Poetry
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Entering back into truce,while firmly able toexplicitly deduceyour coming commandto see me surrendering,while I’ll be desertingthe final remainingtears for tear stains.I’ve been meltingto be back here,to be there with you.But you are receivingthis desperationwith more to breakinto two partsfrom one heart.You’ve saved nothingexcept for your anticipationto collect fragmentsof one who is subscribing,after years of bellowingthe…
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What is there to yearn after,singing songs to unite weatherinto a grave incursion?Weeping for nothing leftover,when no one is theredying upon the rocks.We are just holding out hopethat our tears will continueto fill up gaps,to repeat those storiesoverfilled with pages.What is there to reminisce on,fueling this channelingof sudden, ongoingsadness and bitterness?What is there left to…
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Upon the folds, creases,the unkempt sights of onewho hasn’t had enoughto keep drinking.For what he’s thinking,he’ll be paralyzed by,for a good part of eternity.But you stand there,humming your words,singing througha recollected heart.Your veins aren’t hollow,your heartbeat is regular.You aren’t as shallow,even when standingin those puddles,keeping your reflectionnever shattered.I’ve been fillingthese cups, to their brimwith regret,…
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Split apart. Having arewritten life, while I’mremembering when wewere both once like infants,crying while talkingwhat no one elsewould bother hearing.Now you are faint.You are just a soundlessthing to be withdrawnfrom, from a spacewe once shared.For you cannot cry.You cannot even seewhat I’ve let looseupon the wind.You have refrainedfrom ever beingthe other draft,the parts, the pages…
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It’s been a storm,identical to all things dark,and hazy. It is received withone’s attitude of stubbornnessto see it unlawfully remain.Inside one’s heart,there’s a bomb, its fuseis already lit. But thisone, confined persontreats it as firelight,as warmth for their hands,those that are sicklyand pale.A welcomed installationof a furnace, fueled bythe oil of one’s face,the perspirationthat is…
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It’s been time to decidewhen this heart will unwind,where tears will flowto bring close what can’treturn to aching arms.Will this graveyard gardenbe as colorful as your face,once smiling, once hopingfor the end to never be?I’m no longer closing outeverything I’ve shut in,as it can no longer weighupon me, from within.I can no longer affordto be…
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I have heard what youhave cried out, under sucha constant stream,with downpour fillingyour cupped hands.You can’t float, when therewas never anything aboveto resurface to,for you’ve always wanted tobe reminded of what’s downin the direction to drown.Love’s face can get youto retrace your form,building up your fleshto erase what’s dead.Life’s grace can let youwish for more…
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She’s been redrawninto her familiar shape,wings no longerdisheveled and weathered,while two black eyesare ignited with sunlight.She’s perched uponsomeone’s shoulder,someone who we knownever needed to prayfor her to enterthis inevitable way.She’s singing from onegleaming beak, notes froma pair of unclogged lungs,once suppressed,now here revealingall meaning undressed.She’ll never ail,because she’ll only sailon wings of ivory,speckled in gold.She’ll…
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Into the darkareas of our eyes,isolating our mindsto see what wecouldn’t take.From an engine,a train soarspast stations,refusing its place,leaving all to theirbranded disgrace.We all wish to havesomething we cannothold onto, while wesoar past lessonsto be learned.We all hope to receivethe echoes that areconfirming our words,our presence,our connection toour breaths.But we exchange hopefor denial’s wish,believing that…
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Falling over, over intoyour enforced playground,while I’m corrected onwhat I’ve done wrong.It is done, as you bringyour scars, all of theminto open light.All is gone, as you’re hereto leave me in ruins,waiting for me to smile.You are doing it, again,covering yourself in nectar,waiting for the bees,hoping for the wolvesto give you praise.I cannot containall I’ve…
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These words I’ve cometo regret that I’ve yetto utter them fromswollen lips.This heartache, this yieldto light that retreatswhen I’m not comingclose to its warmth.I’ve promised the darknessthat I will nurture it,given this nature to besurrounded by screams.I am under an ailment,choking back sounds.I am stirring in a glimpseof too many unidentical,separated patterns.I am under a…
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You were always onewho considered themselvesthe sacred one, the maddened,deprived one who coulddrive in a final nail,letting me fall, before it wasdeath that made the call.You emptied your veinsfor what you are ableto find in me, to provideyour unquenched lipsa taste for a journeyto your dedicated high.What isn’t near enoughfor you to see, when the…
Modern Romanticism 