
used to be on mine but now my
vocal cords have been
snapped, strained, broken,
so maybe your lips
are like electromagnets;
they took away my steel strength
when
you pulled them away;
like tectonic plates evoking
an earthquake in my core, in my mantel,
maybe i am a planet
but you made
me inhabitable;
my atmosphere poisonous,
i am impossible to breathe around yet
you
had the audacity
to sheepishly hold up a second hand
gas mask
and say someone else
will one day finish
project "love"
on a tiny planet
who's name
begins with m
and ends with e

Of these two souls
The difference
We both shine
Not a sun and a moon
One reflecting the light of the other
But having none of it's own
Completing and depleting each month
We are two stars
Twinkling our mysterious love for the universe to gaze at
But the distance is vast
And the space between is made of the deepest darkest matter
It consumes even time
So we send ourselves spinning
Orbiting, cascading, rambling,
soaring on wings of fire
Until for the smallest instant we are one light,
Then we pass
Perfect in union, and forever in perpetual solitude
But belonging to all of creation,
Not objects, pieces of the source
Pieces of the divine
Belonging to ourselves
Belonging to the difference
Of these two souls

Walls and chains, walls and chains,
That is the metaphor for containment.
But do not forget that of your own mind
It'll lock you up and tell you lies,
Replaces emotion with logic
But the logic is just so chaotic
And you can't break free of this
In your mind, walls and chains are what you miss.
The mind is what convinces you to regret
Kisses and touches and feelings and yet
You know in your heart the feeling is true
Its like there's a war between the two
Walls and chains, walls and chains
They know nothing of containment.

A good metaphor for life is a man trying to eat soup out of a spaghetti strainer
He goes super fast
Cause hes trying to get the good stuff
But no matter how much he gets
He just ends up with a bunch of soup off over his pants
And then he dies of old age eventually

I am not good at metaphors.

I.

The heart is clumsy,

our thoughts provoking disaster

when pulling on the wrong strings

before the storm, and after.

II.

You

and I,

encompass the sky

that hovers above us

holding clouds that serve purpose

to embellish or destroy

waiting for the wind

to mould us into strange shapes

tugging at others’ curiosity

not knowing what we are

or where we’re going.

III.

Muffled speech,

blinding weather in his eyes,

today we are not raining together

drop by drop

He falls and changes,

beauty into anger,

I await on a lonely ground

to catch him.

IV.

We exist in all shades,

unpredictable,

beautiful,

converging into one another

calming the anxious souls

that we transport to the heavens above.

V.

I watch the sun and moon alternate,

natural occurrences, I notice

just like the thoughts

that feel like clouds in my head

when my heart reminds me

of him

at an ungodly time of night

striking me like lightening,

thunder echoing between these ears

that long for the voice of an angel instead.

black paint slips down a weathered white canvas,
soiling age and dignity: fine lines and discoloration.
but her will wished for the knowledge--
volumes of thick tired dust drenched pages
recorded the deeds from do-good and destruction,
and while she believed the words would cure her,
they rarely did.