Eleven o'clock in the afternoon today,
Yet my eyes find it hard to keep themselves awake,
While my breath struggles to breathe well, to inhale fate,
And my body tends to eat food that starts to oxidate!
And my mind
is still stuck in between it's broken place
While the broken are breaking bones just to give themselves a break!
And I
try to hide my poems from this world, it's timeless fate,
And sit by
while my generation has the largest growing suicide rate!
But my
friends are pushing closer to the end of that date,
While my
family does it's best to help people find grace!
Why would I
who has all this talent try to stow it away,
When I
could use it to save lives, maybe find someone to save!
Someone open my eyes, let them be open wide!
For these past years I've let go on by
While I sit back down and watch them die!
For every day rises a new sun, a purposeful light
And my days were made for more, not just a singular life!
But the rhyme in my poems keeps me tangled inside
Like my words are solution, but the coffin surprise
Is waiting there for me like I can't tell you why
The pages recede and the shoreline declines
While the shadow in secret awaits me at 9!
My words bring my death and the end of my time!
The promise I wrote you was written in white
So I can say I can't see it, I can say that I'm blind
But the fact that we're dancing has it's own facts implied
That I promised you this, but I left you to die!

Forgive me-
These words were meant to make you whole
But it left you a hole in your side-
Believe me-
These lies were meant to make you know
That I would not tell you goodbye-
Deceive me-
Like I deceived you so intricately
Like the ending was designed by me!
Like I'm the mastermind behind the scheme!
I'm the demon of minds, I'm the things that I speak!

Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
Savor the time you've spent,
Savor the succulence,
For you will find yourself looking back
Wondering why, bottled up in regret.

I don’t like having to put in the effort on things that leave an extra page missing
I can’t trust it
You’re every little thread I’ve tiptoed around
Making sure I don’t move on unchartered space too quickly  
I felt like you didn’t want that too
With your experience and all
Your chapters have started
There have been important people
Leaving fly leafs
Or bookmarks
Waiting to be scanned through blankly
Or
Revisited
I don’t know who was important enough
And I’m too afraid to ask
As to who
That little thread head was
So I made a subtle investigation
I’ve wandered around some parts of your book to merit
Audible versions of this girl whose book
So well covered
In dusted promises and doodles
There was an innocence left of her
That was so kept
She needed to hold my hand
To lift her pages so slightly
“Careful”
She whispers a great deal
These past few months
She’s trusted me with
The choreographed pressure of how
To feather the leaves of her past
On good days she’d read back ours
I’ve quoted enough lines and characters and memories
To entertain her of how it once was
The threads vibrate and echo
Reiterated but answers back the same
The untangled locks at least
I’ve seen fly leafs
Those were left with no closure
“We kind of just stopped talking” or “can we not mention her”
I’ve seen bookmarks
Of relatives and family and friends
And lovers
The bookmark had thread hair that tangled up so much that it left an aching worry in my heart
She was a lover
A lover with a bookmark
The bookmark who echoed a little too differently and brushed my skin too often when I’d lift a page
A little too close to the chapter on which she was written about
I don’t have quotes on her
But I have their stories
Stories have become our currency
The currency that equaled trust
The same currency that taught me how she was
And how to be
The currency that mattered
I’ve invested on these stories and have managed the skill of being gentle
I was the chapter that started after the messed up spool of the thread head lover
I guess that’s why it brushes in so close to me
I’m worried that I’ll end up tripping over thread, hold a page too tight
That I’ll rip down my own pages
And mess up perfectly fonted words
Forcing you to
Close down a chapter of me with a torn out page
You were too sentimental to throw away
And just be left as not even
A bookmark
But rather a poor excuse for a fly leaf that
You’d rather not talk about.

All your twisted thoughts free flow
To everlasting memories, show soul
Kiss the stars with me and dread the wait for
Stupid calls returning to us to life

We say to those who are in love
It can't be true 'cause we're too young
I know that's true because so long I was
So in love with you, so I thought

A year goes by
And I can't talk about it

On my knees, dim lighted room
Thoughts free flow try to consume myself in this
I'm not faithless
Just paranoid of getting lost or that I might lose

Ignorance is bliss cherish it
Pretty neighborhoods you learn to much to hold
Believe it not and fight the tears
With pretty smiles and lies about the times

A year goes by
And I can't talk about it
The times weren't right
And I couldn't talk about it

Choris romance says good night
Close your eyes and I'll close mine
Remember you, remember me
Hurt the first, the last between

Choris romance says good night
Close your eyes and I'll close mine
Remember you, remember me
Hurt the first, the last, between

And I'm praying that we will see
Something there in between
Then and there that exceeds all we can dream
So we can talk about it

Choris romance says goodnight
Close your eyes and I'll close mine
Remember you, remember me
Hurt the first, the last between

Choris romance says good night
Close your eyes and I'll close mine
Remember you, remember me
Hurt the first, the last healing

And I'm praying that we will see
Something there in between
Then and there that exceeds all we can dream

And all these twisted thoughts I see
Jesus, there in between
And all these twisted thoughts I see
Jesus, there in between

I’ve written on a flyleaf: I hate you, mon amour
with hard working passion I hate you.
Ceci n’est pas une pipe, your father have told you.

you’ve been so busy to cut the day off from the night
-quite an old fashion-
and just when the silence evacuates  its void to be the great pretender
perhaps Magritte had dreams about annihilation to compensate a ******
but I was dreaming of you sleeping with lions

I’ve felt your cage – the splitting of now and then into so many suspicions –
unbearable waking hour -  I wake up in the dark and I can see that I love you

when the hour gently subsides to the moon
and I can find no comfort in haunting memories
I pray to the air to touch my lips with your gaze

And I hear you say, "I'll take you away"
.
.
.
My love is deeper than the stars
You are bigger than the scars that you feel at night
.
.
.
It's you and I alone

This life is filled with sad, droopy flowers
They need water to stand high and air to breathe
Oh, the pain and torture they devour
Sad, droopy flowers are like a flyleaf

Dandelions, lively during summer
Okay during spring, decent in the fall
Die in the winter, oh what a ******
I suppose it’s an unorthodox call

Living the life that is given to them
Accepting their flaws and differences
A week thread that holds the petals, like a hem
A mask, that holds in their unique appearances

Although some flowers stand brave and tall
It is just as human life after all

Disturbing the birds
Reminiscent of pale leaves
In Autumn breezes

As the doves scatter
A dozen falling pages
Catch the sun's white light

Behind them, they leave
A memoir of their presence:
A small white flyleaf.

“Ransomware Cripples Cities”

                            -a common headline

Ransomware never crippled an Olivetti
But a broken spring did so once or twice
So I carried the old machine to old Bill
Whose magic always made it fly again

Ransomware never crippled a cardboard file
Nor yet the flyleaf of the book in which
She wrote the kindest sentiment of love
In the sweet optimism of our youth

Ransomware never crippled who we were -
I did that to us when I walked away