Like every drop of rain,
Disturbs the surface of water.
My actions make me gain,
Qualities we want for daughters.

Improvements we hope,
Because we want not to fall,
Backwards to the end of the rope.
Then those we know laugh with gall.

When we misstep in tiptoe,
Around the mistakes we make.
Not knowing the seeds we sow.
All the wrongs we forsake,

Holds us further apart,
With no comfort in the surroundings.
The cause for change at the start.
Despite denying their foundings.

So I be the light, the change,
So many need.
Hope in being in range,
And the message they heed.

the circles of time so possible. the hero radicalises the mirrors. in the middle of seeing a barricade, we don't know how to overcome it's truth. reality fights with itself. i have no one to cry with. time is dripping. the violence of words. the violence of thoughts. the violence of lies. the violence of dreams. the violence of reducing life to a grammatical structure. the violence of destroying what is real. there is violence on every side. there is hope. words are weapons for massification. the captive mind needs a voice. the innocent mind sleeps in a fragile bed.
i cry alone. you cry alone too. a woman cried alone among passersby. crying together it's unthinkable on an ordinary day. is it freedom that is dripping hour by hour, day by day?
the show goes on, let's make peace a fake in remake. no famine in Gaza cause people got used to eating stones. the news is incessantly breaking. an invisible menticide, our digital fingers won't recognize what kind of substance the skin is. laughter is not enough for everybody.  i watch the clouds decomposing themselves with eagerness. everything is what is supposed to be.  closed minds in closed bodies. birds are carrying our thoughts like broken paddles.
the permafrost of drama can finally see the daylight. violence is unbearable for me. a circle is closing, a new one begins.

I have toast and panick for breakfast
there's so much noise & scrolling without end
(I am/you are/he is just islands in the middle of words and infinite scrolling)
the coffee machines just lost their purpose in radical mornings
time explodes in our veins while
I'm dreaming of  blue hours

I’ve always said that I lack self-control
Can’t make a horse stop to drink
Can't get my thoughts complete
No matter how much I think

I try to think my morality is a compass, but I’m scared,
That this is only true if someone needs me
To navigate, I don't know where I’m going
So what good is a compass to me? I don't want

To go places, I just want to go
With people, and if I can be with people
I’ll think of myself a guide, a mentor, a helper.
But riding on the whims of others is no form

Of Discipline, the kind our parents gave us
Wasn't real because discipline isn't something
Given its something found inside yourself,
And I’m still searching because Im weak

To my own desires as I am to others
And I’m even weaker still to you
I didn't even need to be with people
When I could be with you, it scared me.

I’m a Grandfather clock floating off the seaside
And every hour on the hour thoughts of you bang
Through my head like piano notes, starting few
In the afternoon, Ring, Ring-Ringg, Ring-Ringg-Ringgg

You sound in my mind a dozen times every midnight
And while I flow above this Green Sea, I see a light-
House, Shining Pink-Orange at me, but theres a gray
Fog between us, not gray ash, but blue-gray, like Chartreux

I checked your spotify today, I'm sure you can tell,
One of the bangs told me to, and we both know
How well I say no, But i'm glad it did, because it
Let me know, that you feel the gray too, and maybe Pink-Orange as well?

I thought that I was going to be swept off my feet,
having the wind knocked from my lungs,
feeling as enamored with you as I did almost ten years ago.

I was wearing that magenta color again, trying to be a version of myself from back then.

Spring and summer are not my seasons but **** when you reached out I knew I had to try.

I wanted to try.

I had reached a plateau of almost overcoming my self hatred and I wanted to be more confident, strong, dare I say appealing?

I felt as though I was at the edge of a cliff, a dangerous precipice:

What if it would be weird?
Really, it was more: what if he thinks I’m worse than who I was before?
Honestly, it was: what if he thinks I’m fat?

Worst comes to worst, I would just leave- vanish mysteriously without even saying goodbye.

When I saw you I felt so light, happy-
it was as if you were exactly the same.
I mean honestly you still looked so good.
I kept saying: “It’s like you haven’t changed at all”.

And you said: “I have been so worn down”,
And that shook me and made me really look at you differently.

You are such a humble person.
You are so interesting and insightful and talking with you makes me feel like I am meeting you again for the first time.

Seeing you again brought up so many feelings, but the strongest ones were that I wish I would have gotten to really know you back then instead of being obsessed with the idea of who you were. Or who you could have been to me.

I want to get to know you better, now that we both have grown into who we really are.

I’m proud of you.
You are proud of me.

Amazing what almost ten years can do.

I wish I could go back in time and make myself more important to you.

playing catch with conversations
passing our thoughts
on the taste of the sea
and the way things glisten
under the glow of hindsight
this rain, feels all too maroon
and the roads, like veins
carry forward the spring gloom
I dusted off my shoulders
Just for this today
so, we could sit in the presence
of silence, and a quiet peace
with the pattering of a gentle storm
in between each heartbeat
bouncing between words and worlds
throwing out into the wide open
how we feel about time
just as it passes us by

This year began in march-
       The best part
                Of any ride is always
                             Near the end
                So that when it is over
         You wish deeply
                To start again-
                      I wanted to go
                           Towards a riotous
                Celebration, but I forgot
          To invite my mom,
Or common sense.
                  I was far too busy being
                          “Happy”
                         ­  I was indulging in
                 Bite-sized love
          And becoming intoxicated
                             With admiration.
                     Colby left town in march
       To fall in love with bad habits
                     Hopefully he’ll be home by Christmas,
           Or at least New Years

Low are the crickets of Delphi
With their chirping rays of sunset,
Like Phaethon to photon destructs
Into the fiery ruts of chariot wheels,
Or two eagles flying opposed on stringed vicissitudes,
A bird-yarning of sky from the omphalos stone,
The fulcrum of sung misery, a fishing net thrown,
As the half-bird and half-ion in siren’s undertones
Lure in subatomic orbs of ghostly parabolic swerve,
Into this blued Corinthian evening, self-vibrato,
Rocking like an empty boat from the dock rope,
Or an empty heart, unmoved by its own beating.