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Aug 4 · 168
When I awoke, your taste lingered on my lips,
Your touch left tattoos all over my skin.
If only I could see your carnage, to revel in it!
I fantasize about your fingers tracing my skin
And your lips burning a scar onto my *******.
Why are fantasies intangible and temporary?
Jun 17 · 192
The Beat
The compression grip of longing grabs my heart
And squeezes it.
It occurs whenever I ponder on a life I have not
Lived yet or a feeling that I long to experience.
Whenever I feel incomplete or unsure,
Or need reassurance; it comes and goes
Like a summer breeze.
But the beat goes on and on.
Summer, beat, heart, sad, happy
May 30 · 30
Night is Day
Never have I felt the warmth of day
Graze upon this sunken face;
The swaying breeze escapes my ears
And does not assuage my growing fear.
The gay day is covered in black,
Never again to show its shades.

Custom phantoms cross my mind
That keep me livid through the night;
While the moonshine becomes my daylight,
Darling morning hurts my eyes.
Night is night and night is day,
For the two have failed to separate.

Ghostly figures have my heart—
Timeless sleep ripens my pain,
Enterprises of lost rest haunt
Restless souls as myself.

Lovely day is now my death,
Faithful night is now my life,
Night is day and day is night,
Night is night and night is night.
Day, night, sleepless nights, seasons, May, spooky
Apr 24 · 234
A Poet’s Request
I wish to kiss you, to use my tongue as a painter would use a brush.
I long to write poems on your skin and trace verses on your heart,
To caress you as a sculptor smoothing out the edges.
Let me explore you. Just explore.
Without any thought of destination.
Just explore.
Wrote this feeling as I needed to release this somewhere.
Apr 17 · 31
Sans Expectation No. 1
Just walk. No need to have a destination
In mind. Just walk.
Just be a spectator to the living earth.
Walk on the ground that has carried your lineage
To great lands,
See how the trees sway for their one-person audience.

Listen, truly listen to the sound of the music
That is formed by the environment.
Let your legs take you to new places
Just as your words take you to new faces.
Walk without expectation,
Expect without reward,
And there shall await a magnificent conclusion.
Earth, living, walking, write
Mar 5 · 58
Love is Not Proud
Love is not proud, yet proud at the same time.
Love, you are an interesting being;
You numb me from the painful cramps of hurt,
Yet when I have you, I can fall hard.

Your blindness allows me to see your imperfection
With perfect clarity. Yet all I see are your
Beauteous features and your elegance.

Love, you are not proud, but you should be.
Moderate pride does not hurt with self-love,
For you know that I shall love you until
I whisper your name a final time.
Love, self-love, perfection
Feb 25 · 41
To my lost one
The horror of not having you present
Rips at my tender heart with brutal strength;
Already, my heart cries for your presence
Churning my blood to tears while taking my breath
Its tears blister my veins and ache my bones,
Which makes me all the more melancholy.
When the flowers fall, I shall be alone—
Not while I am alive to sit and dream.
However, our child shall carry your smile
Your brave brashness, your bravado, your charm
And I shall have your likeness all the while,
To end this reign of everlasting harm.

My darling, my hearts aches for you as well
And I shall be with you with the bell’s wail.
Loss, heart, likeness, see
Feb 22 · 45
The Oration
This morning, I am able to write the saddest lines.
As the sun rises, my heart bleeds for your presence, but you are not here.
The world shall mourn your departure;
No longer shall the sun adorn your eyes,
No longer shall the night hear your cries of passion,
No longer shall others see your beauty in real life.
We may have pictures, but they do not do you any justice.
For your beauty cannot be replicated by the
Strokes of a brush or by the click of a camera.

Not even these lines can emulate your perfection.
For your eminence exceeds the capabilities of my words.
You shall not be forgotten. Your rarity makes you special.
The fact that you will exist only in my lifetime makes you all the more precious.
And that is what make life all the more succulent.
However, you will be granted eternal life through the mouths of your peers,
The hearts of your family,
The Almighty above and through my lines.

So as long as this poem shall live and men have eyes to see and read,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
Loss, oration, friend, hope
Feb 21 · 87
Lost a Friend
I wish I had a happy day
But I just lost a friend today
And I kept begging her to stay
But they took her from me anyway.
Now her love’s a million miles away
And I have nothing left to say
But please come back to me.
Loss, need, pain, hurt
Dec 2019 · 102
The Passion for Ice Cream
Everyday I see the same ice-cream truck go by
With the same children screaming and chasing after it
But one child never gets to try it
Whenever the child gets near, he speeds away
The child desperately wishes for an ice-cream truck to stop for her
So she may experience the taste, texture and good feeling
She dreams, but dreams are only dreams
She dreams for the day she can have ice-cream
One day, an ice-cream truck passes by to greet the children
But notices one is missing
The chant of the truck searches for the girl
But she never comes
One day, the ice-cream truck man asked where the last girl was
The mother stated she wasn't here because
She waited so long but you never came
Whenever she came near you, you sped away
The girl left without ever tasting ice-cream

Everyday I see the same ice-cream truck go by
But whenever the truck passes the final house
The ice-cream starts to melt.
Jul 2019 · 65
Do Words Age?
Do words age well?
Some words, like dinosaurs, become ancient
And they are never heard of again.
Other words, remain immortal
And live for more generations to use them.

Words shall remain the vessels of our emotions
Until our dying breath.
Words will only die when the medium of speech disappears.
Words, aging, importance
Apr 2019 · 162
I Know What You Know
What are you thinking about?
Are you thinking about the words on the page?

I know that you are reading my words.
And I know we are speaking at the same time.

Scribble, swabble, wink, wink, nod, nod, shuffle, shuffle
Just a mere test.

To get into your mind, I have to become you.
And I think I’ve done that.
As I sit writing, my pencil sometimes lifts off the page.
Sometimes I think too much when writing.
When sentences rush to your head, all wanting to be written
When thoughts wage war in your mind, all wanting to be heard
It’s hard to accommodate for all
Words that desire to be tattooed on a page
And to be read by another’s lips
But none know the difficulty of pausing, having your pencil lift off the page because of a lack for words.
Feb 2019 · 98
The beautiful trees stand in glory
Flowers bloom showing their beauty
Grass spreads its intoxicating scent
Every color is vivid and jubilant
Happy for all to see their colors
Spring, a season of balance
Spring, a season of serenity
Spring, a season of joy
Jan 2019 · 132
Help Me
Help me. I’m trapped here.
Locked in a cell that would hold me for all eternity.
Forced to eat food that’s vile.
Made to consume capsules that make me confused.
The white devils strap me down and hold me tight.
I thought angels wore white. I am wrong.
Help me. I need something, someone.
To save my wrecked, worried, wearied body.
To take me away from this nightmare that never ends.
A voice that repeats itself ad infintium.
Restrained, tortured and kept alive.
Who’s there?
Help me.
From this ****** up place.
Jan 2019 · 147
My Friend
My closest companion.
Whom I shared my secrets with.
We were two halves of a circle.
The only person who withstanded my tempest.
Your voices told me stories I will never forget.
You showed me things I never knew about.
We would laugh. We would cry. We would raise hell.
You were eccentric. That’s what I liked the most.
Never afraid to break the rules.
My love for you knows no bounds.
You may be gone, but your memory lives on.
Your spirit is here, walking with me.
My guardian angel.
My friend.
My closest companion.
A brother I always cherished.
A man whom I truly loved.
Jan 2019 · 218
I remember a lot of things.
Things I shouldn’t remember.
Things that made me happy.
Jan 2019 · 89
Through Everything
Through everything she’s been through, I still love her.
She’s seen hell.
She has endured violation of her body.
Came out of war with scars.
I still love her.

She had fought through a battle of immense depression.
Withstanded the whips of oppression.
She rose through the whole fight.
To become a queen in her own right.

Her personal battles inspire me.
Because she’s tougher than me.
They inspire me to be better for her.
For I could’ve lost my love at any moment.
Her survival makes her more beautiful to me.

I don’t love her less because of what happened.
My heart aches for her pain.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time?
She has.

And I still love you.
Whenever you rise from your pain, I rise from mine.
Through everything, I loved you.
And I will still love you.
Jan 2019 · 113
The Baroness
She walks in beauty and with elegance.
But I cannot seem to reach for her lips.
She leaves to go on her annual trips.
When she’s gone, I fill up with helplessness.
I will never feel such a blessedness
Until her restless green eyes come back here.
Losing her is the only thing I fear.
Just the mere thought fills me with dreadfulness.

The baroness came to grant me a kiss.
My heart skips a beat as she walks towards me.
Her radiant smile burns into my soul.
Spirits combined for a moment of bliss.
Our love shall last, it was meant to be.
To be joined at last, to become a whole.
Jan 2019 · 124
Beyond the Mirror
As my reflection stares at me, I notice all the things people say about me.
I gaze upon the same face everyone sees.
Is there something beyond the mirror?
A world I am not aware about?
What happens to my reflection when I leave?

I am scared of my reflection.
The same eyes staring back at me.
Knows my every move, every thought, every sight.
But what does my reflection see through its mirror?
The same backwards world I live in?

Sometimes I wish I could walk through the mirror.
Live the life of my own reflection.
Switch places with myself.
The undiscovered country resides right in front of my eyes.
Yet it appears to be far away.

What life is my reflection living?
My own? Or someone else’s?
To live like lost lepers loitering around on a lost island.
What life lurks beyond that mirror of mine?
For when I leave, shall I experience it?
Will I finally get my answer?

As I stare back at my reflection, I notice all the things it stays to remind me about.
I gaze about the same face everyone sees.
I need to know what is beyond.
Beyond the mirror.
Dec 2018 · 60
The cold, brittle air slaps my cheeks.
Assaults my eyes
Numbs my fingers.
When the snow falls around me
I feel as if I’m in a winter wonderland.
Nothing but white.
The pure white blanketing the ground

The eyes of winter are cold and unnerving.
Bitter with an icy stare.
But behind that visage,
Is a gentle soul who begs to be loved.
Through her cold heart, there is beauty.
For those who don’t know or who are too ignorant to see.
For those who are curious and wish to learn more about me.
For those who have artificial eyes.
I may be broken.
I may be broken in more places than one, but listen to me.
Let me explain myself to you.

Scars sprint all across my body.
Burns ravish my skin.
Those who fear me don’t know their origins.
I wish to tell but they won’t listen.
I try but my words are always blocked by the sounds of footsteps running away.

Don’t let my appearance be the reason why you are afraid.
Under this tortured, beaten, damaged, wanting shell;
Is a person who wishes for a friend.
Dec 2018 · 41
A Work of Art
You my lady, are a work of art.
Eyes are dots of blue.
A different shade on each side.
It brings out the elegance of your smile.
Such perfect teeth; brighter than the white light.
I love when you laugh.
A song with every melody, crescendo and harmony.
Your hair, formed from a painter’s every stroke.
Deep, rich, saturated yellow.
Hands crafted from a god-like sculptor.
A female Cupid, ravishing, alluring and arresting.
Mysterious and occult.
Your figure puts every other to shame.

Only a few can understand your mind.
Get lost in translation and they get left behind.
To know your thoughts, to keep and grasp
For longer than forever, that is a difficult task.
Your mind is a motion picture masterpiece.
Every thought a scene that is picture-perfect.
Each character is perfectly developed.

It has everything I want, everything I need.
A beginning, middle and an ending.
An intriguing plot without an evil fiend.
Something I could watch over and again.
It wins every award in my eyes.
Every single one, every single prize.

You contain an unbridled spirit.
Like a child, always active.
It cries out its primal scream, I hear it.
You shouldn’t be contained, you should be free.
Only then will your spirit call out to me.
Your soul adorns your personality.
It soars high above like a bird.
No one should ever keep you captive.
That person is a fool if they try.
She’s jubilant, expressive, full of energy.
Never tired, hyperactive.
Without my medium, I’ll fall apart.
Because you my lady, are a work of art.
Dec 2018 · 43
Method In My Madness
To understand me, you have to be me.
Live my life, learn how I work.
To see things in a different light.
Create plans and work every day and night.
Noone sees the world like me.
To find its secrets and passages like me.
I love in a strange way to others.
But to me, it’s the most simplest thing.
Never. People never learn to love me for who I am.
But they wish for me to change.
I’ll never change.
Maybe to fool everyone, I should lose my former self.
Become insane.
My words convey my story.
My actions show my life.
Because to understand me, you have to be me.
For there is a method in my madness.
Your priorities became my priorities.
Your life became mine.
I never speak about us in conversation.
Because you occupy my mind.

I care about you too much.
Have no care for my well-being.
You drain me of my love
Now I have none left for giving.

I used to love myself.
Confidence radiated from every pore.
Now you’ve ****** me dry.
My self-love is gone forever more.
Dec 2018 · 126
The pain that bubbles within you.
Keeping you locked in a cage until you’re free.
Pain that cannot be described in words.
You’ve been hurt.

You don’t have to say anything. Your eyes tell all.
Lips shut tight when you want to scream.
Unwilling to make yourself more vulnerable.
You are hurt.

When one hurts, they lie.
Say nothing is wrong and continue the self-harm.
Just as bad as the one who hurt you.

Your pain will reveal itself.
And I will be there to comfort you.

— The End —