i wished i learned
how to let go
from the get go
because i wouldn’t
have changed faces
like a gecko.
her body was temple,
i painted art deco.
i fell for her tempo,
it resonates like an echo.
i trembled at her tone,
yet her treble alone
could break any heart
made of stone.
she’s known
to play her part,
she’s shown
she can master it.
she'll hit every note,
she’s drop dead
accurate.

© Matthew Harlovic

You twinkling eyes stare me down
Crying invisible tears of pity
You place your fading hand in mine
This is sympathy
I can't control my urge to flea
Your bleeding pupils hounding me
All I want is to escape
To a monochrome normality
That soft smile sickens me
I need fresh air
Away from concerned faces
Though they care
I can't help but feel
I am lesser

I'm isolated in this eggshell field
A barren land filled with people
They wield their swords of saviour
Dancing round my every sniffle
I feel chained down by their love
Suffocated by every fleeting word
Drowning in the sound of sympathy
I'd give anything to take back the day
That they found that I'm
Not quite okay because
They never listen now
When I say that
I am

I feel comfort in the familiarity
Of being lost
Peculiar in its irony
Its definition reversed by my falling in love
With the freedom of not being found
Sometimes it's more peaceful
Living quietly without the sound
Of homesickness in your ear
Eyes wistfully on the clouds
Thoughts pondering in head
Soft promises vowed
To a place not seen again
It feels to me like exciting exploration
Sights locked in mind
All these complex illustrations
Of trees, streams, crumbling walls
That otherwise would of went unseen
All these beautiful kingdoms
Adorned by the falling leaves
Of this year's autumn
How could I not fall for that?

I killed a butterfly today  
then tried to write a poem  
I don’t know why I did it  
It died without a home  
It struck me as compelling  
as I recalled what my parents used to say  
be mindful of your surroundings  
a flap of butterfly wings can change a day  


I thought little of it then  
yet now I obsess as I reminisce  
if a butterfly flap can change so much  
what of the absence of it?  
Have I sealed my fate to infamy  
or paved my way to riches  
but maybe if I **** another?  
my unforeseeable fate switches  


But what’s a butterfly to me?  
it wasn’t much before  
now you expect me to believe  
it holds the key to what’s in store?  
Free will must exist  
at least as long as I believe it to  
foolish of me to think my dead butterfly  
could have some affect on you  


Yet I sit here thinking  
of thoughts I’ve never had  
a liar I would be to tell you  
that I haven’t changed a tad  
It did not have a name  
and I did not have a reason  
yet as I blankly stared down  
I felt as if I had committed treason  


So I sweep away the body  
and leave the room to clear my head  
if my hand’s never clapped  
this butterfly would not be dead  
so be wary of the change you bring  
the waves you choose to make  
that butterfly could have changed a day  
and not believing that was my mistake

Allure to me with your bonescent,
sweat stench brought me closer.
Bone structure kept you here.
In my radius you stayed.

So nearly an artist, fickle.
Dearly departed, I miss you.
Brittle.

And I just kept saying no;
I couldn't handle you.
You must've miss understood the tone;
outspoken through the mandible.

Now I was out of my mind,
Insane at best.
Out of the body experience from inside the mind of the cranium.
Actually you were caught in cult of her anatomy.
First born in the ossification of you.

The next time he spoke,
awoken a sentiment.
The exoskeleton protected what was hiding inside.
And we decayed decayed.
His skeleton exposed; he grew on me like bones of a child.

And I've known his scent still sticks to my shell.
Under my skin and underground,
in the catacombs.

But only bones sent me here.
Just to snap back to reality