Senseless bubble erase the fears
Mundane life pulls at heartstrings taut
Carving ridges and trenches of pain
Back beaten concerns and worries
Never fully flush from my flesh
Excitement bursting and dissolving
Like acid into everyone's apathetic ears
Long limbs elaborating tales that could
Otherwise simply suspend with sentences
Splashes of distaste scald at my face
Burrowing deeply into my deep diseases
I'm thousands of degrees to cold eyes
Yet I burn within their icy glares of uncare
Every nerve twitches while others' tingle
Soft happiness blooms into blissful days
Torn by how I feel all too much yet am not enough

and i'm stuck shaking writing fevered poetry
with a broken pen between my fingers,
you're stuck dating a girl you don't love.
you equated your writing with some dark diary you
threw off the highway as if
there wasn't anyone supposed to read it-
as if i don't stay awake for long hours
coming up with questions
of what's in transit from your mind
to the paper,
we both know i wouldn't dare read it sober,
today you told me you loved me.
today i told you to stop

I write this, knowing that I will one day forget the colour of your eyes,

Devastation washed over, this was when I realized

I won’t be able to show you that the sun in the sky was something that I made for you.

I do not like the feeling
of the invisible seatbelt
strapping words to my chest,
still, I'm not safe yet.

I do not like the feeling of deadline
mouth shut, closed
human heart numbing,
I think I'm becoming
sad again.

I do not like the feeling of
my mind bending to work you out,
you are eating away at my heart,
silent music of my decay,

You're my poison gas;
*I do not like the feeling of missing you.

My dear,
Me.
Thrumming underneath.
Sobbing.
My sure soft
Heart.
Sleeping between each broken
Part.
Have we waited here
Before?
Swallowed the lock
Afraid of the
Door?
Little one--
You're not so
Small.
Far far more than we might be  
Tall.
Far far more than we're often  
Limited.
Far beyond such simple
Primitive.
Bigger than these boxing
Halls,
Far beyond our fearing
Walls.
Little heart in petal
Glass--
Pink clear water of the
Past--
Listen now, your worried
Heart.
Don't just pull, but simply
Start.
Sorting through the worried
Ends,
Kissing every broken
Bend,
And laugh with every angry
Knot,
Smile because know we ought--
To know no better,
Or be more good.
Listen to right where we
Stood.
And hold it up into the
Light,
Abandon what we fixed as
right.
Abandon notions of
"What"
and
"Might."
And open now, to endless
White.
And healing
Dark,
Trace along each mending
Mark,
And I, sweet me--
Just simply
Start.

His head wasn't in the right ♇lace.

She'll want to do emotional
and I don't know if I can.

I may write like a narcissist, but
I do not love myself.

My boundaries are messy, I am
messed up. I wanted to tell you

Let it go as autumn does to winter,
Wherein it covers the land in snow,
And where feelings grow sour and bitter,
Only to find ourselves letting them go.
Darling, perhaps we care too much,
And don’t understand what our hearts mean,
For these stories, they all end as such,
To sail away towards where the grass is green.

living in movement
i love life momentarily.
driving up and down hills, valleys orchards...
all pretty things.
i see all the animals surviving with urban decency.
i see all the kids running down from school in nostalgic delicacy.
i want to touch this feeling.
traveling in a way that i forget myself and i become a stranger not only to the world but to my own senses.
a chance for me to forget life itself and let me swim in unleashed freedom.
watching eagles fly and butterflies rest on every other flower i love watching life in its seemingly perfect balance.
talking to strangers i have forgotten anxiety or fear.
sliding down rocks and morbidly enjoying the piece of  "living" my bleeding knee has sparked.
old eyes.
i don't need to know the language to understand.
i listen to life stories and chuckle at the luck i've stumbled upon having another person spill out their life's burdens and joyous moments.
i think this is how it feels to live in the present.
homeless became such a exotically beautiful word lately.
soaking in the blossoming sun, for a second i float in time and feel ageless like life and its rules don't exist anymore and only this second exists circling around the ivory clouds.
i want to live like this.
free.

Her touch
Makes us feel sonder
Completely will we know it?
regardless of the outcome
We are happy

Her presences
Puts I in the state of liberosis
all insecurities and fear
Dissolve to dust and free I am
We are happy

In her absence
Feeling of monochopsis
Drowns my thoughts and I
In her memory
We are happy

At the  end of day
Unsaid words lurk
Unstirred feelings float
We are not happy