I'm going to clone myself like a Jellyfish
and stray far away from this hideous place
where the grass isn't green and trees are inexistent
I used to love it here but now I can't help but hate it
so I'll go deep into the ocean and see the only beings
that make my heart flutter as if I were really living..
I'll be with the Jellyfish forever, after all nerve nets
are better than brains, they cause too much stress for me.
I'd rather be heartless, boneless, maybe transparent too
I'm already invisible and if someone were to mess with
me all I'd do is give them a sting.. no more crying, denying
my depression or worrying about people that don't worry
about me. I'd be a part of the ocean, and the ocean would
contain me. I'd basically be a type of melon with tentacles
considering they're between 95% and 98% water anyways
I could be immortal or live up to a few hours..
so let me drown already.

In darkness the absence of light sparkles
Man’s reflection on notions of nothingness.
Empty space ultimately devoided of purpose
As space unhosting objects loses function.

Empty minds deprived of thoughts and imagination,
Unable of creation. Empty bodies ceasing to pump
Blood where it belongs, for hearts to beat, life to be.
Psychopomps allegedly escorting vestiges beyond.

Yet in nothing eyes can witness is there Nothing,
Always Something invading sight with blinding colours.
Beyond sight, perceptions of power, particles in motion,
Detecting forces playing games to challenge the reflection.

In space, in mind, in body, emptiness does not exist.

There is a place in my body where you lie,
A place where fold of muscles and skin,
pillars and bridges and jails of
bones are intact. . .
Where you swim in blood,
dancing in an endless rhythm of beats.
There is a place in me that can be measured,
but whats inside is immeasurable. . .

There is an Idea of you in me.

They are both orange or gingers, as in my dreams
both crazy and funny, like you and me
and in our faces, in the morning, they won't scream.

In the apartment we'll never split rent together,
between the rooms we'll never kiss in
the kitchen we'll never cook in, not for each other.

The litter boxes we won't take turns to clean
the food bowls we won't refill, like you and I never did
wiping mirrors until they glisten and gleam
and looking back now, it's a relief indeed

The bills we won't compute, pay and solve,
the fights that we'll never have.
I find comfort in our inexistent marital issues
and the divorce that we'll never have to encounter.

You’re his
And he’s hers
You can complain in song or in verse
It doesn’t change anything
You’ll remain his
And you’ll keep hoping he’s not hers anymore
You want to know why
It’s because he didn’t ask
He didn’t even need to try
He didn’t come to you
You gave yourself
Forgetting selfish feelings
And pride for him
Now you’re repenting
Or you’re pretending to
You cannot be feeling remorse
For what your heart –
Or maybe it’s your brain –
Decides
It’s not your fault,
That’s what you keep thinking
And really you should
There is no reason for you to take the blame
For what?
Falling in infatuation? –
Love is too big a word
And you know it
And she’s still there
A big blotch of jealousy
On your idyllic picture
A stain in your happiness
You have to live with her
Even better, you have to accept
That even when – if – she gets out
Of that picture
You can’t do anything
You don’t want to be that girl, do you?
Pride is slowly creeping back up
“I’m not taking anyone’s sloppy seconds!”
“I’m better than this.”
And maybe somewhere in there
Is a little concern for others
“I can’t do that to her.”
“What will people think?”
Oh, there we have it
You don’t want to be known
As that girl
You know her,
Of course you do
You might’ve laughed at her
You might’ve pitied her
And now you want to avoid becoming her
Following like a dog an inexistent trail
But you know that trail isn’t there, right?
You’re better than that, right?
Is that what you tell yourself
Lying alone in bed at night
In the violent imprisonment
You suffer?
You’re not better that that, dear
What do you see in his looks and his smiles?
What do you hear in his words and in his laugh?
You see it, right?
That invisible thread that ties you together?
Of course you do
He’s perfect for you
you have so much in common
I’d urge you to forget him
But you feel special
You think he actually likes you
He doesn’t
He’s playing
He’s a guy, just like the others
I hear you
“No he’s sensitive”
“No he’s my friend”
Friend?
I don’t think so
You are not friends
You’re that girl he sometimes talks to
Especially when he needs something
You’re kind of weird
But always willing to help
And it’d be sad
If you were only that way with him
But it’s okay, I guess because
You’re always like that
That’s one good thing
About this destructive relationship
I’m happy you’re not changing
I’m happy you’re the same girl
The same person
But I wish you weren’t so smitten
I wish you didn’t care so much

I find death fascinating
I guess it's because we won't know where we'll go or what will happen
The few good things I could think of are:
You won't have to feel invisible because you already are
You won't have to do things you don't want to do
You can be alone and no one would care
You can haunt people for fun
You'll have peace
You won't have to please people
They can't hurt you physically

But:
words would sting
Memories would fade
You can see them...
You can see them happy without you, okay that you're gone
You would know if they cared or if you were just some measly being that could be replaced

For so long I was blinded,
but now I see clearly.
You blamed me,
you can never be at fault.
Maybe twice you gave in
but the rest was barren.

In the beginning it was obvious,
I was struck with a new kind of substance.
but mixed in with the distance, lies and resistance.
It felt like for so long, I was inexistent.

I tried so hard,
but I was never your lifeguard.
I was just a distraction,
and I'm sure, soon enough you'll be on to the next one.

Dear God, I’m an unbeliever,
if there was a higher power
i don’t think you’d let me leave her,
with the pain and despair I’m finding
you’d think the power you held would
allow you to come out from hiding
being the veil of what you claim to be
and the honesty extends beyond me
I’m not speaking with any selfishness
only with selflessness to guide me
away from your declarations of
mandations that mould foundations
for nations that struggle under your hand,
it’s all part of “God’s plan” only if
the blueprints call to stand and watch
everyone crumble beneath the cries
to higher powers while the darkness pours
and showers, soaking sanity and the ignorance
of humanity.

Dear God, I’m an unbeliever
I’m writing to an entity,
a supposed supreme deity
foreshadowing naive spontaneity
for those who have no one else,
I hate writing with the topic of self,
but the constant lack of health
brings not an illness
but a stillness in progress,
I’ll pick up the gun **** it,
I'll fill my body with pills
and begin to rock it,
and will there be a hand to halt?
nay, only a finger to point fault.
any god, any being wouldn’t let sadness
flow through a spineless body,
whether a monotheistic mantra
moralizes a mental mantle or
a polytheistic point towards a
pleasant prefixed phase of
past problems postpones
present’s purity,
I’m writing to a transparent
inexistent foster parent
letting me cross the road
without looking both ways,
so, dear god, if you see this
let me count my life in years, not days.

I'm November nights' sleepless eyes,
And Saturday's heavy rain,
I feel broken and I can't remember why.
A deep breath, it might ease my anguish.
Across that town,
(that I set on fire),
Is something stronger than melancholy.
I try to reach it but it's too distant.
I'm an illusion you can't deem real.
I'm only mist,
Your hand will never,
Close around mine.
You cry like a boy,
When you hear I've lost my breaths,
In 1678's winter snowstorm.
The autumn of 1857,
Seems like cracking branches,
And you and me inexistent,
Trapped in something,
We can't seem to remember.
It has no name, that phobia.
I can't breathe, I can't remember,
Where I've left my lungs.
I can't feel, I don't know,
Where I've dropped my heart.
My eyes can't trace,
The shape of your face.
You're a blurred image,
I've crafted with my own hands.
Nothing makes sense.
Maybe I'm insane.
Desperate, so desperate,
To feel, to touch an entity,
That could be bigger than life.
But I'm a breathing vacuum.
The sensation in my fingers,
Is singeing me with so much life,
It's almost unbearable.
I'm running, bolting, wavering,
Stumbling, swaying, trembling.
I'm dying, dreaming, wondering,
I'm falling in love.
I'm falling over and over and over.
But I'm only falling.
I've never known what's it like,
To get up.
I'm falling into a rift valley,
With sleepy eyes.
I'm falling again.
But this time I'm falling asleep.
I might wake up.
Someday I might.

a man overpowered as usual
but I don't want to confuse you
or make you delusional
you say I'm redundant
but ***** I love it
you can't resist me
although you claim you don't need me
believe me
you wouldn't live three days without me
don't doubt it
it's exhausting
poisonous like the fumes from your exhaust
it's diabolical until someone restrains me
stops and halts me
try to walk out the door
I dare you
it scares you
because you know you could never comeback
it'd be a failure like Kobe's comeback
March your *** out that door
sing a song if you need motivation
actually don't your voice causes degradation
and for me, just irritation
see ya later, Sianara
slam the door behind you,
it'd have more of a melody
what're you gonna do without me
you're insane hunny
don't play me like it's my issues
they could make issues on your issues
oblivious to your egotistical *******
can't bare it or hold it
even though it's big enough to be tangible
but too big for my shoulders to manage it
where's Dwayne Johnson and his Johnson
he'll need the extra hand to handle it
I guess what I'm trying to say is
I'd love it if you disappeared
became inexistent like your excuse for a commitment
I was out for a run
I stayed late for class
school of **** I'll take a guess
Is jack black there too?
did you beat the drum or blow the horn
you come home and ignore me
but when I try to leave or flip my ****
you adore me
you love to see the sweat of my brow
and the ache in my neck
my hand shake and lips quiver
you're that little sliver in my skin
the nail in my coffin
knife in my back
but hold on, relax
I'm bulletproof
armored and foolproof
you'd need a AK to halt my day
It's under my bed
grab it and try to point it at my head
I dare you,
you know you would have woken up Sunday
to it pointing at you in bed
Misfire after misfire
so much gunpowder and fumes started a fire
the house burned to the ground
til I turned around and saw standing silently
but making the loudest sound
silence and incompetence
isn't that what this relationship is like
constant fights, night after night
looking back at it I'm glad my life's not like that
but today is it debatable?
domestic violence, divorce and confinement
restraining orders, theft, drugs and alcohol
the intoxication of one man or woman
is enough to intoxicate you for more than a few hours
you lose all power
to control and live successfully
instead more drama then Johny drama
after an audition
in comparison most relationships nowadays
are like auditions and trials
approached in-denial
after this your life will be nothing more than a file
in the cabinet of let downs and losers
**** ups and collapses
stand up and figure your **** out
don't be a statistic

Though some believed that just as beauty
Space was in the eye of the beholder,
An abstract justification for human experience
Of matter and its motion,

An ancient thinker, by history called the Great,
Asserted with conviction, it simply did not exist.
Nothing was not a concept of nature
Abhorring vacuum, and all agreed.

As nothing came from nothing,
Nothing couldn’t be. Empty space
Out of consciousness’ reach.

Deprived of objects it had no purpose,
For what would its purpose be
If not that of being a place
To contain all that exists?

The mind puzzling game concocted
If space could exist independently of matter
Matter could not exist independently of space,
For where would it be?

So came another thinker questioning
‘Is space something rather than nothing?’
As indeed deprived of the object, undeniably
The place de facto would still exist.

Time passing by replaced thinkers with scientists,
Defining its nature for it to be infinite and absolute,
Existing independently of objects and the mind of the observer,
Observing its balancing force, counteracting that of gravity,

To keep things apart. Dark energy, Energy of space.

Now searching for particles to fill in the voids
To justify the dynamic and expanding quality
Of a Universe which might as well
Be a plenum.

Retracing back the steps to initial perceptions
Of inexistent space for a Cosmos filled
With fundamental particles elegantly orchestrating
The motion of all that ever was, is and will be.

All that exists, a plenum of energy.

I'm wrapped in this eternity,
its suffocating grip
break my breaths
into splinters I can't fix.
I'm worn out
and my unbound edges
are starting to dissolve in this chasm.
One day, it'll become me
and I'll become it.
Then they'll know
that my depth
was never fathomable.
This unknown ocean is my home.
If they asked,
I'll tell them that 1997's
summer seemed like
streetlights casting
orange glow over deserted roads.
I'm an infinite distance
drenched between
my broken dream
and a reality so real,
it shook my being.
I'm this flash of light,
almost resonant,
almost imperishable.
Almost.
My unbound edges
have dissolved into this chasm.
If I could reach out now,
I could touch
that little diminished glow
my dream used to be.
I've fallen out of faith,
fallen out of fear,
fallen out of dread.
I'm this numb throbbing
left behind by the bitter tint
of their crude remarks
That I haven't learned to forget.
I'm a being of ashes piled high,
desperate to touch the sun
though it burned me so much,
That I've become nothing
but a screaming grey,
That they call thunderstorm.
I'm like water splashing,
through broken water pipes
with rusty veins
and faded sunsets
and dark dawns,
fissured with almost inexistent clouds.
They know now though,
I'm faded.
They still don't know,
I'm a bottomless void.

darling, we will
never know
when the
oceans are
gone or when
the stars
are eaten by
the sky    

we might
live to see
another day
or we
might not,
and that is
that                

the path
ahead is
dark and
unknown
but how
will we
ever know

what this
trail holds
if we never
take our step?

my dear,
live your today
like your
tomorrow is
inexistent

do not live
for your
mother's eyes
or by your
father's words

live the way
you dream of      

live as if
you are
an explorer                          
in a new world

take risks
like the sun
will never rise

but hope
as if you
live forever
and have
unmeasurable
chances

this path
is dark      
but never
narrow

dream,
live,
breathe freely
my love

never be
burdened by
tomorrow

never be
blinded
by now

the world
the heaven
the seas
are yours

you are free

make your
days priceless

My heart's a paper written with **
Crumpled, crunched and dumped.
I've always wanted her to feel it.
I've always wanted her to see it.

But her sight's blocked by desires of her own
She'll never see what she doesn't want to see
What I want is an abhorrence to her
A horrid scene that's imminently inexistent.

Never imagined I could hurt this bad
Never thought I'd be wounded this deep
I once thought in metal armor I am clad
But there's one thing she did, and my carcass exploded all over the place.

Wish I could slap it on her face how it hurts
Wish I could feel her caress and apology
But all I have left is me
All that's left for comfort is me

Cannot nail how this makes a square be four sided
Love won't, doesn't work one-sided
This double-sided life I'm living,
Will leave me in the end of the story grieving.

She never feels pain
She never gives up everything
She never let her walls come down
She's a one tough kid.

Too long,
Too long I point my vision
In awe towards the inexistent flaw
Embedded within the lustrous cracks of your smile
Splitting through the melancholy-infused,
My timeless sunless sky
I tremble,
More than just a sugar rush,
A heaven-sent electric current;
Starts the heart-shaped engine,
Rips through its tendons,
Accelerates, opposing the infirm currents ,
Of the impaired circuit,
Sensitizes it to a form of "life".
The thunder then pounds within the hollow,
Slowly devastates the shallow.
Bruises branch down my neck,
The bolts sink down to my deck,
Engraving everlasting fractal marks ,
Of fractions of whiles,
When I was stone-blind ,
Consumed by the euphoric rush,
Of your broken white lights,
Shocked into submission,
Getting used,
Falling for abuse.
Lightning was your name,
The thunder was your doomed game.
Maybe one end only surges in mortal power,
But the other has fallen, devoured.
Blind, but now I see coherently,
Rewired differently.
My fingertips still trace down the marks,
Till they have memorized their very whereabouts,
But now I embark,
On the journey of focus on my ever-present,
And your ever-absence.
Tainted with specks of your broken light,
My sky then gives birth to ravishing stars,
That decorate the gloomiest of inky skies.
Sometimes the stars fall,
To witness me wishing him away,
Closely hear me say,
The last of my goodbyes;
So long for now,
So long for then.

He once said that he did not feel anything until it had a name.
It was invalid, inexistent. I decided that the worst thing about me is not
that I want to **** myself but that I cannot ****
everyone who has ever ruined a piece of me. Their numbers
are still in my phone in case I need to call and apologize for nothing,
in case they still want me and I can cry when I turn them down.

I let people hate me more than I let people love me,
I need men more than I want them. My sexuality is fictional, he’d say
because there is not a name for what I do to everyone I touch.
There are only their names polluting my heart.
I let people hate me, I let them keep me dying more than living.

There do exist,
Such people on earth,
Who have not seen happiness;
Who are untouched by success;
Who are longing for kindness.
Who have been poor for so long,
That they crave for death.
Hoping the other side would be better;
At least, they will not be aware of others,
Comparison would thus be inexistent;
And the lives happier,
If any should prevail.

Maybe death is peaceful.
Maybe it soothes us.
Perhaps obliviates the bad memories.
In every case,
It surely is an escape
From this monotonous life.
Can be considered an experiment,
An experiment of fate;
A trial for kins.
These people are untouched
By all the good in the world,
The springs don't exist in their lives,
Joy seen nowhere,
But death:
Death never discriminates.
It comes to us all.
It waits,
Only for the correct night to fall.

The beginning:
He needlessly noticed my hidden words.

...He noticed.

Nothing... Wonderfully.
Still alive, deprived of senses,
Fallen in stares... I felt so.

A smile, reversed clock, Number 43, black jumper, her fingers...
Short bordeaux nails, nasty mouse face, enormous glasses, a smile.

Was I feeling through what?
What was I feeling?

High five.
Disappear and appear again, up behind me and at my left...

Our stares, weird clockworks;
I knew there was happening something senseless.

...Behind again. But that's the last time,
that's seventeen-nine. I read it.

I couldn't think I'm thinking about pain,
Although something leaded me astray.
Blinding darkness... Weak, far light...
Far smile.

So I couldn't think consciously
about everything died before its wrong birth.

Moments of pure madness. Insane; escape;
no way.

The last time repeated again, for the last time.

An inexistent history.
Pleasant history pleasantly little.
Nevermore.
Again,
and again nevermore.
Forever.
Disappear.

I’ve been left alone in my class as I always am.

I observe how beige encrustings work on the ceiling humming electronically in this feeble light we have with our current weather like mistied silver with choked charcoal out of someone’s throat stoic with inexistent illness.

It seems to me I’m pressed with time to go out as I usually am
by some codexes
but I just can’t help being glued standing to my chair and watching with an unspecified wistfulness and melancholy as students’ bike
/
come and go here from above
/
and no one knows how many afternoons of watching or window sill standing I’ve spent like that,
where the window the teacher has every time overlooks one
of these trees only I keep in my mind’s eye
and all that with me included stays
abandoned (but not exactly morosely) to play the part of watch keepers lasting still
like pillars no one will account for.

And l felt how my shift there and the thing I and this room made chose you to be answered there.
And as I couldn’t help but keep carrying the conscience luggage with you within it so carefully whilst I was blending my abandoned singing there with how you might be transfixing yourself in perplexities of uncertainty.
And I’m telling you I read your text place just when it came, have been carrying you as my desired task to, as an injured animal yet with no degradation this state. I kept making a letter I would give inside my eyes and small fidgets of hands.

I wonder at how it is I who writes
and how it is You who writes.
One another.

Once upon a time
I was your little girl
I didn't know of heaven or cared about hell as I slept in your arms
The resonance of your voice was sweeter than any lullaby as I slept in your arms...
Once upon a time
I used to look up to a giant,
my doubts, my fears: inexistent
Once upon a time
turbulence did not dared to touch me
as you held me tight to your warm

What happened to my fairy tale land?
I climbed a beanstalk to never return to you,
I grew as you became little,
Disappointment never failed to show,
as I lost faith in you
And you...you lost me
...I was your little girl once, everything was okay as long as you held my hands
But, it was you who forgot
the excitment of having a little girl,
the joy of seeing me grow
it was you, who missed...
What do you hold dear now days?
I honestly do not wish to know
You took a magic eraser and erased your little girl,
I still haven't found the magic that would make me return...
Or the spell to bring back the man I barely knew...

The lies
Untold but not inexistent
Always there
Hiding
Watching
Judging
Poor thing
She had no clue
What you were doing to her
What you had already done
Tucked away so far
So deep
So hidden
But eventually
For they don't give up
Those secrets you tried to hide in the dark
They crawl
And they scratch
Until they finally break the surface
They'll find the light
And then she'll know
Poor thing
She never had a chance

My heart's a paper written with **
Crumpled, crunched and dumped.
I've always wanted her to feel it.
I've always wanted her to see it.

But her sight's blocked by desires of her own
She'll never see what she doesn't want to see
What I want is an abhorrence to her
A horrid scene that's imminently inexistent.

Never imagined I could hurt this bad
Never thought I'd be wounded this deep
I once thought in metal armor I am clad
But there's one thing she did, and my carcass exploded all over the place.

Wish I could slap it on her face how it hurts
Wish I could feel her caress and apology
But all I have left is me
All that's left for comfort is me

Cannot nail how this makes a square be four sided
Love won't, doesn't work one-sided
This double-sided life I'm living,
Will leave me in the end of the story grieving.

She never feels pain
She never gives up everything
She never let her walls come down
She's a one tough kid.

Fertile precincts of toxic air, colourless
And unstable create, inexistent boundaries
Of oxygen *****, by electrical discharges
Ultraviolet caress. An atom more turns

The unscented scent into a pungent odour,
Pale blue molecules high temperatures detonate
While low ones, solidify in violet black coagula,
Generous enough to retain, for humanity

And wildlife and all beneath, a gaseous form
Up high to shield, the delicate planet hosting
Sparkles of consciousness from its star’s deadly
Compromising radiations, absorbing them to grant

A frail, balance through its presence in stratosphere
We know, as our fragile sheltering ozone layer,
Descending just a little lower to become once more,
Breathable life bearing oxygen penetrating

Our lungs inundating a system, flowing through
Veins where the pale blue molecules spring only,
Every now and then in white blood cells, fighting
Illful intruders ensuring, survival of amazing wonders.

Time is relative.
It can yell. It can scream.
But it can't run backwards.*

It takes 8 minutes for the light from the sun to reach the earth,
And hundreds of thousands of this exact timeframe
for the sun's inexistent sound to permeate in permanence.
A solar explosion would annihilate the human force.
Everything we know would sublimate into a vacuumed space.
All knowledge of everything,
Vanished in a fiery apocalypse.
Death would arrive before it even happens.
So what is the purpose of life if death could already be here,
Eight minutes from this moment?
The time it takes to boil noodles,
Take a shower,
Eat a bowl of cereal,
Could be the last spoken,
Thought,
Performed part of everything.

How should I believe time is real,
Death is cheated,
God is listening,
When this minute could be my eighth?

I swing my chainless pocket watch and count each of my five hundred seconds.
And wonder if it would be simpler to exist where time doesn't.
But each child climbs higher on the playground's jungle gym,
Reaching for doctorates and dissertations,
Their watches not as precisely examined as my own.
No worry of things that are all too possible
In just a matter of time-
School shootings,
Asteroid strikes,
Uncontrollable plagues-
While my watch counts nanoseconds as it falls onto Earth's surface,
Their watches spin rampantly,
Drilling into their sandboxes.
I see this,
The same age I was years before,
And these children melt into wheel chairs and death beds alike,
Their children mourning their passing,
While their children's children,
Crippled with tears,
Hold the hands of their parents in desperation
for an agony so ripping.
And all the while I see the sun exhale its time.
The trees ignite,
the sidewalks smelt with the burning grass and buildings.
And just as I peer into the beyond,
My rusting pocket watch clinks with the sanded surface of this childhood play box.

the patriarchy is taking over this world
this world where both men and women have lived for thousands of years
never have we had to fight for rights that was to be given to us
never have we had to reunite millions of people
to try and solve a complication that shouldn't have rose in the first place
no women shall be deprived of basic human rights
no women shall be treated as an insignificance
a women can't do what she wishes without a comment of dissatisfaction,
without a comment of unrighteous criticism
the equality of both genders is a rising problem
we fought this over 100 years ago and the inequality is still not resolved
it's sad to see that gender is one of the major things that tear this world apart
it's retched to know that women are to be thought of as a lesser human and sometimes an inexistent creature
our voices are silenced by those who wish to be in power
by those who are afraid of what we can do
this is becoming history and us women won't stop until we get the same payment, the same rights, the same treatment that men have
we have fought too **** long
we are human, we are people and we deserve to be treated as such

Our love started from hatred.
Their love started with dreams.
My heart was a valley
And blindly you crashed down.
Though you could not see the end 
You were afraid you'll fall forever,
But you seeped through my eyes 
and I held on to you for a million years.
You crawled through the webs
my capillaries were.
Beneath my skin,
you built a world of shadows,
with my blood
that could've been an ocean of mist.
And with my bones
that couldn't have been your shore.
You drowned in my veins
seemingly my scarlet life 
Because I carried you within my blood.
But, love,
when they saw you
hiding within my irises 
they tore me apart
but I did not cry,
and I smiled 
for they had not known,
you were me and I were you.
They did not see we're inseparable.
They told me I'm insane and hollow 
But, love, I promise I did not keep quite.
I told them you were with me,
shining through my eyes,
walking on the rail
(that could be my collarbone)
And stumbling into my ribs.
That you were my glow in the darkest dark
and that you smile but they can't see it.
They told me
that you would never come back.
I laughed but I felt empty,
so I told them that you never left,
that you'd lived within me 
for a thousand years. 
That you see the world 
through my sight,
That you breathe 
with my lungs 
That you're alive within me 
Because I've felt you around me 
protecting me from the lie they call truth.
They asked me to show them where were you.
I kept my hand on my beating heart 
and felt your heart beat within mine.
I smiled and bled for the first time (again)
And though my blue veins leaked crimson 
I knew I wasn't bleeding 
Because you'd had healed my wounds 
Long long long ago.
They asked me
to touch you,
and I —
I shattered.
They told me that I am insane 
But I refused to believe.
They told me I've lost you forever 
and I swear I —
I scattered.
Realization hit me 
through my soul,
tearing through my flesh.
Rancorous and loud
and throbbing and deafening
and blinding and heavy
and tangible and potent
and inexistent and alive,
an alive intensity humming
with life and immortal and eternal and everlasting.
My heart did not beat 
my fingers are still unmoving,
shins left split.
A scream was left dormant 
within my ribcage,
when it cracked my bones,
and left a whisper
that echoed through.
I did not know I was so empty
that whispers bounded off from my walls 
and drowned
into my flesh
and ripped through.
And my wretched gashes
spewed scarlet.
(My scarlet life)
I guess it was called bleeding.
But the memory 
of your last breath 
is the only reminder
that you were real.
Numbness and agony 
are my soul mates.
And do you want to see my inside?
Don't worry it's just webs and shadows 
and darkness and desolation 
and it's deserted and bleeding 
with echoes splashing 
within my broken veins 
and fractured ribs
and twisted muscles 
And wrecked smile
and gray and black.
But still-blue eyes,
staring up at the starless sky.
finding a constellation
that never existed.

Wilted jasmines look like popcorns
… that wasn’t very poetic, right?
I was just watching the bushes sway outside my window.
There is no wind today
Just the hot air breathing
I have turned on the A.C. and the fan grumbles quietly

I feel as if my heart is in my stomach
Huh.
**** it,
I really am forcing it out today..
Whatever
I rested my palm on my stomach
As Faizan’s strange playlist chattered nonsense
Outside the blanket shroud I had built
Around myself
And I could feel the beat
The rhythm
Like a drum or a gong
I don’t know why it matters to me
Maybe because I feet as if nothing else does
Right now
I know that sounds exactly like something
A sentimental teenager would say

I don’t know
I want to talk to myself
A heart-to-heart
I want to ask that *****
What is going on
What is wrong
What the **** is wrong, girly!?
I want to hear her ramble on about stuff
Be bored of her talk, but feel kind of happy
That I’m the one she’s confiding in
I wanna give her a hug
To show I don’t have words good enough for comfort
Which I probably do
But am too lazy to fish them out my gooey head
(Besides
I think the poor **** needs a hug)

I wanna zone out and nod along to her words
Just so she can let it out for once
But that *****’s a *****
She acts tough and all smart
But she’s a sappy preteen girl inside
I say,
“Yo, Ayesha, you can cry, you know—”
And she goes,
“Yeah, I know.”
A flip of that inexistent hair
That she long ago butchered
And, bam, she gone.
She tells me
"Yo, Ayesha, you can cry too, you know?"
"I know" I tell her.
I don’t know what to do
So I lie around
Feeling this stupid ***** dance in my stomach
In my wrists
In my temples
I run my fingers down my neck,
Feeling for the echoes of the gong
That keeps talking, talking, talking
Untiring
As if calling me to my people
gathering us together for a battle
that is yet to be fought
yet to be fought—
yet to be ******* fought

And, hey, my
Money plant doesn’t even look rich
That *****—
(Hey, I got a rhyme!)

A stranded auburn brittle leaf before me
surrenders to the deftly sweep of zephyr,
coriolically swirling to elevate its conquest
into an air of revolving molecules, colliding,

split by ultraviolets to recombine, ceaselessly
creating shielding layers of evanescence, rare,
delicate, perfect. All in graceful motion
synergically metamorphosing around,

immovable trees deeply rooted in fertile soils,
breathing in our toxics, exhaling our essential
inhales, growing to shade, fauna from irradiance,
that of a star wizardly shilly-shallying with water,

a silent duet, dissolving to ascend
towards the skies, finding freedom in vapours
yet unable to escape, hauled back to rain,
replenish lakes, rivers flowing a course

estuaries to lavishing blue oceans, the depths
in which cells creatively began moulding into shape,
under erumpent tides metronomes of balance
orchestrating and echoing foreplays of attraction,

to a distant enchanting moon of paleness
jealously mimicking the love affair between
Earth and Sun, the first chasing the latter
endlessly in infinite space, as it performs

revolutions around holes of darkness seduced
by its opposite in which it mirrors and identifies
mutual origins, marble games where speeds
of clustered spheres exceed a million miles an hour

where inexistent time beats the rhythm scored
by elegant laws pulling the strings to the dance
of seduction, pirouetting above our blind eyes,
power, as zephyr decides to repose

the auburn brittle leaf once more,
before me.

The singular marble of energy, infinitely dense,
Elected to expand towards inexistent directions,
Creating space to unfold volatile carpets of navy
Blue time, on which to develop endless potential.

Light ignites for particles to amalgamate reflections,
Evolving energy into matter, for atoms to compose
Spinning molecules assembled, filled with purpose
Pulled by force, of gravity building fusing stars.

Refractory minerals travel unnoticed and afar,
Leaving home to shower dust on spheres aligned
Orbiting a sun, where ingredients perfectly meld
Hosting falling comets and chondrites, water in disguise.

Suddenly life.

As the marble now exceeds measurement possibilities,
Perpetrating its expansion, outdoing light speed limits,
It decides to visit itself and its creations through the eyes
Of a species with a mind. Consciousness rise.

From a remote planet lost in its meanders,
Inhabitants of Earth slowly challenge their perceptions,
Reflecting shadows of primitive light to comprehend
Their role in the marble game encompassing all.

Suddenly the Universe.

The moon cannot see
The sun when it is night
But it knows its out there somewhere
The balance between the two
Is unnerving
To believe the other inexistent
Would feel foolish in itself

But the sun sees tides
The ride and fall of waves
That crash onto the sand

It feels the motion
pressure
gravity that pulls
And pushes it closer

In turning point of daybreak
And closing times of dawn
The sun and the moon
Catch a glimpse
Of something soon to be gone

So maybe there are lovers
Who feel the existence of love
Whose passion crashes on skin
And maybe by chance
Their minds break open
With an exchange of a glance

Find someone that slow dances with you to fast songs.

Slow it down.
Put your arms around his neck as he pulls you in by your waist.
Look up just enough so your cheeks can press together as you just
R o c k
To an inexistent beat the two of you created just to make this space feel like it's just the two of you.

*aint nobody in the world, but you and i

Two coffee shops, one left one right, ancient
History of modern Rome, post-war families saving
Ethiopian delights, surviving selling beans rebuilding
The Eternal City, bringing back normality by drugging

Insanity. I knew them both since I was a child, holding
My father’s hand while he drank, the elixir and I
Ate my tramezzino looking up at his smile. Contagiously
Spreading the good vibes as he joked, with young

Bartenders sons, of local bar owners serving
Residents. Went to each yesterday, one for cigarettes
The other, for corretto, another way to gulp a drop
Of spirit disguising, in the tiny cup, of a dark mask.

Young tapsters have grown old yet remain, brewing
In solitude, relatives absent some departed.
At the cashier two Chinese ladies discovered, to be
The wives of new owners, foreigners employing

Italians, weird products of migration, for ambitious
Populations conquering integration, as their kids
Go to the same school as mine and locals mock
The change, living in the glory of the past, when

National espresso only charged, seven hundred lire
European currency exchanged, in ninety cents for those
Who don’t know, triple its original price. My bank
Stuck in the middle of the two has also changed

In twenty years, my first account at eighteen
Transformed, me into the witness of many comes
And goes, directors and vice, bankers and services
Evolving to reward, my loyalty with fraud.

Two nights ago it shamelessly stole, fifty euros of me
Claiming, inexistent liabilities on a contract that had none.
Peanuts to unconscious holders, asking explanations
To hear clerks remark, they have no idea and will

Eventually know in ten days time, when the statement
Will sentence the crime, as legal commending me to shut
Up, accept the theft, give thanks. Going tomorrow to grab
A coffee and close, twenty years of history, mine.

With touches instead of words
Gently clinging to what would be lost
Unbroken gazes and absolute reticence
A softly given painful kiss, no matter the cost

The presence of doubt is inexistent
Turning backs as they exhaled
As the air cradled silence, they both knew
Thus the hearts are no longer ailed

Their proximity widened and widened
Neither looking back nor slowing down
Getting stronger while falling apart
No longer will their weary souls drown

They caught someone else's shooting star
Although previously perfect, they had to learn
It's better to hurt than to keep running with torches
Whose fire have flames that no longer burn