walk me down the alley, will you?
it’s so dark, and terribly true:
the walls close in;
the air cuts thin;
on a skin that’s weary of
a diabolical flu.

i’ll walk behind ya, all the way -
for i have nothing good to say -
of the ones who lurk
in dreary corners -  
where hope turns bleak;
i dare not speak -

for they can sense
my breathless words;
my every move;
even thoughts, unheard;
you must take caution,
stay low, stay far:
they might mistake us
for who we are  

almost there,
just a few more yards…
you may drop me off yonder -
that moonlit graveyard:
will be there, for a while -
don’t wait too long;
the night isn’t over -
things could go wrong.

Still yourself and this time
look the poem in the eyes.
Don't let it stare you down.
Face its challenge head on.

Show respect, yes, but show no fear.
Still yourself, lower yourself
and offer yourself as a friend.
Give it time to close the distance,

watch how it softens under your focus.
Slow your breath, synchronise
and only then - gently, patiently
reach out and let it engage.

Let it come to you.
Still yourself in its majesty,
it may surprise you.

how eerie it is to watch the unfathomable happen
right before our eyes, burning through
our privilege, destroying our make believe borders of protection.
neatly trimmed bushes, newly painted streets
yet there it is, the pandemonium of
the violence, the fear
scrolling through feeds to see lives taken
by the tip of a fuel raged knife
or by the impact of a charged bullet.
what was once seen on our tv,
now happening two blocks down
how unraveling to see that
our backyards are burning.

Sometimes even in the middle of the night, sweet thoughts of you saunter throughout my mind. Sometimes I let it wander, and I wonder things which I'm sorely reticent I should be thinking..

I dream of you sometimes, whenever I end up dreaming at all. I wonder still what these ideas mean or what importance they hold; what purpose they possibly condone and implore, like a veil of undeniable curiosity drawing lines in sand that beckon and ache to be crossed either way.

Sometimes I wonder what depths these thoughts and feelings may behold beyond that pale fog of what is and "what if," and sometimes I let my mind escape the frail boundaries of reality and imagination just to feel that solemn place even for a brief moment. It pierces me deeply and caresses my very soul to feel your presence even without you beside me.

Thoughts of you whisper dearly to me in echoes of visions of things that have never happened. But I still wonder, even in doubt; I still imagine, even when I deign to ignore what pleasantries it instills to think of you in every fathomable way; and often when I do, my blood may never stand still..

In silent verbal graves, my heart wanders into things my mind has shown it, and it anguishes to understand what could lie beyond the gateway of this world to the one beseeched from within my head.

How simple it could all be for nought, not so far from being as fragile and fleeting as a mere idea, that the moments where I lie within the shadows of deceit to ultimately awake away from these thoughts and visions would be the only thing keeping those dreams to hold me in feigned tranquility: a place I'd rather never awake from to begin with.

I think of you, often, dearly.. I think of you, and I always wonder a million things: every part of your mind and soul. I think of you.

But I think to myself, most of all, if I'm eternally alone in these thoughts; and the night becomes lucid, and I sleep in trifling silence devoid of any dreams at all.

Still, I think, of you.

I fear to be seen as the person next to me
to act and present myself how society wants me to be seen
never being different in my own way
but I also fear to be the odd one out
to be treated for the way I express myself
becoming singled out from the population as a whole
it's quite interesting when you think about it
wanting to be different
but to also want to blend in with the crowd
so, every day I change myself
switching my persona in a quick flash
just so I can't let this odd fear of mine
to swallow me alive just so I can spit it out
leaving an uncanny taste sizzling in my mouth

As I feel asleep
After a stressful
Coffee feel day
I find that I see mushroom clouds in the distance
An omen of
What is  going on
This impending war
This impending hatred towards our fellow man
This empending genocide
This I will not stand for
I have has these prophecies
Of this
Since age 14
Now it 13 years later
Or so i still
Receive
Mushroom clouds in the distance
Like evil psychedelic shrooms that
Are from hell!
What we need is more security
More love for each other