saw this cute girl the other day…
while smoking a cigarette at my balcony:
i was hovering over the pathway  
she’d eventually cross,
like an apparition watching over
her resplendent ignorance.

she eventually did -
the cigarette, having not been ****** on
for a while, drooped flaccidly
between my fingers.
i flicked the bud:
the ashes drifted away with the wind,
like confetti -
in the same direction she walked off
below -
as i watched from above.

the shirt, unbuttoned;
the V cuts deep enough for -
U to C me bare.

i knocked on
your door,
you opened with
a smile;
you knocked
on mine,
i returned
the favour;
the building was empty -
or at least,
the people living in it.
you were different,
though -
you were full of
little surprises.  
you were gentle -
like your touches;
and your kisses;
and your movements;
and my solitude:
of which -
you stripped me,
with your movements;
your kisses;
and your touches;
you shook me,
to say the least.
i was a sick man -
literally, and otherwise:
and it rubbed off
on you, a bit.
yet, you leaned on me;
pressed me;
cupped me;
grazed your lips
against the wet corner
of mine -
swooning;
drooling;
licking;
me choking on
cigarette smoke.
you choking -
every now and then.
you sick freak!
your uffs…
your aahs…
your mmms…
your every breath.
i loved you -
more than anything
in the world
in that moment;
that exquisite moment.
my eyes flickering;
my heart pounding;
my silence, silencing.
it was just right;
you were enough,
in that moment,
and all that
was you -

and then,
you left.

cut me some slack;
been feeding too long on crackers from the mart.
it takes guts to admit -
the best feeling you've had all day
is letting out a ****.

Ghosts are real.
Haunted by something long gone,
Dead, I haunt myself.
Ghosts, they float in my room,
Bouncing off the walls,
Surrounding me with what once was.

Eight years old,
I stand in the corner, crying,
It echoes in my head—
Haunted by my past.

Ghosts are real.
They don’t break glasses or close doors,
They evoke fear much greater than an unexplainable incident.
They haunt you with a cruel reality—
Something far worse than floating books.
The truth.
I am haunted. By the truth.

The rope bites deep, a fiery embrace,
Twisting, binding, claiming its space.
Flesh remembers each tender sting,
A captive rhythm to which I cling.

I writhe, I pull, the knots hold tight,
Time dissolves in the grip of night.
Minutes or hours, I cannot say,
Suspended here, where shadows play.

Then a presence, electric, near,
A whisper of breath I ache to hear.
The room hums low with silent demand,
As power approaches—steady, unmanned.

A brush of warmth, a fleeting touch,
My pulse ignites; it’s all too much.
Yet still, I’m caught in this sweet refrain,
Bound in the pleasure, awaiting the pain.

It's a funny thing distance.
We put it between ourselves and dangerous situations.
But what about when we put it between people we love?
Its unfortunate and it hurts.
well why though? were they dangerous to us, and our sense of self or we were dangerous to them.
It's never a easy answer.
But people put distance between themselves and their dead relatives, isn't it the same thing. That's distance to right?
Yes, but for us they're very much alive and we can close that distance if we wanted to.
Then why don't we?! END OUR SUFFERING!
we long for them... and all her wonders.
Were it so easy, we would not be here in this winter, feeling just how cold it can get, wanting to close this distance.
I dont care! I'm tierd of feeling this pain go straight through us down to our very bones.
What do you want us to do? Just reach out and say "Hi I'm back"
Do you know how tramatic that is! Do you know how much we've changed because of this distance, they wouldn't even recognize us we are akin to a new person!
No, we will endure this heart breaking, gut wrenching distance.
This distance is horrible.
Just think about the ones that can't endure it.
are they weak. Are we stronger then them? Why couldn't they endure the distance?
No, they're not weak, they're just lost, an have yet to find themselves.
Do you think they're at peace with the distance between us?
Maybe... I don't know. I hope so.

Although ugly,
Something beautiful happens.
The air suddenly gets thick.
Your hand ***** up and flies
up to your mouth.
Lungs ache, just as we do.
They cling to breath as if
It's the last thing they have.
I cough, and my whole body heaves.
Just like you when I am behind you
My eyes tighten, and after a moment,
It's over.

A wet kiss turned inside out,
Bottled up and forced out.
An act of surrender,
Forced out in urgency.
A noise that signals sickness,
But at the same time
Searches for a fresh breath.
At times, a cough can be sickening,
Sometimes nasty.
But when everything rattles loose,
And that ache is gone.
Sometimes,
That's the best kind of love