This is the last night.

Legs outside the window, the sun burns like always.

Cold beer in one hand, the heat from a cigarette in the other one.

Songs about old lovers playing in the background.

This is where it all started, and ended.

A feeling of sadness, to leave it all behind.

The person I was 6 years ago, all the memories, struggles and happiness.

Yet I feel excited.

I'm ready to move on, to create new memories away from here.

Ready to let go, to allow a new lover in.

A new view, new songs and new memories.

I have a good feeling about this new place and I can't wait to see what it has in store for me.

let’s meet again
new
fresh
but still/always healing

I’d see you and smile
you’d walk over and bravely
ask my name

we’d start new
wiser
silently in tune
with each other

that never fading
connection
we’ve always shared
just new
fresh’
and full of potential

I hadn’t thought of you in years.

To be honest, I put you away in the box of memories of people I simply longer cared for, put the hurt into the deepest part of my soul and laughed the anger away while my best friend and I made plans for matching bathing suits and making lemonades for another summer barbecue we could fondly look back on. It was 3 am and the guy you told me I wasn’t allowed to be friends with, was laughing with me outside of a Taco Bell I knew you hated going to. We were talking about the letter your ex wrote him and I suddenly remember how much you hated your ex.
But *******, if you two weren’t meant for each other.
I mean, you are basically the same person, same narcissistic, view, same letters where you blamed others when you should have seen what was in front you.  It was through laughing, I realized, I don’t miss, I never missed you to begin with. The day you told me I was a bad friend, a bad person, a person who moved mountains for you and was crushed under the weight, I realized, you gave me the freedom was looking for. I was heart broken at first, but then I realized friendships aren’t made from how many years you have known someone, they are made from meeting someone and feeling like you knew them a lifetime. Friendships are unconditional love and respect, something I hadn’t felt the first time you insulted me. I guess what I’m trying to say is, enjoy my Instagram, it’s public and I know you still talk **** about me cause that's just the kind of bitter lemon you are, the kind people leave behind at the Farmer’s Market.

As drops descend from his face, rolling past his heart to be soaked up by whoever might pass underneath

Blanketed in a wispy layer of mist
he grips her hand tightly

Wanting to get up from the place he’s been anchored to for so long but not ready to
The dull sinking feeling that resides over him, pushing him further and further deeper

into the surface

These absent buildings clinging around only setting him in his place,
at the edge of perception

What is left of his mind begins to drift, leaching out like a plague of activity across a circuit board

And exactly like a switch, he finds something she hid inside of him
An incendiary note, left
Time itself seems to stop for a moment,
sparking from him

Setting her soul ablaze
so vibrantly scorching her existence

And so, I stand
In witness

Of such an ethereal sight
and see
just the smallest details

where drops turn to streams and paralysis turns into a rigid tremble

Managing to unclasp his hands from where they were
he shivers

Placing his hands onto the pavement
unfamiliarity seeping out his fingertips and spilling

the snow melting softly around him

Unknowing of where exactly I am, he tries to compose himself
But he doesn’t notice that his legs have gone unused for so long

Struggling to stand like a newly born lamb he stumbles
thankful for the absence of those buildings

His breath unconcealed in the spiritless atmosphere
Caution in the wind veiled by snowflakes

falling

Just like before, the sheets of ice lay atop, varnishing what seems to be a landscape of optimism
Obscured by crimson flesh and soft chimes of melancholy that resonates within him,

a sun rises

He begins to stand
The mist circling his feet, trailing him as he makes his way beyond the buildings

Beyond the colourless town
Beyond his travesty
His heart still so sharply yearning for what once was but couldn’t be
to something more

And here I stand
A distance so short

away from him

in an entirely parallel world
Watching him as he takes the first steps out of the mist
closer, and closer

he steps

his face, as cold as ice
detached from this harbour
transcending gradually into consciousness

I decide to put my reservations aside and reach out for him
the light piercing through his lifeforce
irises so profound

an abyss of magnificence
alluding to what could only be the unfaltering desire of inception
the temptations that captivate him
releasing him from where he once stood

and so he realises;
The snow is no longer dripped with red
and it is instead

an eternal springtime in his mind

enlightened
the new surroundings
curing him from the dangers of his thought
beaming with new hope

and for the first time

I see in clarity

an angels wings repair itself
from the depths of grief and desolation.

and then I weep.

For nothing could have prepared me for the sight of this journey.

Shape of life,
Shape of world,
Void is true,
Politics rue,
4 years,
We can start anew,
A better hope,
For patriots few,
The vines creep,
To destroy what is left,
Reminiscent,
Of the country's cleft.
As they fight,
Empowering the wrong,
Not making the country right,
Our leaders cause nothing but trouble,
If only to relate,
To the idea of hate,
Hating on their threats,
No noble opponents,
No honorable selection,
It's not good for a future election,
People hope to come soon.
Thought of doubt,
Thought of heart,
We can survive this,
With a new start.

You are nothing like the others
You're not the best or the worst

But all i know is,
I'm attracted to you

Every time we're on the same room
My eyes are always darting towards you

Thinking, "I have yet to know you"
But it feels like I already do

When you're near
The air becomes thicker

"It's the little things you do that makes me feel uneasy"

Just like a black hole—
Complicated but devastingly beautiful

I can't escape
I am engulfed

But the feeling can't be described
It's between peaceful and disastrous

But I'd rather have this feeling
Than to feel nothing at all

Directions swerve from visualizations of
reflections that are kept
                                          within the above.

                Dismay verses  acute desperation,
stray reflections deflect
                                          systematic dictation.

Where all shards of what lingers before us,
pair unto parts that collect for us to
                                                               discuss.  


But eventually  they show true form,
               cut deeply they delegate in uniform.