at the end of the tunnel my heart trembles,
overwhelmed by waves of telephone rings,
unexecuted promises, ecstasy of a newfound soul
but the threat of a fragile thread, i try to
breathe but the air goes nowhere, and then i
look, mama, the henna on my hand is fading away
i sigh at the inevitability of things, all of this reality
does not feel like reality, we are all in the last stretch
of our escape, i see the light at the end of the dark
ness, but why does it feel like i’m simply standing
still waiting to be kept in another cage. darling,
darling, my henna is wearing thin. i want out,
i want freedom, i want love, i want this anxiety
to fade away like the lovely patterns quickly wearing
thin, thin, thin, to match the colour of my skin.

our surf together is done, we ride different waves now,
you said you split your time in pockets
while i slice my potatoes into tiny, little dice,
so maybe we’re not too different after all.

(i’m glad i said what i wanted to say for a while now,
and i want to let you know that i really meant when i said,
i’m really gonna miss you.)

And it is now the end,
never again will our cursors
intertwine and roam across
the screen. It will be left
unchanged, last seen a long,
long time ago.

Our repository will be forever
archived, belonging to someone
else, in the hands of a stranger,
never again will i see your quickdraw
pull requests, never again will our
branches merge and conflict.

i know, the last commit it’ll see
will forever be the last fix i made.

Go ahead and praise your ear-****** demons then,
While I lay to rest under the waters with my sirens
Drowning out all the noise you made in my life.

Monday night my head spins
Reality and fiction sunken in
Sugar rush tires me but keeps me
Awake, I whirl in everlasting anxiety
I am panicking, how much time do we have
Left, something’s not
Right, my brain is shutting
Down, deeper into knots of
Self-doubt as if someone enabled
Occlusion culling, why can’t I see?
What’s in store for me? I can’t?
See what? Is in front of me?

Three
chests heave-
in the dark,
Breathing throughout
Each exhale.
The soundscape
adopts
a sleepers tone;
As
the clock's
      Tick tock,
Counting each second;
Becomes infinite-
The midnight's
metronome
Insues...

We dance in an enclosed white box,

You led me to the center stage, then

Held my hand and guided me in a waltz.

You said something,

but I could not catch it.

Your eyes locked to mine

but I see past it.

All I felt amidst the all-too familiar floor

And our fragile, reluctant punches,

Was the pain on my feet, worsening

As you whirled and I twirled.