sometimes when I'm alone I cry for no reason,
so i think of reasons,
like their needs to be a purpose to cry,

sometimes I dream about the times when I used to burn myself,
so I trace over my old scars,
like touching them will rip them apart once more,

sometimes I think about dying,
so I think of who I would want to care,
and I can't seem to think of anyone who matters enough,

Invisible line of faith
balances the rocks of life
the sun and the moon
the day and the night

hopeful desires of the heart
and the guilty reasons of the mind
many a questions unanswered
line of karma, hard to find

Passive contentment
that everything is right
Or
the proactive approach
for the future bright

Dwindling thoughts
from extreme left to right
Rescuer brain
finds the middle path in sight


Manisha

I find comfort in the static of the record player humming,
the crackling of vinyl against its holding
your arms tucked tight around the curve of my spine
and waking up to the corners of your lips widening

this is a sunday morning
that I could relive
7 days a week

this is a feeling
I am near terrified of
but in a way that I need to be

see,
I have never been one for writing love poems
and when it comes to writing love
good endings aren't my specialty

I'm not one for spilling vulnerability
to then have to clean up the mess
after it goes without catching

I'm not the best at predicting future
and letting go
is an art form I am still mastering

I have never been one for writing love poems
especially not for those
who don't stick around
long enough to hear them
but for you
I am willing
to take the risk
to set aside hesitation
for the chance of lasting
to sacrifice my fear of heights
for the possibility of a smooth landing

I don't know you well
but I know you enough
to know you're exactly what I want

so I'll talk about your smile
how your dimples have quickly become
my favorite half moon to stare at
or the way you look at me
like a single star
in the middle of a busy Los Angeles sky

being enfolded in your grasp
feels like sun peeking through grey
how lightness makes itself known
even in the midst of rain

I want my skin
to find a home in your palms
and my laugh
an echo in the crook of your neck

for routine
to settle on the map of your body
from collarbone to knuckle to wrist
making a transparent dent in each earlobe
to be missed by my lips
to crave the caress of my hands
when they have other obligations

and I'll hope
that I can waste
as much time with you
as I intend to
although I'm sure
that any time we spent together
would be anything but wasted
I hope
that we can stretch these two nights into two hundred
weaving a weekend into something we can wrap ourselves in

this is me saying a prayer
the only way I know how to

I have never been one for writing love poems
but for you
it is all I want to do
to listen to the silence
and from it
form a symphony
to take this coincidence
and call it fate
to give out all of my honesty
and hope that you stay

Here is a letter
Because my hand moves
More smoothly and fluid
Than my tongue and my
Blood rolls down my finger-
Tips painting pages better
Than words roll past my lips
To speak poetry so...
One. I'm sorry i hurt you
You let me into the darkest
Parts of you and I, like a child
Holding a bucket of paint
In a white room, ruined you
I'm sorry.
Two. You forgave me.
Thank you.
You wiped clean every streak
Of pain i drew on your walls
and yes, i left some stains
But you are beautiful still.
You always have been.
Three. You love me, and I
Love you.
I do not believe love is magic
Love is patient as you are with
Me and it is quiet
Like i am with you and love
Love is human.
It lives and dies
And i hope it dies with me
Four. You will lose me
One last time. Before the end
I will hurt you and everyone
I hold dear. One last time.
Five. I will never tire of seeing
Your face. It will keep me sane
In our years apart.
And six. I will wait. Here where
Its calmer. I will wait for when
Your hair grays and teeth yellow
And when your memory shifts
Like sand and you forget us
I will wait. And when you finally
See me here
Seven. I will listen to every story
You had since i left and i will hear
About every single morning you
Spent with another and i will
Eight. I will tell you i love you. For
The first time since i left i will tell
You again, i love you. Fresh
Off my tongue like the first time
I uttered those three words
I love you.

Mourn on my own



I have something to
say in a gentle way
please don't hug me
because i'm a conservative man
meek and gentle
please let me mourn on my own
i'm an introverted soul
and you would never
understand me alone
please don't hug me
no thank you
let me mourn on my own
i'm an introverted soul
i can't put my tears
on exhibition to be seen

shy and gentle
please don't hug me
i will say it in a gentle way
please don't hug me
i'm an introverted man
please let me mourn on my own
i want to ponder on my own
i want to be alone
please don't hug me
i'm a conservative man
gentle of meek
and full of complexity
i'm an introverted soul
and i can't put my tears
on exhibition to be seen
please don't hug me
i'm a conservative man
let me mourn on my own
i'm not a talkative man
i'm an introverted soul
please don't hug me
let me ponder my feelings on my own
because i'm a conservative man of tone
i can't put my tears on exhibition to be seen
please let me mourn on my own
i'm not a talkative soul
please don't hug me
i'm an introverted soul
and most will never understand me alone
please don't hug me
i'm a conservative man
i will mourn on my own
i want to ponder the unknown
and my feelings are not an open book
i will mourn on my own

No revolution, emotional shipwreck, card games, magic, motorcycle, daisy chains, silk, marbles or your mountain nest and jasmine fields. Come with me.

These vibes live, and bleed right through me.
No need to speak, your emotive nature speaks what's left unsaid.
The leaches pierce what's not seen, merely to watch me bleed.
The final goal of these dark enigmas is to make love that's felt, dead.

Those who see most beauty, embrace the worst enigmas imaginable.
We pay the ultimate price, so that sincere healing can begin.
Knowing this, i gladly run to the Gatling gun; cause so many are unable.
My dying wish is to see those darkened eyes enlightened with a grin.

Embrace your dark enigma.

The warmth envelopes
Pastel and porcelain;
“Mist my soul with your breath”;
I beg, I beg.

I whisper to myself,
cradling brittle hands,
and surrender to the mystery
of your tidal sway.

Somewhere you lie,
Seeding clouds,
Nourishing roots,
Stirring violet galaxies.

Come to bleed me,
Find me entirely undone.
I have not breathed
Since we last touched.