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unnamed Jul 2019
come home to me, darling.

i left breadcrumbs for you along the river, along the trail, but the forest decided to keep you a while longer. all to itself. how selfish.

you’ve always been so sweet.

so irresistible.

honey drips from your lips and coats your face like a candied apple. it’s not halloween yet but the children yearn for a taste of preserved innocence.

you’ve never been a sweet tooth, you say. perhaps you’ve grown sick of yourself. your sugar tongue melts away into bitter lies and sour endings.

the caramel from your tears form rivers in the crevices of your wrinkles. quick, the pool in your collarbones is overfilling, drowning yourself in what you’ve once hated.

now, you’re just the same:
deadly sweet like the rest of them.
unnamed Jul 2018
Oh darling, don’t cry,
this is merely love’s way of getting revenge.
unnamed Jul 2018
Take a stroll with me
Lets walk on the decrepit road
beside a dulcet rivulet
Asleep from the susurrus of the stream

I fall into step beside you
Ask you to hold my hand
And let me listen to the susurrus of your heartbeat
Just the same
unnamed Jul 2018
My skin dreads your fingertips ghosting over it
Whispering lullabies from the distant shore
My lips dread your pair that trail butterfly kisses to the juncture of my jaw
My ears dread the dulcet tunes murmured from your pillow lips
That caresses the inner workings of my heart with bonafide admiration

My heart—the one you have—is the only one that adores every little gesture you make
Every slight remark
Every subtle action

But the rest of me does not want you
Because as much as I adore you
I cannot picture us together
Without the image shattering again.
unnamed Mar 2018
form a truce with your fears and build them into warriors,
set them on the battlefield and prepare them for war.
we begin to realize who our true enemies are when we fight beyond our own kingdom.
unnamed Mar 2018
fire can never be fully diminished
as long as wind exists to enkindle it once again.
unnamed Jan 2018
i find myself drowning in murky waters,
an oil spill of equations and metaphors,
quandaries and paradigms.
the sun is a constant overcast even on the most blinding days,
faces are grim even with the brightest smiles.
messily scrawled words read chaos on pristine canvases,
incessant scribbles drill canals into my brain.

one tentative tap away,
always one tentative tap away from reality,
but never quite there,
and so i fall deeper.

thin heels clicking against glossy tiles,
heavy footsteps shuffling into classrooms,
distant chatter stalking my shadows,
actuate stings of dread luring me in.

thread-like strings are attached to my limbs,
a marionette with a feeble attempt of procuring freedom,
i am a victim to disorder.

inundated with scattered pages,
furious streaks of neon hues form riots across my desk.
before me stands a mirror of my very own thoughts,
and my mind takes everything in
only to be left with nothing specific in the end.

i work with a jumbled puzzle set,
consisting of no essential moment
to print itself onto my memory.
yet there remains a fascicle of nerves
waiting to be heard,
but it becomes like me—submerged in murky water.

living in chaos is living
where moments are constantly out of focus
and the abundance of simply everything is too overwhelming.

but to wake in the earliest hours of the day
when the sun is still yearning to lie upon a mattress of stars
and neighborhood lights are flickering onto rusty street signs and empty tar roads,
is a blessed refuge from the tumultuous scenes
that plague me daily.

silence slices through the fog of my cognition like a bayonet,
and i blink away my sleep-addled state to take a dip in the tangerine skies.

nascent rays gleam over rooftops,
trees become silhouettes on an oil painting,
and golden clouds blush from the soft caress of the sun.

for some reason,
the experience felt foreign,
like a mirage of all of the images i was never able to grasp.

dawn is a portal to another realm,
a shelter to shield myself from the murky waters,
only there’s still no escape—
i’m just no longer drowning.
i find that i can breathe.

(chaos is loud but silence is louder;
i wouldn’t mind listening to silence for a day,
because i’ve already been listening to chaos for years.)
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