There was a time
when those calls
were bothersome;
a time, when those talks
into the night
were like a disturbance.

Albeit, those times
were the best.
Filled with banters,
squibbles, and laughters.
Those times were the sweetest
of the times we spent.

But now, everything is all quiet,
like a still night
without the sound of crickets.
And now, I can't help but pine
for those times,
as I keep mulling in my head,
"I crave that disturbance".

The clock ticks.
Arms snapping like twigs.
Like plastic.
I can’t bear to watch.

Medicine.
Three times a day.
Faces.
You rot in your bed.

The needle.
Tears a hole.

The tube.
Down your throat.

Your pale skin, those brown eyes,
you'll be my sweet demise.
Cant change my feeling-it's not a thing.
I love you so,but its going to sting.
You're so cruel,so sharp and lean.
A bitter beauty , a haunted dream.
You hate my guts down to the bone.
Yet still,i wanna put you on a throne.
Your words-  they cut, they tear, they bite,
they break my soul in endless night
tear me down and make be whine
yet your voice feels so divine.
It's sound is like a glass o'gin.
I hate and love you..sebastian.

i aim to be a gardener of souls
who plants seeds for roots to grow

to feed one in hunger
and water one in thirst

i aim to be a gardener of souls
who weaves sweet life with death

aid spirits to bloom and bend
from the souls that I will tend

but once i was a gardener of towers
who whispered sweet words
to boost bullies powers

who swept all the lies
that killed innocent life

so i prayed and i screamed
and lived
on my knees

but now i believe  
I’ll die
on my feet

that’s why i aim to be a gardener of souls
who walks through grasses of joy
and when gardener grows old
as the plants have foretold

i’ll lay embroiled with the soil
as lessons fast uncoil

i aim to be a gardener of life
who invests in love and light
laughter is the food i’ll eat
the air i’ll breathe is pure delight

i aim to be a gardener of souls
and what i sow i’ll reap
i’ll listen to the melody
from trees who only teach.

i aim to be a gardener of souls
who will rake the leaves
as they bleed secrets
a fool dares not receive

but a gardener of souls
knows of natural wisdom

through long droughts
through fierce floods

a lesson to devour

no rain; no flowers
no pain; no powers

but those up in their towers
the gardens of cowards
your grave
is far
below

from all the scars and the wounds
the bruises and the cuts
a garden will arise
full of all the flowers i ever loved
and all the bugs i avoided

from the blood and the water
crystalline rivers will form into mater
which will create a new sun
not too hot but just enough

from all of the meat and the skin
new mountains will rise in the sky
over rain clouds the birds will fly
with water that's always clean

from my heart and soul
a forest will come as a surprise
and from my mind alone
a bunch of ants will arise

TW: B100d, other

Nights spent carefully watching as his smile turned to ice
Nights waiting for the call that I knew would not come
A butterfly that grew bright, was fated to fall and die
Leaving behind a world full of flowers and love
From their perspective at least
Nights that echoed from my thoughts racing from his words
Nights that screamed in my ear, the night sky wrinkling in my palms
Nights that I stayed unaware, foggy memories of terror and hurt
Staying at the window, watching for lights, fighting to stay calm
What have I done when his smile had grown too small?
What have I done, when he had filled up his skin and his walls
With drawings I couldn’t stop?
Bl00d is Ill-fated when staining the hands of a civilian
Easily turning a human into a monster that twists behind the mirror
A world full of people but still I thought you were one in a million
Biting back, I thought in a way that didn’t make it any clearer
But yet
The bl00d drips
My fingers become frozen ice that doesn’t feel, a world that seems so unsafe
I don't wait for your breath that has become empty
I had thought it was you all along, but the story is told in many faces
The ink that ran from our eyes were different colors, and I saw mine as black
But I know now it is red like the bl00d in your veins
Spilling out onto the carpet, spilling out of your head
It’s hard not to feel insane
And that smile, I realized, was just carved into your cheeks
The other side of the water, was not just my reflection
It was a strange thing to be seen…

radio music is a memory recalled all too clearly. resting in an electric cage we take to the cemetery, a friend’s house, the museum. //

guitar wails, sighs, screams, whispers.
flick of the wrist, exhale of the mind. //

i have a hum i keep to myself
the acoustics of a hollow heart
and a roar for both us heartbreakers. //

anthems for our country and for a shared self-loathing, performer and listener. //

songs for the street and songs for the stage. wells in our throats. they’ll tell you the water of the earth is not the water for drinking. //

why are some sounds just

sad

//

Lights flash on and off along with the faint call of car alarms
A whisper of the breeze of this already freezing day
The air filled with murmurs of thoughts, thick with concentration
That would just fade back into the blurs around me as the lights change from red to green
Automobiles screaming at each other through the stops
Where did everyone have to go that was so important?
How did they see through this blurry mess that rests in my eyes?
Standing in the middle of the crosswalk, frozen
The stink of metal, and the smell of pastries
And for a moment, everything was silent—still
And the world was beautiful as it became clear
The scream of tires, and flashing lights, and——
Shoulders bumped into mine, urging as the students released from the day
And from their cloudy skies rained down into stomping feet that moved with mine
Into the screaming lights of the cars, back into a place where people rushed
To rise and to go back into the motions that I have memorized
As if eyes closed, because they might as well be blind
I can’t see a thing