i feel good here, like i would like to usurp
his life and nest in it instead,
steal his habits, crafty hands,
bask in his kindness
and feel what warmth lies
inside of his body.
what do you dream about ?
i wonder how easier it truly
would feel, as you.
the rewards with no work,
how does it truly feel ?
i know your comfort had a cost, greater
than i could ever pay,
and the rest is simply your mind,
an artist
in the flesh and bone,
and i forget myself.
i envy you,
it fuels me,
thankful.

A peculiar little bird, quite fond of the warmth of
Summer flights,
Has been found perched on my branches
For quite a while
Singing.

A friend to most, quite dear to me,
This little bird
Attached his nest quite messily,
Then went around with evening's glee,
Flying.

A crooked fellow, he loved to sow
Sweet little seeds,
Happy to grow
In the bark, in the soil,
Everything always nurtured in joy,
Glowing.

Alas,
This winter, it seems the cold took you away,
How sad to see a tree with no song,
Left alone in decay.

At last,
When spring comes back around,
In the sway of leaves going round and round,
Like a choir singing along,
Perhaps will be heard another song.

when i dissociate from my thoughts, when i let the anger win

i imagine banging my head on concrete, scrapping the skin off, ripping everything

destroying my eyes on walls, clawing, stabbing my knees again and again and again

and i don’t scream no, i take it

i take it all

it feels good to destroy, at least i feel like

my body is at peace with my mind, i feel complete

i feel complete.

my face bursting open, awfully gorish,
scrapping my head on the asphalt right
in front of my house, door still opened.
the rocks break my teeth and i still
don't stop moving, i don't.
the ground must feel my pain, back to the earth
right at its center my blood should return, safe.
i tear it apart, what's left of me, this awful body
ripped to shreds, destroyed so cruelly, i rip it,
again and again
feel my flesh, see,
see my pain.
watch me.

monster, by the lake
look at me, arms opened wide
i wait
for in your eyes i knew a flame
of wonder, monster
burning away my fears
of you.

sorrowful sorrow,
have you swallowed up
in your endless depths
my good
haunted friend ?
he who was waiting
for me
to come back
by the lake.

here i am, monster
this time i did not run
no,
i embraced each
cursed tree
of this forest.
i walked. no,
i crawled, no
i almost killed my self.
here i am, monster.
i do not fear
your eyes
whatever sadness
anger, pain,
hurt,
they bear.

water, show me my
face,
my arms opened,
show me the eyes,
show me the rotten flesh,
i dare look. i dare.
monster,

here you are.

other people have forced me to bear the price of my own loneliness.
i was its first victim, its first culprit,
my hand, though, was not the one to take aim
and fire the most hurtful shot of all ;
isolation.

i do not look at you with vengeful eyes, because i have learnt to hold kindness preciously.
it is my sadness that is piercing, strong enough
to break my heart,
angry enough to build it back,
worse, if needed, just to go on and  
survive.

in march, i stopped breathing.
one entire year spent stumbling,
and then finally, a friend to us, lost,
never to be heard again, seen again,
in my memories, he keeps on smiling
under the fireworks he lit in all of us.

to the lost ones, to the ones who keep
flailing and flailing through any cities,
any families, any wishes,
i pray for our feet to walk sturdily
to flee our own sorrows, our sad
mistakes, sad, like everyone else's.