Poetry
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Wandering far, coming closeto this narrowed objective.Our winds pushed us,our tears kept us afloatuntil we realizedwhat else was sinking.In an aftermath,crowded in its disgrace,I’ve felt that stingon bleeding arms.You were kissingthese wounds, to close,while you were too closeto understand whatyou could have understood,from far away.I should have brokenour pieces, into more pieces,should have kept our…
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You were my principle,all my excuses, my reasons,but you kept giving memore to doubt after.I loved you, without knowingwhat else there had beenfor me, in this universeof constant eclipses.I cherished our dream,withdrawing myselfto waters made of reflections,as I decided to keep rowing.Moving our ship,escaping into spacewhere our faces,our exhausted eyeswere ours to forgive,but never undo.We…
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This tension has spoken,has written our names,along lines, along the scarsthat run their lengthon our flesh.I let exit from these lipsall I’ve been meaning to say.I wish I could liberatefrom its echoing shella promise that continuesits pressure, on a soulthat never mourns itself,when it continues to sell.When I walk up to you,to be burned in…
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If we are honest to another whom we have come to know, we will speak what’s needed to be said. Needed, not wanted, because lies might have been all they have heard. Lies are always aligned with repetition because they will not ever present quality to a life. A life receives quality through its growth…
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Walking in, waking withinall that drives this rain,this melting wax.You’ve been waitingfor one second, in whichyou could let goof what you’ve beenremoving beneatha waning sun.You’ve been standingunder arriving stars,a void full with its shareof countless signals,gleaming flares.Walking close,bringing downa liquid forminto a mass of pages,to be stained in ink,erased with tears.Sheets conceal us,drown us, but…
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It was the lastto be releasedinto one wild,open domain.It was given,bitten beforeeverything hadbeen rewritten.Loosening chains,greasing palms,weathered fromholding tightone final night.Falling into you,waiting for the arrivalof what matters leastin our survival.I had chosen for usto be named second place,on those circles, where wewere being chased.Love brings in colors,lust saturates them,creates fire, when lovecouldn’t raise us higher.
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You deserved a choice,seeing me, left withouta space to bury thisfatal flaw of flesh,in an aftermath.What do I hold,when it has becomerotten with the cold?It decays, it staysstill bleeding in theseplainest hallways.Upon my leftwhere I’ve been bereftof all that used to shine,I continue to my righton this vain courseto seek remaining light.I scour over emptiness,with…
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You want tohear it, again,in its softest subtlety.I ask it, another time,with breath I release,after inhaling vaporin what fog hides us,rewinds us.I hold out my heartin its everlasting blindness,to continue everythingI have given tearsfor its growth.Are you aware?Will we ever dareto brave this journeyinto solidification?We float, as bodies,warm to the touch,staring at open sunlight,watering our…
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Why were we evera pair of souls, searchingfor something to matchour wandering eyes?Why have we alwayskept secrets that close?We fed what kept usmoving further awayfrom candleflame,into our disdain.Shutting doors,closing curtains,remembering our loveto be anything butfull of light,because we favoredthe fade of those forcesthat deceived us,that kneaded us.We were shaped to besomething cementedin futile pride,divorcing all…
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I keep decidingagainst a wiser notion,siding with an emotionthat guides me forward,as I look backwards.Blind, I am,to what I believe,denying all that diedin becoming brittle,reflecting fragments.I see a manin each of these parts,as he has remainedwandering in a maze,drunk on a haze.I see that sunlighthas always beckonedthese eyes to finda different life,after leaving thisforever behind.I…
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Human acceptance is a desired thing. But when it becomes so desired that we deny how it can be implemented, we might be leaning towards having it in the most unnatural of ways. Forcing acceptance is not possible, because what’s occurring is the instilling of fear for the self if acceptance is not given. That…
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We’ve chosen this. Having chosen us, continuing to walk over our premature grave like the times when we swim in each other’s skin. Love arranged this, did it not? Or was it something else? Was it mere time? Our confession turned into denial of what wasn’t absolution. Our knees once became soft at the submission…
Modern Romanticism 