I wish you’re a robot,
I would open you up,
cross some wires, blue to red
flip some switches,
push some buttons,
tighten some screws,
until you didn’t act so automated
until you loved me.

It is about you up in the woods
And me by the river.
It is however I imagine it
And dream it to be.
The raspy voiced man
And the mouse-girl.
two artists, one in love—
Solely imagined.
Brazen-grey eyes, wide
Deep hazel ones, one slow;
Long killing perfect smile,
One falling and snagging.
Ashen, both.
Laughing, both.
Still: in love, one.

i. My mother and father always had a fight. They threw words and plates and vases and cups at each other. They shouted and screamed at the top of their lungs. I was there hiding at the corner under the dining table. I covered by ears with my hands but the noise managed to penetrate. It was like a hundred guns being fired all at once, a bazooka or a bomb. It felt like World War. Their World War. Our World War.
ii. After fights I go lock myself into my room. Put my headphones on and listen to ******* songs at full volume. The music pounded and filled my ears overwhelming me. And sometimes I play vinyl records and CDs so loud my mom would knock so hard at my door and tell me to stop. But I didn’t. It was my only friend. It made me happy. It made me run away to some places I didn’t know even existed - my hiding place.
iii. I grew up with the war. It’s my middle name. In my vocabulary N stands for Normal. It is to me. I woke up every day in the same cycle. Very tiring and numbing. Growing old with the same situation. I got used to it.
iv. Then one day, I met Silence. He made life a whole lot easier for me. He made me oblivious of the war, of the world. And sometimes I just stare and I don’t mind at all. I was just numb and calm and unbelievably happy even if it meant not hearing anything anymore.
v. Silence became my best friend.

Young people,
sit restless and anxious,
wandering nervously,
sweats all over,
armpits, foreheads, shoulders
people late for this, for that,
to there, for them, who or her or him,
tapping desks, thumping feet
staring on their cell phones
burning their behind against the chair’s friction
making money with their hands on their chin
Hot tea turned cold
vacant chairs awaiting
empty stares and swell sighs
at the unwavering Exit sign.
Sometimes feeling the grief of waiting
and hearing dripping anticipation.
Never gives up.
Ten years of waiting
in the same little tea house
serving the same drinks to
different people; for ten year
finding — and on a Sunday evening
a boy asks for my name.

Your laughter is my
money and I’m buying the
best days of my life.

Baby, no cancer’s
getting the best of you. We’ll
beat it together.

1** special bond, 2 in love
2 souls entwined, 2 blazing hearts
2 poles,6 months to attract
3 sweet words, 2 lips waiting
slightly opened, patiently waiting
3 powerful arguments, 6 minutes to say
took him long to tell them straight
4 strong arms, 2 bodies embracing
never want to lose grip
3 daughters, 10 years, a decade —
proves it right; it takes only two to fill
one orbital — both opposite,
one home.