Like a bird who wanted to fly
behind the bars it cried.
In myself I hide,
the deepest fears inside.
i may run behind,
but im scared
will I be able to fly?
or afraid enough to try?
Are trapped inside the wallet of my soul ,
And I'm so tight ****** .
Are kept safe in a safe,
Always afraid of thieves.
They are prisoners behind my rib cage,
Not for a crime,
They aren't colored in rage,
But I'm allergic to fake ones,
And I don't want mine to lose their truth.
I don't want them to be taken for granted.
My darkest fear
Is them going to the wrong places.
Wrong hearts and fake faces.
Afraid to get excited.
Fills up the room with party balloons ,
And if it doesn't work out,
They'll pop up.
what a sound.
but baby I can be something you need
I'm blind and the liquid fire that goes down my throat taste better than any kiss I've ever had
or maybe it just taste better than the bitterness
I want your lips
I crave you
I want see the Sun for the first time
I can feel you but I can't see you
but how is it that you make me feel
electric eccentric ecstatic
how do you light flames so bright I still can see them even when my eyes are closed
the ocean doesn't have a fighting chance against the wildfire you started within me
mend me into a cup so when you drink you think of me
you bring wildflowers into my dull forest green grass
I've never seen peonies and sunflowers
and daisys and hyrdrogenias
look so in peace
and you make my heart beat in time in what seems like forever
I could smell these flowers even after they died
and the Sun decided she was done with them
but I never cared much for flowers
when you leave idc what I'm remembered for I just want to be remembered*
if you go like the moon says good bye to his morning star
then please remember the way it felt at 21 to still believe some things would come back
and the Sun would say hello to her moon
before he left
trace the feel of your lips the way they form into smile
and remember the pattern
we're not ever getting 18 back
and I'll write you sweet nothings
on napkins I'll leave in a diner
where we once got ice cream
Angry words linger
Lightly along the wafting smoke
Of cigarette puffs
Inhaled and absorb
Staining memory as lung.
if you sing a moment of transaction
or the sudden influx of a face conjured
to so many an enterprise offered for
protest. A hand's insisting tremor
an emptying from over and over an indication
A counterfeit I cannot grieve over and over.
Its renown a nearest position /
a silhouette from a smokestack
about to be sensed out from a customary
stranded in a lilt of a becoming word
or question subtitling a frantic enemy
you -- panicking all across, a retailed
fugitive thing. You can become a plaza
if not sing but exist in the district
from a humdrum projection fated, tagged
with a purebred amount. You can
will it so /unbecoming of/ a plaza minused from and adhered to as cacophonic
only in newsprint here is your performance
of a numbered caution. Permit you to be
nominal, going into without purpose
you can become a plaza
if I pose need from (y)earning
hear me now as i say
pilgrimed is the image
yourself into the wind
as i *****
placeness in this
no more are
the birds that
sing and way past us
is the same permeable blue
our curved spines
and when weakened
cities do -
i see a line
for a stream uncollected,
This is my space
Here, I'm nobody
A different name
And all new identity
I can be myself
And I'll be judged
And it'll fair
Coz there will be no grudge
So here I'm
Hear me, you,
And know your self?
This is my space
Here, I'm nobody
Still the same
Passion, love and tragedy
the lament of fixity
gazes on stone, its death-fires encircle
the slender body of the doting Sun.
this is our time spent again
when our days obdurately say
that our inimitable skies smell of
our time has come to sleep.
the soggy horizon closes its eyes
and darkness enters like a thief.
aureoles criss-cross into
i am closer to the Earth than I was once
before you, bared to profile
like a fruit pared by your teeth.
what awaits in the gleam of one's
waking is the fruitage of nondescript music flowering in my ear:
the curved entry of your breath,
receiving it, my ear's bell,
shaking the cathedrals and by the pews
of my somnolence, a trespassing whirlwind, a dewdrop, trickles of flame.
are there lips, with there power enough
left to clench in their growing?
this den of such tender love,
when i roar ardently dressed as
an admiral in sleep's sea,
i, mounting the waves of your body,
dream of lions.
enduring quiet -
hands clasped sealing all tyrants,
a tumultuous poem.
the dawn of another
tempest and the twilight
of another's sleek extinction.
i roam freely
without fences so i could break
free with even speed.
this is where no men
this is where everything
this is where all fires
raze whatever has been uncovered
and deemed vulnerable.
this is where i imagine
realness and put to realities,
whatever is imagined.
this is where everything only
amounts so little,
and that in its smallness, i only
weave an immense thatch
for the asylum of these words
and watch them come to life...
it starts with a pencil of light
torching where silence beckons
and words writ strongly in
where all of these syllabications
take their sojourns in one's mind,
pulsing with life and one with blood in the sinews of mind's faculty.
this is where i meander freely,
and everything exists
in illustrious wonder.