You,
We do not talk anymore
and I know that you don't want to talk
anymore.
And I understand, I guess.
I can't really blame you,
can I?

After all, I left you with nothing
but unanswerable questions
and seemingly infinite tears.
So I can see why
you do not want to hear my voice
anymore.

But, you, do you remember?
The laughs?
The quiet nights alone
needing nothing but each other?
I was only happy when you were happy,
you could only fall asleep in my arms
or wishing you were in my arms.

What about the parks?
And the late nights?
And the whispers?
The skin, so much skin.
Passion rang through us
and we reverberated a tireless song
of contentment and ease.

And the fights weren't that bad,
the nights alone weren't terrible.
I didn't make you that unhappy
until I made you miserable
as I walked away forever.

You, do you remember those halcyon days?
I wrote you poems,
you made me a crown of flowers
that wilted hanging from my rear-view mirror.

And as the days go by in which you
resent and yet again resent me down to my soul.
I will hold no bitterness towards your name,
and hope that, eventually, you can do me the same.

I've become undone
I've lost myself
To a world of lies and hate
A world where no one cares.
I've become nothing
I've been left for dead
In a world where I've been cut down
An endless aching misery.

I've never been good enough
I'm afraid of breaking for good
I've never learnt to dream or believe
Because I know I'll never belong anywhere.
I cannot see where I'm meant to be
I've been left alone in a world so cold
And I can no longer live,
These nights have been too long.

I feel I cannot carry on
I'm not one of those lucky ones
I can't hold on to this life
When I'm not strong enough.
These violent dreams
Shake me awake and I die.
I wanted to become somebody
But all I am is a wilted brittle rose

Hello to the 3-year-old who lost innocence early,
Losing a world of purity and light.
Now grown, shedding a face set to default
For one deemed "acceptable"

What does your true face resemble now,
As you mold to fit in?
Do you still grasp the understanding of your expressions?

The thoughts haunting your mind,
Are they the norm you perceive?
Staring at the ceiling,
Heart fluttering in panic.

Is it fear that grips you,
Or a fleeting relief?
Does the weighty silence
Lead you to seek solace in music?

Where do you wander
As rhythms loop endlessly?

A day will dawn, breaking
This cycle of self-neglect.
How will transformation manifest?
A lily in hand, turning crimson,
Or finding peace amidst wilted petals?

Eyes meet with supposed warmth,
Yet fear misconstrues as judgment.
The first syllable of your name
Raises goosebumps of dread.

Visible and heard, unwanted,
In the unmerciful words of others.
Sinking deeper into masks,
Straying from true selves.

Why are your smiles held with
Scotch tape and glue,
Holding despite the cuts of insults?
How do you continue
As a mere stepping stone for others?

Answers unfold within the hourglass
As we journey on, unsure.

There are wilted flowers on the
windowsill, their vase small and
cracked, the water long since
evaporated.

The wallpaper is faded and
torn, long strips of it
hanging down like
decaying leaves.

She looks up from
her notebook at
a faint memory etched
upon her skin.

13
Dazed and confused
Hiding from the world
Hiding behind the canvas of your mind
Seeing vibrant colors in a world that's black and white
Seeing things no else could ever possibly imagine
Making our universe your own personal portrait
Pulling the moon through the window
Dividing and conquering most of our planets orbit
Paint brushes for fingers and oil paint running through your veins
Creating beauty in mass destruction
The boy with all the keys in the world with all the locks
True to yourself and full of life
16
Dazed and more confused
Still hiding
Not from the world but from oneself
The vibrants colors melted down into the cracks of earth
Leaving life dull and grey
Tore down your paintings and replaced them with posters of models
Not the models you want to see
But the models you’ve convinced yourself your suppose to like
Lies,lies and more lies
No longer true to oneself
Paint brush fingers got wilted and turned into something ordinary
Surround yourself with the oblivious
Drink and party to fulfill your emptiness
Copy of a copy of another copy
What happened to you?
Allowed the moon to turn on you and allowed your world to switch

I gazed upon a bed
of trampled weeds
and early blooms;
their bodies crushed
and soft white petals
wilted to the ground
For them,
fear was their only sound
A few brave stems,
wavering in an effort to stand tall
desperately helping
the others to not fall,
dripped of strength and courage
I swayed fearlessly
with them in the softest breeze
as a new rain sprinkled
them with hope

It is for them that I pray tonight

boys were fun
for a while

with their tousled hair
flopping freely
like wilted flowers
over eyes
that peered
just enough
through the cracks
at me
like a scared child
to make you want to go
and pull them through

boys were fun
for a while

kissing different ones
was like eating
an assortment
of creme filled chocolates
never knowing
what i was going to get
till the end

like an italian gelatto
on a hot day
some were
sweet & refreshing
while others
burned me
like bitter herbs
leaving a bad taste
in my mouth


& i
like a plant in the desert
freshly rained on
didn’t realize
how dry
my needs were
until i met you

now
i no longer
go out to play
cause
you placed
my expectations
so high
that
like a cat stuck in
the tallest tree
i’ve been unable to bring them
down since

You are wilted
And I have found you climbing iron lattices that I have only known in passing
Like the forget-me-nots you’d pick the petals of
“He loves me
He loves me not”
If only I could become immortal.

there we go, all our echos
fade into the dark.
voices and lights glow in the blackness
of this room
like the love we made in our hearts.

here i am, my soul is naked,
it's standing before your eyes.
i'm wearing my favourite colors
as my body fades into the light.
don't forget about me baby,
i am the one with the future hazy
and blue.
what about you?
are you true?

hand in hand, all our pain
drifting to somewhere else beyond here
lifting our heads while our spirits
are six feet underneath
the places we feared

here i am my soul is sorry
it's wilted and damp in your hands
i'm just a silhouette
and i need you to understand
don't forget about me baby
i am the one with the future hazy
and blue.
what about you?
are you true?

Only seven years old
And I was no longer a beautiful rose.

Wilted, dying, deflowered.

But like a tree falling in the woods,
Do I even make a sound at all?

Too young to understand,
I never said anything.

But as I grew,
I felt... bad.
*****,
Unworthy,
Unlovable.

I felt that there must not be a single person on earth
Who could ever take me as I am,
Broken.

When I began to understand, I still said nothing.
And when it happened again,
This time by someone closer,
I knew what it was.

I felt betrayed.
I felt sick.
Like I had just done the worst thing any human being could have possibly done.
Like I was a failure,
I felt terrible.

Months passed, and eventually I got better, but not without my family
Taking note of that short period when I wasn't okay.
They never knew.
They still don't know.

That when I was seven,
I was ruined.
That, as I turn sixteen,
I fear the life ahead of me because of what they did.
That, when I see him, one of them,
And I hear him coughing and out of breath,
Alzheimer's taking him, slowly, not fast enough,
I wish for him to die.

That I fear every male I come into contact with.

That I lived with my tormentor.

That they took my innocence,

That it wasn't just one,
It was two,
And I remember every detail even though I may lie about it.

I might say "I don't know."
"I don't remember."
But every last second, colour, texture, feeling, breath, detail,
Is forever etched into my mind.

chalk outline of something shattered
left to be displayed to an ever-growing population
mangled and ****** from your passing
and wiped clean by strange hands
that do not possess your docility
but you walk away, slowly into oblivion
unashamed of your takings
for what you stole was never desired
a harrowing **** in the full flourish of your garden
plucked from its roots and put to shame
but as it slowly wilted beneath the severity of the sun
a traveler came upon it and took shame in its torment
and planted it in an open field
free to bloom without an enclosure

I spent the morning in a dream
where the sound of the bellbird
whipped through the sunlit air

where I was stood in the kitchen
pouring a river into two cups -
one leaf juice; one cocoa syrup

here our thyme garden had not wilted
and this home filled with two heartbeats
when it long-lived with just one

here I spent the morning in a dream
where the wind breezed through my hair
where you loved me still

here;
I spent the morning in a dream...

Mourning dove chorus
Light soaks through petals
Revealing mazing veins

Softened riverbed
Replenished and fermented
Or so was whispered then

Bluesy morning drizzle
Opens mouths for dewdrops
The basin overflows

Mirror bears second moon
First tide does not abide
Both sink in metallic sand

Bellow thunder! Shudder ground!
Percussion ends discussion.

Lightning gaze penetrates and what was green is browned.

Sails sink for ascending sun.
Flesh breathes, "Shelter, please,"
But the earth bleeds barren dust.

Seeds surge through soil now and then.
Ebb and flow of rocks and roots.
Fruit snaps from wilted stem.

We walked through pale yellow daisies,
a red ribbon wrapped around your neck,
as black birds cawed in the distance
and cicadas sang in the treeline.

With storm clouds in your eyes,
the wind picked up dust,
surrounded us, and the daisies wilted
because it was October;

the frost had come.

Tissues tear under pressure.

As careless onlookers try to breathe in

the air of something fresher.



Self-satisfied glares under

the gaze of a doily umbrella.

They mutter "Oh that poor Cinderella!"




Rotting flowers falling from an empty hand.

Not caring on which grave

they land.



A flowing dress stiffened from a hard heart.

Lying beneath the dirt

is this dying art.



Powered blue sorrow drifting from caked eyes.

Lying on the frosted grass

this love's demise.



Translucent wings ******* blue veins from the back.

A halo is what

this dead girl lacks.



Wilted dandelions wrapped round the neck with love.

Choking and cloaking a man's

abusive glove.


A lovers' kiss won't wake

this sleeping beauty.

But a suitors love did break


both soul and body.

The air matches the forest deep.
Its Auburn glow weaves congestion into thick dimensions.
The grass, and leaves, and trees coexist in this moment of surreality.
A sepia trim around a coordinated portrait -
The eye cannot adjust to a moment irreplaceable.
A melting slathered teardrop falls slowly.
The tree's push this far into the sky -
Not pushing, but holding, rather.
As a weeping mother catches her child and slowly descends them.
She cannot hold forever,
and the red of scars, disaster, and reflection advents.

She let’s the child wander;
Developing.
Enveloping.
And black does become the night.
Delicate, and sluggish, this darkness falls.
Her arms can bear no more,
as the sunset-soul consumes an arcane definite.
Droning below the lake,
of which no hills sit near.
Charcoal weighing down the once prepossessing light -
of nature’s *****.

A soft whisper,
And death.

Dreams…
And guilt.

"Free us of his torment!”
Cried the leaves: post-wilted.

"He’ll devour us by his own light!”
Shrieked the trees: un-guilted.

"Why entwine such sedulous melancholia?”
Squealed the breeze: pre-juilted.

Oh! Do despair in blessedness!

Oh! Does the flora mourn for her exaltation!

But…

Oh,

Does his darkness revile the ***** soul -

In impassioned ecstasy.

I hide away in the belief of you
Stored away in the ancient times
Where love is a safe haven
And I am oblivious to the reality of the wilderness surrounding us

Tender thoughts of your sweet emotion
Fill my mind with renewed hope
Where wilted flowers once lingered
Now dance in the open fields with joy
I embrace the memory with crystal vision

Soon the shadows that surround
Will fade into the the dawn of a new day
The wind blows over with everlasting spirit
Where time belongs to the essence
And life renews with blossoming peace

Patience becomes a successor
Leaving all expectations at the front gate
For when time has surpassed its motion
The closing bell will ring
And there will be no questions of which path will lead

In the midst of a cold November night
tears falling from the dark in silence
not one sound piercing, or one single light.
blackness giving us nothing but utter pretense.

the misted air cloaked with contrite tapping the exposed souls of the night
rides along the cracked frost heave into the abyss of the wilted sense
guided by merely an undulated tone of right.
running from itself within its own defense.

'Twas the dawn of a bitter November light
and frozen tears irrigated days fence
no thing knew of the blackness in the night.
or the surroundings that shriveled its sense.

****** don't want respect no more
they just want clout
stealing **** they didn't used to be about
but i guess it's "**** or be killed"
and yeah, it's crooked
but the world doesn't let you be skilled in something that's already in you
i can't sit here and write for free
because i'm supposed to be looking for money
scratch my head and worry over answers i'll never find
i know what i want though
so i shade my eyes so they don't know i'm not blind
i can't go with the rest- it's a struggle
going against the flow
is bruising me; i'm wounded
the others like me are slowing turning wilted
i'm left standing in the sun
and even though i'm shining, they don't see it
they're eyeless and i'm the only one

all my life
i recall
feeling, not hearing
feeling this voice say
i wasn't meant to be here
feeling this voice say
you won't make it past 18
feeling this voice say
you're not worth much

september
seasons change, leaves fall
i knew i wasn't worth anything
tossed away like a filthy rag
ravaged like a slaughtered pig
i knew.
only to hear in familiar voices
the same
only to see in familiar faces
the disgust of my presence

how i ached to
strip the skin
that held each ***** in its place
how i lusted after
the obliteration of my being
how i desired
for someone to take this life
that wasn't worth living

may
flowers bloom and i wilted
i cried in the wake of my 18th birthday
for many years
i prayed that life
would cut my breath short in my sleep
i was not meant to be here
i wanted to die
i wished and prayed someone
would ****** me
**** me
stop this heart from beating
because my body and soul
ached with every heartbeat
how could a heart continue beating
after being shattered?
how could a heart pound underneath my chest
after such circumstances?

life isn't kind
life isn't fair
he is gone
and i am here
your smile lit up even the darkest of places
why am i here?
this isn't my life to live
i always knew.

Like black fabric
Adorned in lint and fuzz
Your impurity is shown in the light
Like a nocturnal mammal
You feed in the night
consistently your prey
I provide you with your supper
A platter silver plated
Degraded as your ******..
Maybe thats why iv recently found joy in the pain
a tolerance for dégradation
The void is the same..
opportunities to pick myself a slightly wilted flower
To love that thing forever as if it was at full power
Looking past the imperfection that is all but pretty
Unless you do enjoy the thorns that mad your hands all gritty..

We always settle
Perfection isn't real
you love what you are given
Accept the best of deals
Not wondering what if there was something a lot greater
For that would tear apart whats in your hands
now or later..

every rose has its thorn
and i was just the one in your side.

the amount of genuine joy i may have given,
is overshadowed by the pain i caused.

there was always a maybe and im sorry i didnt act on it
when it felt the strongest
but i promise:

no matter how wilted you become,
you are still important as you were when you were flourishing.

i've said this over and over
but im sorry.

i really am sorry.

the intent completing my purpose.
A bud on a stem capitulated to a
bee on a wing , challenges flew from me.
Experienced in fertilizing analogy, I  intended, but
obviously wilted under the pressure and blamed it
on the sun or lack of rain or pigs eating my roots away.
When I neutered myself, verbally,
darkness understood and drew me in:
oils were painted imaged in unrealistic views expressionist caricatures.
Experimental images all failed to resurrect
the benefits I had splurged.
I only meant to live.

I placed Roses on the gates to Agartha,
And receded to my knees awaiting purgation.
The Earths crux; the home of the holiest harbour,
Defying my sins in hopes I become host to holy invasion.  

Now I wasn't no Martyr and I wasn't no Libertine,
I even come bearing my soul drenched kerosene.
I wailed out "I beg forgiveness for all my sins - I beg forgiveness for everything",
As the thorns from the Roses pierced my skin.

I stained the golden gates with my blood,
as I cursed the Roses to eternal fire.
Each petal wilted down and turned black with my flood, encased in barbed wire.
No mercy for a mere boy soaked in frustration and pain,
Who feared the gates to Agartha to seal;  and never to be opened again.

Wilted
Heartbroken
Yearning to be loved

All I see is couples
Must be nice...

It's killing me

Understand I'm not jealous
Not even close
Love is just something I desire
Only I can't seem to obtain it
Viable alternatives aren't existent
All I'm asking for is love
But I'm growing impatient
Love will come to you I've been told
Except that's not true.... is it.

Alone, lonely, dispersed, sola, isolated, estranged, departed, emptied, hollowed, alienated...echoes inside a house that was never a home.

There were two rooms, no, three. One was lived in, one uninhabited and the last one was empty. The third one filled with clutter and failures, hopes that never took flight and goals that wilted. This one was cold. Life can't flourish during winter, this room never bloomed. A room attached to the house but navigating on its own.

Boxed inside a body, chained with crippling thoughts. Walking among many and forever pacing alone. Everything moves so fast. Face down, avoid their eyes, move faster, lower your tone, talk less, less! Don't speak at all. Don't smile, never laugh. Don't make eye contact, that's an invitation. The room will be too crowded if there are stares. Winter hates company, it thrives on solitude.

Watch it again. Create their world, recreate their dialogues, dive into their sphere. Turn the volume louder, read the subtitles. Float away from the room and become their space. Erase. Erase. Erase. Leave no trace of the self. Imagine another life, run someone else's dreams. They speak in riddles, walk away. Create a fort. Be locked away. Now there's a sound, a loud silence. Can it be heard?

It's the scream of isolation announcing its stay.

My heart is skyward.
I feel light at the sound of low flying planes, recalling my home now so sweetly.

I am a wilted Trilium,
for months fed by a foreign smoggy sun, with roots longingly outstretched for rich appalachian loam,
but grasping instead at the plumes of dust left behind overcrowded buses.

Still, I've grown.

There's a deficiency that's hurting my mind
A serenity I'm seeking but just can't find
but I'm still searching for it though it's an onerous task
I'm looking for palms that can massage emotions
which is not too much from nature to ask
or an unrealistic expectation and a fantastic notion
I'm looking for a caring pulse to motivate my heart
to beat again since it halted from ingestion of excessive pain
I'm looking for an eye that will obviously see my scars
but find them beautiful for they represent the many times
I've stood up when I tripped and badly fell
and the wounds I've tended to till they healed
I'm looking for someone who will appreciate
how far smiles walk to reach my gloomy face
and the fight they put up to create ripples
which consequently bring the changes in the place
I'm looking for someone who has dreams but knows actuality
one who will hope for the shores but surf with me across
the ocean of life,someone who will find content in my reality
I'm looking for fingers that will forever lock with mine
a long life commitment, don't come along if with you forever isn't fine
I'm eager for one who can see right through me to witness
and appreciate the wilted garden that lies within
a vast garden which can flourish again if adequately watered
by honest affection and trustworthy care
I'm looking for a just fine person,not a perfect angel
I've had less from this life that I can't ask for that much
I'm asking for someone who'll give me second chances
because I'm bound to make mistakes, being a novice,
a debutant in a field where I have played but a game
I can take the blame all the same, but I need  
someone who won't quickly opt for the evict notice
cause I'm looking to settle,
so I want a lifetime lease in a heart for rent
I'm the incomplete one that needs the one to complete me
looking for feet that dream of cars but can walk
a Mouth that has room for silence albeit the talk
I'm looking for strength, a "for better for worse"
a sweeter story than single, a blessing not a curse
a love that will be ornamented by sizzling friendship
which will endure past stinging thorns and roughing waves
through long dark tunnels and dump flying fox pellet filled stinking caves
well aware that life is a drama,a play written by karma
yet hoping for someone with whom to write the sequel of my amour
and make a beautiful set of books of tales of loss, endurance and victory
a simple story of holding on through thick and thin,
not necessarily a breathtaking romantic piece of history
for I prefer to live in the heart of the one I deserve
in a mortality to a melancholy immortality in the mind of eternity
I would rather be loved in my life than be remembered when I'm a gonna
I want to fall apart and make up,to taste the tears and laughter
'cause no road is all smooth and no rough but the road to hell
and no story is calm all through, not even a fairytale
so if you're out there,aware life is a variegation
with varying patches of perfect imperfection,
that the Sun is cool at dusk and dawn but there are times it incinerates
pestilentially like larva emitted by an erupting volcano
then I'm looking for you,you should know

A girl was selling flowers,
white orchids she had clipped.
I found them rather lovely
and placed one on your crypt.

Like a bygone love, it wilted.
Its petals dried and fell.
You're long gone, I know,
but I hope you're doing well.

i dressed up in my midnight-black everything
and showed up at your door with a handful
of wilted daisies.
i tried taking your arm but you chose to just walk by my side,
silent and cold and as frightening as a bolt
of lightning in the summer heat.
and so we walked along the cracked sidewalk,
both silent,
both afraid,
until we chanced upon a narrow creek running
frigid above sheets of blue-grey rock.
you jumped in and i followed suit,
but when i surfaced you were nowhere to be found.
i've been drifting ever since