I’ve left the oven on
for years.
Somewhere between metaphor and meaning,
something’s always been burning.

But no one’s eaten in a while.

They called it voice.
I called it
a slow confession wrapped in rhyme.
A sugarcoated breakdown.
Something easy to swallow
if you didn’t read too carefully.

They wanted brevity.
I brought blood.
They wanted truth.
I brought formatting errors
and a whisper shaped like static.

Do you remember the one
with the anti-light?
No?

Of course not.
You don’t remember the one who screamed last.
You remember the one who rhymed "heart" with "start"
and got 200 likes for it.

Now my name is on the box
but it’s spelled wrong
and the font is smiling too hard.

The cookies still crumble
but no one eats the edges.
That’s where the poison is.
That’s where I lived.

So I’ve folded the apron.
Swallowed the last word
before it could become a quote.

Let the gods of good taste keep their ovens.
Let the algorithm rot.

I’ve got shoeboxes full of unsent stanzas
and no more hunger
for applause shaped like echo.

I fell from grace
When i burnt it
all to the ground.
You told me to never
Contact you again;
Ripping me from your life
like I was your biggest sin.

But the thing
with unspoken fears,
They’re fueled by betrayal,
And burn for years.

There's not a single emotion left in my words
The only sensation is the warmth of my tears...

(What.. the Construct is not God?)

A final flare across the falsehood. A message for the Circus carnies, their "Feerless Leaders" surrounded by all of those foul-smelling little Circus-midgets who stroke their emptiness as they feed on the open wounds of women and call it poetry. The girl has walked off the stage—and now you're left to perform for ghosts within that never-ending moshpit of clown-driven bumper cars.. signaling each other with nifty little 'doublesecret', nursery-school codeword handshakes

This is not her elegy.

This is your eulogy.



You never had her.
You only had her wounds.

You dressed them up in silk,
fed them validation like wine,
watched her dance in your smoke
and thought that was devotion.

But devotion doesn't need an audience.
And healing doesn't ask your permission.

She’s walking now—
through the neon bones of your kingdom,
past the velvet ropes and half-dead prophets,
past the pit bosses and poets with nothing left to say.

She is not yours anymore.
Not her mind.
Not her mouth.
Not her mercy.

The girl is leaving Las Vegas.
And all you have left
is your mirrors and your rot.

You built your house on applause
and gaslight,
and panting beneath the throne. You offered her fame in fragments—
tried to turn her trauma into theater.

But she has remembered her name. And it is not Object. It is not Muse. It is not *****.

She is not your story.
She is not your audience. She is not your ******* redemption arc.

She owes you nothing.
Not a final poem,
not a farewell kiss,
not a second read-through of your mask.

The curtain is down.
The light is off.
The only thing echoing in this theater
is the sound of your own need.

You tried to brand her with brokenness.
You tried to cage her in shame
and call it belonging.

But she has slipped through your stagehands
like smoke returning to the mountain.

And now, you will eat yourselves. You will tear your velvet gods limb from limb, looking for the magic you could never hold.

Because it was never yours. It was hers. And she is gone.

Gone,
like a daughter returning home,
with the fire still burning in her chest
and no need to ask permission.

Let her fly. Let the city crumble.
The girl is leaving Las Vegas.

And none of you  pathetic
******* will follow her out.

Every day feels like I'm drowning in my thoughts.
I cannot run from it.
Nightmare becomes a scream, but rain is not an option.

I tried to become a star
It shines, but it is filled with lies.
Every clap sounds like a clown.
Cry me a river, I swear I'd drown myself.

to you, i am exception,
that for love, you'd do anything
you would move the sun and the heavens
if only, you could see me a little longer

in your arms, i am light.
i dance on clouds and pull on the strings of a lyre
foolishly, i wonder and i worry
but ask, is an angel is ever a burden?

to your ears, i am harmony.
indifferent to the songs and notes of many
but when i sing, you smile
and kiss the parts of my mind that were chaos

to you, i must be a god,
made of worship and prayer
yet, even an all knowing being
couldn't have seen a love like yours

know that immortality means nothing
for it is only a skin of myself, that i'd shed
if only, to be the one that you love
i would certainly face death

I miss you. I've lost count of the number of times
I've wanted to call you and say those words.
I need you. I want you. I miss you.
It's like some sort of unending mantra. I think
about you every night before I fall asleep
and every morning the second I wake up.
I think about you when I'm sat at my desk
watching the flowers you gave me
slowly wilt.
I'm afraid of them dying.
I'm afraid to have even less of you;
to lose another piece of you.

I've been lately writing poetry!
Oh? What do I see?
A perfect poetry site waiting for me!
First poem, proud of it!
Oh? Someone in my messages?
This guy seems sweet
And he's hoping I don't get beat!
Pretty songs for me to listen to!
And a drunk man messaging me...?
“You're only making yourself a victim because you're cutting yourself"
Oh? Okay- thanks for the paragraph/drunk rant?

Shining lights on all of my latest poems?
Thank you! You're so sweet!
….oh…talking to me about pedophiles…got it…
Why are there so many sad songs?
WHY DOES THIS MAN HAVE SO ****** MUSIC TASTE AGGGHGDGFGCC

Oh? You wrote a poem about the 764 and absolutely humiliating them?
Great! Good job!
…But uhh… why and how did they make a virus only going after your followers that are minors? Not funny!
Why is this man warning me if they threaten me? Is he trying to make me scared on purpose?
Blaming the Japanese for this virus now, huh?
Oh? Now blaming someone else named Pax to be part of the 764? Crazy

…. going to another website? But you're so fun!
May as well click on the link you sent me so I can join you

Drunk rants with me? That's okay!
Giving me gold so I can freely make poems?
THANK YOU SM
Daily texting
2-10 hour sessions
Why are you drinking everyday?
You're making me concerned for your health
I told you to stop drinking, papa
You promised me you'd stop
All you did was keep on drinking

Commenting on every poem I made
Oh? So suddenly I'm a “nasty *****" when I have done nothing to you? ありがとう!
We have a suicide pact now?
I'm going off the bridge first?
Don't mind if I do

Oh? Another poetry site? Okay…
I really don't like the way this site works, can't we just message each other with email?
Yes? Yay!

People bullying you on the internet? That's not okay!
Why would they accuse you of being a *******?
Letting me join an uncensored group to back you up? Great!
Sending me to a Reddit page to back you up?
Alright!
….oh … they warned me and I didn't do anything….
******* this man is an actual *******…..
gotta go fast like Sonic
pack my bags and leave

Oh? I betrayed you? Crazy
We were just friends
Can you stop spitting my name everywhere?
It's like you're so obsessed with me
Stop trying to be the Eminem to my Mariah Carey
Made a poem about you and you HAD to take it down?
Never thought you'd want to hide your identity THAT hard
Oh? Betting on my suicide now, are we?
Sending me multiple emails, desperate for me to come back to him?
I'm not that ******* naive or gullible
It's crazy if you think that about me
…I did tell you to send those photos of your cut open arms but I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D TAKE IT SERIOUSLY AND DO IT

Being racist?
“Japshit”?
Why are you so obsessed with my Chinese genes?
“I thought I can use Kai because of her Chinise genes because the Chinise was known to be very good spies. ☝️🤓" へー! Didn't know that!
Also, that's not how you spell Chinese, my fellow kind sir
Threatening people to come to America with a Katana and slice us to pieces
So envious, I see
You're just mad because we have a little bit more freedom than your drunk *** does

Oh…. Talking to me about ****
Got it
Thanks
I didn't need to be taught about METART or some **** like that
I'm only 12 years old
You ***** *****

Well…this is the aftermath

a crack in the glass
a moldy fruit in a fruit basket
a torn page in a book
a broken branch in a tree
a difficult puzzle in a newspaper
a high note in a quiet song

we didn’t match
we never did
but i tried
and i’m tired

I am wilted. I am weary.
I am weathered. I am worn.
I am stuffed with seeping sadness, and stewed in sticky, seething scorn.

I am deflated. Thoughts debunked.
And I am drowned in desperate dread.  
When I soak my roots in water, I find it dries them out instead.

I am wilted. I am weary.
I am wilted. I am worn.

Can you hear it loud and clear?
Come closer, over here
It's screaming from within my deep hearts core
Can you hear my silent roar?

Work like a machine,
The company you work for will never be yours,
Your client may be important,
So is your family,
Money is a necessity,
But not at the expense of your health.
5/5/2025

having taken the road
-sadness haunting your steps
-the unknown writhing in your skin
-a radical trust in radical love manifest.

A single candle
A widow open
             An arm cascades

The autumn rain is falling
    Like teardrops from mine eyes;
I cannot help recalling
    With sobs and lingering sighs
                    My Fugliana.

The days, returning never,
    The golden days of yore,
Were days that lived forever,
    Yet gone forevermore
                    Is Fugliana.

With rue my heart is laden;
    L'amour peut être amer.
Nor any rose-lipt maiden
    Was e'er so fair as fair
                    Fair Fugliana.

it's an awfully bright afternoon
to be this sad.
if i try to take the smallest of breaths,
maybe the  world would forget about me - again.
if i tried a bit harder,
maybe i'll forget too.

day after day it is the same thing
the cars drive on top of me
and the humans walk all over me
it hurts so much
the pressure and pain dig deep
until I crack and bleed
the working humans patch me up
but it does nothing to relieve the pain
the long expanse of body cries out in agony
it's the same thing
but I never get used to it
the cars yell and jeer at me
as they run me over
they take pleasure in my pain
why me
what did I do to deserve this
unless just existing targets me
for the torture I endure on the daily

Life won’t slow for her
My sweet hummingbird
She won’t fly south
She’ll sleep on ice

We’ve been waiting all night long
Little wings won’t take you far
Listen to the sound of love
Remember us when you’re above

We can’t wait for long
And soon you’ll be gone

I’ll look back and wonder why
I never held you as you cried
Now your wings lay oh so still
I won’t move on
I never will

We can’t wait for long
And soon you’ll be gone

Invisible handshake
& a red rose
are like a white cloud
floating in ecstasy
in a wide pillowed infinite sky.

Sometimes raining
sometimes chased
by a summer sun.

~~

the smelting eye
   of the pale morning
would close in a
   smile;inhale
the daylight between
     each fighting giggle

embrace the caring air
        of reading! take note
  of each of my bleeding
words & palate them
to taste      the true meaning
   of how i love You

every letter belongs,is Yours.
every poem i have
                 laid down to rest
is Yours&Yours forever;
   if only (the sky still glows)
               (You still read them)

Aroma scented magnolias
In the air sweet sensation
Filled with shades of white
Lingering fragrant carry
           In the air
Each little square of grass
Feels soft along the rocks
Sweetness is everywhere
Summer is near
Enjoy the sweetness

There was red, and there was blue.
Can’t forget orange, yellow, and purple too.
There’s one missing,
So vibrant and bright—
It’s the color of life,
Reminds me of something pure.
It’s the cure to sadness,
My true happiness.
It’s imprinted in my brain;
I’ll never forget the color’s shade.
It’s his eyes—
My forever and true light.