we wrote more poetry
in the wrinkles of your sheets
in one night than
I have written in the pages
of my journal all year

when people tell you that you are 'important' they do not mean important to the entirety of space and time and existence and everything that has ever been and ever will be. because we both know well enough that the sun will rise without your eyes to admire it. the oceans will grow and recede without your weary feet to marvel at how it makes you feel young again. the bones in the ground will continue to decay without you to contemplate the beauty of life or mourn its passing. the stars wouldn't die and the flowers wouldn't wilt and life would go on as if you had never graced it.
what they mean is; you are important to their own existence. the sunrise would mean nothing to them without your eyes holding it captive alongside theirs. the ocean could retreat into a crack in the ground or flood the earth and they would not care if you were not here to weep for it. the bones in the ground would decay but it would feel like theirs were doing just that. the stars in their sky would disappear and the flowers would wilt at just one glance and their life would never be the same again.
so next time someone tells you this and you make haste to deny it because of how the big bad world will spin on and the planets will laugh at your insignificance, stop and realise what they are telling you and try to think about it the next time you want to vanish for the rest of eternity.

Be bold
For the sake of
Beauty's presence
Born of a child's smile
A lover’s laugh
A raging current
Cutting across
Foaming waters

Be bold
Outspoken for a token
Of love’s flowering affection
Of hopes name
That scars the heart
But tells only truth

Be bold
When others falter
Failing to offer
Kindness
Because they are scared
Uncertain, or simply
Never cared

Be bold
To be alive
While you live
Knowing you will die

Be bold
Soaring to help strangers fly

I am a rock, I am a stone
If you want to we could bone.

her sleepy eyes looked up to
the sunless sky that was flooded with
tiny cloud like droplets
that coated her fluttering dark eyelashes.
she was walking on the train tracks;
her safe haven.
she found her peace here,
knowing that the trains had
a destination, so she must too.
she was thinking,
about how she always thought
snow was too romanticized.
the tracks was her spot
and her spot only, until today.
he reached out and grabbed
her hand, knowing
she was lost in thought.
he understood her
something she thought was
near impossible.
he smiled at her, as the sun
peaked out, just in time
to warm both of them,
just as he had warmed her heart.
it was a moment of apricity
on a cold afternoon
just like he was the warmth needed
to make her heart complete.

With mechanical portals known to be doors
That either lead to different worlds or take you home,
These cabled vehicles like tunnels on wheels fastened on a railroad track
Stretch to both ends of the universe under a single route.
And as you get in for closure,
You put your trust on the obscure.

Just say the magic words;
It will take you anywhere you wish to be.
Even though magic always comes with a prize,
The only cost are countable units of your time
And also a few dimes,
In return for the travel of your life.

Across the carpeted walkway of reaching out,
Through the glass windows of visible silver lining,
Behind the blank and arid faces that lure the soul to sink in deep wonder,
The lights and skyscrapers, and mist silhouetting the scenery,
All appear in bokeh, all blend in your eyes;
Your eyes that glow brighter than fire on ice.

The coldness lashing perennially on your skin
And shaking your bones to its final breakage,
Couldn't beat the absolute zero amity between these strangers.
But your fascination has enough radiation
To melt the tip of the iceberg
And shine over what's behind their opaque walls.

Settled on the plastic seats that serve as time machines,
They nestle between unfamiliar bodies;
Static, in a state of inertia.
Blocking out force, resisting change;
Like cars stuck on parking mode,
Couldn't bring themselves to unload.

Grasping on loose handles
With a grip more secure than seat-belts,
Some tend to pull away despite of the constant push.
Like engines on reverse, they take time to backtrack.
For all we know, for every action,
Is an equal and opposite reaction.

The brakes hit; there goes a screeching sound.
But when it comes to a break, we don't really hang back
Or fall to a complete stop;
We only slide forward.
For we must keep moving ahead,
In order to keep our balance.

The portals once again unlock to let you out to the open galaxy
And let in another for the same adventure.
You've reached the end of the trip,
But not the end of the road; nor the destination.
For the journey is infinite; you know you are going to ride again and again,
Until you've run out of wishes of where you want to be where.

We'd laugh at life
if it weren't so serious;
we'd laugh at death
if we weren't afraid;
we'd laugh at pain
if it didn't hurt so much;
we'd laugh at circumstances
but we'd get nowhere.
I suppose, truth be known,
we'd laugh if only we
hadn't forgotten how.

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