don't tell me
there are other
fish in the sea

when you're
the entire ocean
to me

You lay there missing her,
I lay here missing you.
My mind gets flushed
by all the boggling
memories.
They linger in my
caliginous mind .
I miss being in the
ecstatic state and
also the butterflies
you gave me.
My cheeks which  
used to turn crimson
red now look pale
with no blood rushing
through them.
Your atramentous
enticing eyes hold
all my dreams and wishes.
They make me believe
that magic exists and
so does delectation.
You have cast an
irreversible and
unbreakable spell
on me which makes
me wanna hold
on to you.
You are as addictive
as lithium and
as gorgeous as
a free enlightened
soul.
You are my only
antidote that can
bring me back
to life.
Your atoms have
collided with mine
and are creating a
new galaxy.
No matter what
but you are that one
star in my sky that is
impossible to forget
because the merriness
I get when I look at your
empyrean face cannot be
compared to any other
happiness in the entire
galaxy.
You will always shine
the brightest in my
obsidian sky.

I write poems because,
Poets are the people,
Who understand how i feel,
How it is like to love,
To lose it,
I write my madness,
Craziness,
Faithfulness,
And like many artists,
My loneliness,
Poets don't criticize,
Like the rest of the world,
They may smile,
Or cry reading,
But never be leaving,
An insult,
Because they understand,
They know the pain,
They feel it,
When i have a problem,
I have no one to share with,
No friends,
Not siblings,
Definitely not my family,
I turn to poetry,
I can write what i want,
I write what i feel,
I write out my troubles,
Rhyming words,
In small thought bubbles,
And crying inside,
No one to sit beside,
No one to hold,
Everything is cold,
Poetry is the only thing,
Keeping me alive,
it helps me survive!

wake up.
breathe; inhale, exhale.
repeat until you become nonchalant.
wash your face.
look into the mirror and tell
yourself you're ******* great.
even if you don't believe it.
tell yourself that today is your day.
even if it feels the complete
opposite from that.
then, brush your teeth.
go for some coffee.
even if you hate the taste.
smell it.
realize life is total ****. (sometimes)
start your day.

But I would rather be horizontal.
I am not a tree with my root in the soil
******* up minerals and motherly love
So that each March I may gleam into leaf,
Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed
Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
Unknowing I must soon unpetal.
Compared with me, a tree is immortal
And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,
And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars,
The trees and flowers have been strewing their cool odors.
I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping
I must most perfectly resemble them--
Thoughts gone dim.
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
The the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

for Susan O'Neill Roe

What a thrill ----
My thumb instead of an onion.
The top quite gone
Except for a sort of hinge

Of skin,
A flap like a hat,
Dead white.
Then that red plush.

Little pilgrim,
The Indian's axed your scalp.
Your turkey wattle
Carpet rolls

Straight from the heart.
I step on it,
Clutching my bottle
Of pink fizz. A celebration, this is.
Out of a gap
A million soldiers run,
Redcoats, every one.

Whose side are they one?
O my
Homunculus, I am ill.
I have taken a pill to ****

The thin
Papery feeling.
Saboteur,
Kamikaze man ----

The stain on your
Gauze Ku Klux ****
Babushka
Darkens and tarnishes and when
The balled
Pulp of your heart
Confronts its small
Mill of silence

How you jump ----
Trepanned veteran,
***** girl,
Thumb stump.