Crisp September breeze
Carries memories
From too many years past.
Feelings unprocessed,
Echoes of uncertainty.

Promises left unkept,
Dreams and hopes
Scattered to the four winds.
And wounds untended,
Deep, ugly, gnarled.

Something in the chill,
Hauled in on the wind,
Makes the hurt return
Like an old fracture
That aches before a storm.

the expanse of hallway outside my hotel door
seems to go on forever
the space seems to embody an otherworldly feeling
between our world and some other
indescribable place
is it comforting or claustrophobic?
I used to visit our small town mall
when I was young, it was bustling with life
it had a movie theater
with endearingly tacky Electra-Dye carpets,
an arcade, and a Borders bookstore.
years passed, and the place became a husk.
movie theaters are on the decline,
and the bookstore went bankrupt.
malls are shutting down all over the world
due to the popularity of online shopping
and digital streaming.
movie theater architecture no longer looks like
an odyssey into space,
but a hotel lobby with neutral colors.
humanity left it all behind.
we gave these spaces life with our humanity.
the liminal spaces were alive with the
frenetic energy of living.
they were meant to be inhabited.
I visited our local mall.
there were only a few other people.
it felt like I wasn't supposed to see it that way— devoid of life, devoid of the meaning
humanity described it.
it became a relic of the past.
I wandered the hallways
and saw the movie posters they displayed.
the showings were from seasons before,
and they were peeling off the walls.
it felt like I was left behind too.
liminal zones are really the state in between
the past and the present,
nostalgia and the modern age.
the walls were just walls.
the carpets just carpets.
but my memories gave it meaning.
if birth is the beginning and death is the end
life is the liminal space.

oh friend, my friend.
Where hath thou gone?
These sleepless nights hath frown me so.
To a point i am at death's bow.
How come you aren't though.
We bleed, we breathe together
so how come you aren't here.
Though i must say with all the haste that the times we made were are just a memory of thee as now you can't seem to be.
I search and search for a way but all i find is dismay.
In these melodic nights i call for thee yet all i find are fleas.
Moments of anger turned into fleas and somehow they are the only remembrance of you.
And somehow that is enough for me. Of flea, oh flea.
Where art thou?
Lack of you is shaming me apart
so tell me apart from all these lies
and tell me where you fly
as when all is said and all is done
you are still my friend though you,
a flea to me.
A flea i would rather carry than flee.

Buried within the heart's depth
Lie memories of the one who left
My beloved left me alone
To stare at the sky on my own

It's been ages since I saw you there
In the world outside
Or my inside
I looked for you everywhere

Dreams seen, opinions shared
Memories created, plans made
Some relations are impermanent
Like the colours of an old film fade.

Where once existed a garden,
Autumn resides my heart
Pain disguised as memories
They tear me apart

Whenever I think about you,
I loose the track of time
I feel as gloomy a poem
Without any rhyme .

My eyes flow like the sea
As I search for you
I wish I could see
My beloved beside me.

Sugar Seventeen. Days that are so bright.
Life of rose, in sweet river, tasting like beet.
******* better than adult's freedom; Pain, so sweet.
Free from hustle and bustle, time of light.
But your light is for a while, then fade like night.
You are just a sweet dream. We wake to meet
With the truth, after we've had your moment so sweet.
You fade as time rides close on his bike with might.
Since you are a dream, Let us not be loser,
Like those who cry, "Had I known?"
Let's have good time as soon as possible.
Forget the morrow, jolly, 'cause time's bike draws closer.
With my pen and note, I will note my sweet moment now.
That on the morrow, my youth will be memorable.

The twigs remind me
of ancient a memory,
muted by time
and our efforts to forget.
You remember how
You’d snap a twig into two,
then we’d sword them off,
like two chivalrous knights,
queer knights that feared
a shared sunset together more than
Battle.
What happened next?
the next memory seems to
slip away from me too,
imitating you.