#melodrama
My body clung to the chair from clothes just tossed,
clean of course but might as well be ***** now.
My eyes are looking at the frame of the window.
The Alaskan sky is blue today, the type of
blue that makes you feel like you could fall upward.
Wouldn’t it be lovely to be the falcon?
To trace the edges of the clouds looking
between and always between because it’s not
enough to hear what someone says.
You have to parse between to find the heart of it.
It could always be a delusion.
The yearning to find the hidden love in the pauses.
Does he look at me differently?
Could this be something?
I can’t stop thinking about you.
It makes me wish I could go looking for you
as if you were lost here and not countries away.
I’m not divine waiting
to split the sea or walk on it.
I’m just a man waiting at
the window.
Waiting.
Apr 19
Apr 19, 2026 at 7:15 PM UTC
when i skipped in the street
and you blinked your flashlight fifteen times at me
my high beams bursting through the windows of the neighbors,
i started to feel like she wrote those songs for us
and for our teenage recklessness.
can you teach me how to stay,
how to sit still and just love
with no shame and no repercussions?
because how are you so close in my rearview mirror
and then so much farther than you appear?
i would’ve cranked the heater, the same for you
the same simple cares
that you bestowed on
someone as wretched as me.
i would’ve called you my favorite person,
denying your insecurities and making them seem insignificant,
just as you had.
i would’ve laid in your lap retrieving my phone
as we laugh with our entire stomachs
and your friend says there must be something between us;
how does that make you feel?
i would’ve said it was finally time to go if i saw you sleeping,
almost too tired to drive home.
i would’ve asked you to drive safely for fear of deer around,
the same as you had.
i would’ve invited you to my cracking house,
just as you did,
answering the doorbell and smiling,
“you can take your shoes off”
“i love you as you are”
May 17, 2024
May 17, 2024 at 7:03 PM UTC
in the morning, i will feign ignorance,
pretending to be fast asleep and unaware
as you pull on your shirt and socks
we should have been theater concentrators, like,
if we never talk about it, it just never happened
you're just so nonchalant, and i'm just melodramatic
and i'm never satisfied unless it's something tragically comic
so tonight, let's pretend to be enemies, let's become lovers,
let's drown in shared regrets, get too familiar with each other
after all, tomorrow, when we wake, it'll all be over
your missing friends and my crushing hangover
will, once again, inevitably, reduce us to strangers
Feb 28, 2024
Feb 28, 2024 at 1:10 AM UTC
Though the loneliness sets in, among the crowds,
Here, within themselves, they find their solace;
Euphoric events have now lost their appeal;
Mindfulness is the key to rest, they recite;
Exaggerated were their extravagant emotions on the dance floor,
Losing themselves in self discovery;
Over-sensationalized was the persona,
Diving into the depth of purple elixirs;
Rave, rave, rave,
As the sun replaces the strobelights,
Melancholy rises with her rays,
And suddenly, life seems meaningless;
The melodrama,
It strikes;
Cleaning up the champagne glasses, after the catastrophe
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 9:20 PM UTC
second choice boys
and last choice girls
live in the realm of abandonment
they scream into the void
unrequited love and its sorrowing embrace
feel like a swan dive
the butterflies soon rot away in you
as if they regress back to caterpillars
and feast upon your insides
they grow just to consume you
to eat away at your everything
the sad truth to the friendly hugs that feel empty and cold
they will never love you
it’s best i tell you first
before you’re too old
Dec 4, 2020
Dec 4, 2020 at 10:13 PM UTC
the storm has passed
but the aircrafts’ echos linger
a quiet sunrise will always cleanse the weak
will your problems seep into the broken earth?
squeezing between ages of the bones
no
because unlike them
you were chosen
so indebted you are
and pain will sow upon your heart from now on
Oct 3, 2020
Oct 3, 2020 at 2:33 PM UTC
what scares me
is that
even scars disappear eventually
please
just don’t get tired of me
Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 11:55 AM UTC
My little friend is now gone
My tragic life must go on; despite that
His evil eyes and his cheeky smile still burn in my mind
He no longer exists except
For my memory of him
And I rejoiced
When I heard the news
Still I can recall how I sobbed
When he gave me his evil eye for the first time
When he hurled glass and other projectiles at me when he was hungry
When he spent hours upon hours pondering the fabric of society
I hated him
I wished
For his death
I was depressed
It was like paint peeling off a wall
It was like finding a dead leprechaun at the end of a rainbow
I was expecting some sort of remorse when he left
Funny how heartbreak works
Now read this in reverse
Because sometimes all you need
Is a little change of perspective
To truly understand someone
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
i.
an ailment of the mind,
incorporeal, a ghost that flits between
worlds, festers and grows —
a thumping tumour.
ii.
sick, but not really sick.
(does it hurt? paracetamol might help).
you are exaggerated and foolish.
count your blessings.
iii.
potent to change reality.
stronger than any mushrooms.
a single thought, the words and the images,
gunslingers to misery.
iv.
hook that reels in,
boding some ominous fate.
fish out of water —
flippity-flop; people sunbathe around.
v.
plodding is what it is.
plodding through a tempest,
freezing, crackled skin,
watching everyone else walking in sun.
vi.
you want to scream but don’t.
you want to explain but don’t.
you let them form their own ideas
and agree. you feed on it.
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 7:43 AM UTC
He drives into the desert in a Toronado,
Dust in his eyes from the open window,
Sun on the burned skin and black mascara
That augments his vivid gaze.
Black orbs that stare at the burning sand,
His mouth is defiant and morose,
He turns off the path into the sage and saguaro.
The car is like a black beetle on a carpet of tan.
He lifts a shovel from the trunk, looking crazed.
Digs a shallow grave in the sand,
He rips a talisman from his neck
And declares he is looking for something
Unclear and he slurs a chant.
“Something is coming”, he seems to say.
He buries the necklace and drives away.
Will he come back for it or leave it
for the spirits of the desert?
No, he will come for it every day
Bury it again and again
Until the spell wears down,
The perfumed season is done,
Or perhaps the spring floods
Wash it all away.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
Where is the inspiration that I once possessed?
Where is the love that once sprouted from my fingertips?
Where are all the flowers that once grew around my feet,
with each step I took?
It seems as though
lately I've abandoned my gardens,
and left all the flowers to wilt and turn to dust.
The lives that I once cared for,
are now all scattered around the ground.
My spring light is somewhere lost in this winter cold,
and this winter has been going on for too long.
My body is numb from the breeze the December nights send me.
I once rose with the early sun in the morning,
but now I find my self serenading the moon each night.
Hoping maybe she will understand all my pain and issues.
These nights are graceless.
These nights are long.
These nights have me lost,
walking and searching for the sun.
Always ending up in places
that are just too dark.
Where is the sun that once loved me like a child?
Will I ever end up in a perfect place?
Am I just crying them to the moon?
Will this all be over soon?
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 7:45 PM UTC
heavy head
raise the lever
open eyes receive
light transmissions
signal time and space
je me reveille dans une chambre
qui ne me connait pas
j'attendais la vie me lève
mais il n'a jamais fait
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 10:48 AM UTC
Remember how we met?
I stopped by to see thy smile,
Oblivious me, was trapped in Thy isle.
Stole my kingdom while innocent,
Thy scent on me are still reminiscent.
I found my prince in life's fairy tail,
Je t'aime mon Amour
My first and my last prince.
This is my last poem to you,
Last? Why last?what's wrong?
Well, not cuz I lack fair words,
Not cuz I'm being melodramatic but,
Perhaps this clock will stop ticking.
This is my last poem to you ,
Cuz I've told em the start,
And I don't wanna reveal the end..
Are they seeking conclusion ?
Well they must cry.. Cry??
tears are the body's way of restoring “emotional equilibrium”.
Why do we cry tears of joy?
Is it nostalgic ? Sigh in joy or sorrow?
I leave it upon them to interpret,
As they feel so mote it be
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 12:50 AM UTC
melodramatic voices
echo through my head,
liquefy out my lips,
and pool at the curve of my palm.
sometimes the voices
get too much.
so i smear them unto paper
and call them art.
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 7:27 AM UTC
to the tune of "My Favorite Things"
Poems in all caps and no punctuation,
Mixed metaphors and clichéd observation,
Roses and rainbows and angels with wings--
These are a few of my least favorite things.
Morbid obsessions and self flagellations,
Self involved rantings and dull ruminations,
Exhibitionists’ ****** preoccupations--
I’m just not dying to read these creations.
Statements of true love to those I don’t know,
Plodding prose poems that go way too slow,
Syllable stresses that aren’t found in English--
If only I’d see them no more is my true wish.
When the urge strikes,
When the words flow,
When you grab that pen--
Just take a moment and think…again.
A good Dictionary, and a Thesaurus,
Some time to read poets who wrote long before us,
Revising, rewriting and time to review--
It’s only these small things that I ask of you..
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 7:42 PM UTC
I’ve climbed the wall
Been up high,
Basked in twinkling lights
Told the past goodbye
Trapped in a corner
For so long, a passive
Doormat for you to come
And stomp your shoes on
In hopes that one day
It’d be me who once more
Swept you off your feet but
I have risen, I have seen
That life goes on, that
I could grow and change
And yes, my darling, it’s true --
I no longer desire
To be married to you.
Go and turn around now:
The door is open --
I’m telling you goodbye.
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 6:52 PM UTC
Poor little man!
It's like kicking a can,
Did your footy team lose?
Do you wish you had a *****
Now you're a'sulking,
In your lair you are skulking,
Now no one loves you, churn,
Go down the garden and eat big fat worms,
Sad violins,
Pity parties for him.
His team did not win,
Wah!! Wah!!! Drama mama man!
You poor little man!
OH!!
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 9:03 PM UTC
evening loneliness arrives at dawn
and knocks on the dusty windowpane
in the kitchen, i lie — with threadbare arms —
against the shabby wooden cupboard frame
this house is void of all electricity
except for the light bulbs, the fridge, the T.V.
and my steady-beating heart of rhythmic defeat
lying naked across the tear-stained sheets
if you come home and find that i am dead,
perhaps some ***** dishes fell on my head
but most likely, i'll be, in the living room gloom
with a half-drunk bottle of wine to consume
with emergency flares tied to both wrists,
i'll leave you a smile, a sigh, and a kiss
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 7:52 AM UTC
A woman's an isle, and men explore
He sails on and returns to shore
He docks and walks
Traces in the sand
Changes her with just his hand
He rests and loves and then he leaves
Her wind pushes through the sails and eaves
But I'm more, the wind carries her whisper
She needs you to come back and kiss her
I can be the ocean too
If that's what it takes to keep you
She rocks the sailor off to sleep
And holds her secrets fathoms deep
Dark and stormy, calm and pensive
His heart makes her apprehensive
He moves on with no resistance
Vows to carry him any distance
Miles south
She loses sight
Something lost in the pitch black night
Nowhere near her lovely isle
Blinded by the sailor's smile
He docks and walks
Traces in the sand
Changes another with his hand
****** and lost she's strung along
Sailor's charm a siren song
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 11:06 PM UTC
antiquated diatribes
hackneyed bromides
deflated explosions
unreal delusions
sycophantic embraces
hiding disgraces
cult of bipolarity
words of triviality
obsessively unceasing
yawningly unentertaining
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 2:48 AM UTC
I thought you loved me.
I had so many things planned for us.
I still had so much left to give.
But you left anyway.
Now what am I to do
With these plans
All this love
But to fling them out
To be trampled by pigs
And eaten by birds
You lied to me.
You're cruel.
And why would I want to remain friends
With someone that selfish?
I tried to show you
That I wasn't like him
Blind to the fact
That you're just like her.
I've done nothing wrong
Except give my heart
And love wholly -
Something I will never do again
When I departed
Who knew
It was for the final time.
Perhaps it was for the best.
That's what I tell myself
In an attempt
To ease the sting
Of your abandonment.
A star is a star, after all
Meant to roam the frigid emptiness of space
To blaze and shine
Through the barren loneliness
And inspire bards and priests and murderers
Here on my patch of dirt
And this neanderthal
Was meant to walk this humble rock.
To vie for the heavens
Is blasphemy.
This simple-minded caveman
Can do nothing else in his grief
But perhaps
To find something more worthy
For which to paint his crude smudges
On the walls of his hovel.
The girl who captured my heart
And held my hand
And kissed my cheek so sweetly
Died back there
With my final vestiges of hope
In The Land of the Morning Calm.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 4:30 AM UTC
The sad saga
and brittle memories
for the cast and crew
of a sinking melodrama.
No badinage
their faces turned away
silent as secrecy
in the bright artificial light.
Rewinds of prototypes
of decaying greys
with visions
that glare at shadows.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
You cut right through me.
I am the dying man in films,
gasping and choking on my own life,
shocked at what was always coming.
How is it that death feels so very alive?
I stumbled in a world of darkness
when you found me and cut me down
and all was clear from there.
You, who I thought least of all
taught me the best lesson:
weakened, and losing blood
my heart pumped stronger than ever,
raging and fighting for life
as it never had and I knew then:
I was happy to still be alive.
Jun 3, 2012
Jun 3, 2012 at 9:06 AM UTC