being alive does not equate to existing,
and living is another thing altogether.

synonyms are never synonyms.

and im still waiting on the day
where tears will no longer soothe
and voices will no longer crack
and crazy is a word well worn
with empty euphemism

its 12 am
(an early night)
so i made myself a cup of coffee,
then it's
two more to go;
one at 3
another at 5,
just in time for a new day

of course i'm not planning to catch enough sleep tonight,
or any more than humanely possible
this week,
month,
or heck, even
year,

and it's not because i am nervous,
or worried sick,
or waiting for a phone call,
(no one ever rings),

i don't do it for the masochistic side of me either;
there are more creative ways to slowly **** yourself

quite on the contrary,
it helps me survive;
lets me feed into the fantasy:

that i am tired
because i haven't had enough sleep
that i am depressed
because, ***** the chemical imbalances,
its just sleep deprivation
and that i'm having mood swings
not because its that time of the month again,
oh no,
that's a terribly wrong assumption;
its just
lack of sleep.

most importantly though,
it's reassuring to know
that i can be normal
and happy
and alive
if i had
enough
sleep

because what if after a good night's rest
and i'm still the same,
will
i still
be able
to
remain sane?

i'll be right behind you
from diamond to dust.

when its you I’m with
everything goes
qui
et

your presence
halts all  
the whirring
thudding
jarring
pulsating
maddening
spiralling

qui
ntessential
peace

not even
the sound
of my own heart beat

perfectly
infinite
quie
scence

are we just mere mortals,
infatuated with delusions,
distracted by fleeting pleasures,
and drunk on the fantasy that
it is impossible to perish

parental hands clawing away clothes in drawers,
pulling apart closets,
dissecting away shadows under the bed.
but never can they think to ****,
or even scratch
the darkest, deepest crevices in their child's minds.
(the creatures within).

some do it with music,
friends, food or daydreams

others watch blown up human and play gods by the silver screen,
(omnipresent watchers of scripts and acts)

But I much prefer paper and ink;
feelings condensed into words,
sentences which form portals for one to
slip
into
another soul, another place,
another time.

that moment you looked at me,
i swear your gaze suspended eternity,
and defied the cosmic powers of time

I want us to be two souls
Tethered by an invisible string,
Gyrating across space at a hundred miles per hour
Because I know that
even at a lightning speed
You would catch me
Gently, softly, surely,
As I crash into your arms

you on the left
i on the right
impossibility in between

those f-words and s-words are like little space ships,
transversing into restricted territories,
portals into the un-explored world of adolescence,
a rite of passage from childhood to teenhood,
a small crack of the innocence.

futile, feeble, fictious

fastidious, frugal, finicky

fidelity, faith, firmness

fragile, fleeting, frail,

he said hi to me
but,
it was the transparent kind of
hi
with nothing attached to it
no subtle parenthesis
no trailing ellipses
no asterisks
with a small note
printed in fine letters
no suggestions
of saying
i love you

Tip toed to the fridge
Thinking I was the only one guilty of committing the crime
But he is already there

I can't sleep I whispered

Silence.

He doesn't hear me through sips of liquor
The eerily soft glow illuminating his face
Accentuating deep forehead wrinkles

Of course he doesn't need to hear me
He feels it too
The sins of having a fraternal twin
Pain felt by one (always burdened both)

she was a living kerosene
combustible, volatile,
deadly
and my words were
her fuse

the assault would flare when sunrise meets sunset
and thats when I usually loose track of time
because
clocks freeze
the minute hands
viscously crawling by
as if oiled by the kerosene
they're right when they say time's relative

but i inhale it anyways
all her toxic words
fumes of swears
smogs of taunts
all of which left behind
ugly,
black,
soot
tarnishing my soul

but i smile as the smoke fills my lungs
and gladly let her words burn me
because i know
I wouldn't have it any other
way

i want our love to be like the entrance to our apartment

i want it to grow like the weathered, soften rim of our front door-
worn in but familiar and safe

like the heavily rusted, but loyal hinges;
tight and reassuring 

like the cracked flower *** that desperately clings onto bright specks of sunflowers;
hopeful and determined

like the flickering light bulb in the dark hallway that refuses to give through and die out

Is it possible to pour your spirits out
Pluck out all the heart strings
Release a flood of emotion
And undying, eternal love
Dedicate it to
Someone
Or
Something

whenever I miss someone a lot, I just remind myself that
we’re all made of stardust
every atom of me
is the same as every atom of you
every small speck of being in me
is in you

our grains of life collide and merge
and intertwine and weave stubbornly into a tight immortal coil,
ceaselessly,
we are one

and so the distance
is not so great after all

Please don’t stare at me
If you look too long you will see
the growing cracks
the messy loose-ends
and failed constructions
of someone who used to be
hopeful

Sometimes there’s this emptiness in the soul
With which the saddest songs would not heal
And the soft kisses of tissues would not soothe
The burns of the acidic tears
Something in there
Cannot be resurrected
Nor stimulated  
With a thousand voltage defibrillator

Most of the time,
the rotting flesh is still alive
The heart still beats
The EKG device monitoring
Each stubborn peak and trough

Sometimes
In this blind bleakness,
There is still a small spark
An iridescent bubble that refuses to be burst
And with quiet determination,
There is a defiance to live
And sometimes
This small act of defiance
Is the greatest courage of all