"I am a book
your favorite story
but you are illiterate" -Eleven

She used to be my number one reader.
But what happened my dear?
Why did you changed the flow of our story?
Does it bother you?
Does it make you uncomfortable?
Does the one chapter of my sorrow makes you want to *****?

I saw you, you skipped chapter

My story is crying...
Why? Why? Why?

Darling, you can't skip chapters, you have to read every line.

page by page.

Some of my chapters will make you cry for weeks. You'll read unpleasant things you don't want to read.
But darling you have to keep going.
There's a beautiful waterflow upon the dazzling sky of love to blanket it.

But why?

Why did you jump into another book without reaching the end?

Is the excitement gone?

Beaneth the trees of sorrow, and sadness you left me without a word.

You left me open.

Without a single bookmark of "I'll be back"

You are the reason why my ink turned into dark and ravens.

But I guess, you have found a better book that suited your tase.

I'll cherish every moment we'd spent together.

I'm ending our story.

For our story was not meant to end

Thank you for reading.

Goodbye my darling.

"You can't have a rainbow without a little rain"

~ Eleven

your mystery resembles that of
ancestors buried beaneth the living
endless tombs infused with secrets for
only the earth and life in its very self to know
and when in your arms, oh how I wish that I may die
as to know those hidden things that you carry
within your frail frame of humanity and
that beating heart that I immerse myself in
and feel as I did when I was only 4
I understand mediums of distance should be kept
between us, and I give respect to the energy
that needs the breathe there
we cannot suffocate that
we cannot abuse it
I feel you in every extreme
when next to you Im am on the edge
of a building ready to jump
into a infinte fall
I feel you like the love
a terrorist has for his cause
I love you like the mother
loving her sick child in her deepest
height and fear
this
this is how I love you
with every drop of intensity that
I can manifest within my stricken body
I long for you the way the earth
will long for the bee’s after they
banish from this world
I lay next to you like the pedal
opening agaisnt her leaf
and I fall into you the way the
dew falls off the stem an onto
the tombstone beneath it
and when you kiss me
and feed me the liquid of your body
I am the starving immigrant lost
in a foreign desert rescued after closing
his eyes and accepting that death shall come
but then I open my blistered eyes and you
are there
lets walk down streets heavy and engraved
with depth so that we can feel understanding
in what is around us
let us live in places that have lived
as long as we have, where love
such as ours endless, has bred€
the sky covers us with its thunder
and I lay wet and covered in us
my pupils expanding
in
wonder

Strings o' de'd piano singeth,
Voices beaneth its heart, expelleth,
Movin' sadness o' my grave, murmureth,
Coffin o' t'se broken love weep'th,
Every pint o' her voice, serene tasteth,
Every drop o' her saliva, my lips t'en consumeth,
Eyes h've I open'd, memories t'se,
Enigmatic'ly disappeareth,
Hairs o' mine, tranquil breeze pusheth,
Words within my mouth, die in t'at war o' silence,
Shrinketh ***** o' mine, fume exposeth,
Yet the requiem, w'th victorious head o' silence, stoppeth hath not,
Burstin' blisters on fingers o' mine, squeezeth the throat o' thy piano.

I’m just a ghost. The cloud of displaced energy
A soul never allowed to be free.
A shadow of a man…It is seen only by those who need from it’s last remaining power.
I’m a drifter. Barely proving himself through the hard toils of creativity…. Caring for others.
Now this once real and youthful rose is but a pitiful and wilted flower.
They say ,“I’m too old to care for those I yearn for due to my aging..”
Does not wine get sweeter and more valuable if sat around long enough to break out it’s contents?
I fail to see how I have a reason not to float away.
To the areas where days are warmer and the lands are open.
For this unwanted spirit haunting those neglectful eyes
His presence is needed where he is beaneth more hospitable skies.
He has tried to show his strength and beauty in a world where his allies fail to team with him or be truly supportive and helpful to his talented cause.
Debt and medical burden weigh down his will. He fights through these nights of silence.
However, no matter how much he suffers, the ones who claim to be there seem to have better people and events to enjoy.
Than to stick with this lone one and invest in the arts and music that all can enjoy.
He has paid his dues and held back his words.
As he had been disciplined and pushed to be numb to wishing to be real or successful past what they feel is his true potential.
He falls , harder, as his soul Festers and chills.
So, to not be the outcast, placing all I need , asside , is the only true credential?
To being a true friend, to even deserve love?
To even deserve investment into the beautiful artistic functions that he does?
He is unable to sleep at night…Feeling his fate has been sealed.
Now, he needs to build up the courage and fly away.
To where the truer spirits in distant lands shall welcome him and help him, for true hearts nurture the dying souls.
Abandoned and directed by those who don’t appreciate
The beauty he could shine if they let his true nature’s of creation and light, become rightfully revealed.