Stolen Vision

nights like these

they keep me alive 

and they make me crawl 

away from the light 

away from the light 
right int the dark of the moon 

and nights like these 

they assure me

they carve unit my flesh 

with the moon’s glow 

delicate shadows of the clouds

and once maybe twice 

I check my dead phone 

for hints of you 
but it doesn’t-

it doesn’t show

like the dark side of the moon 
i feel very intrigued
the clouds swirl around 

like cotton candy vein made

and I feel like my vision’s fading

maybe the moon-
yes it is the moon 

it is taking away my vision 

i would say i’m moonstruck

and glad too 
but until a while ago 

i thought my vision 

existed because you did

it was because you were 

it no longe is, it is fading 
maybe that’s my queue 

of your inexistence 
you disappeared as silently as

the swirling clouds 

only to leave behind 

the moon with my stolen vision 

don’t walk away from me

not now, not ever.

 i’m not mentally stable 

for the impact of this. 
don’t stop gushing me,

not now, not ever. 

i’m physically weak

and require your touch. 

i- i can’t heal the wounds 

you’ve carved with such delicacy

onto my brain and heart. 

i’m mentally unstable and a wreckage 

i’m physically weak and a touch

will open up my wounds 
my heart beats like a device on viberate 

it’s constant,

and it’s making me dizzy. 

i believe i am delusional 

my hand sweats like a dam broken. 
my legs and arms have creases like 

an unused sweater,

i have goosebumps. 
and i am frightened to death,

but i swear to god, i swear,

i don’t like this. 

you can easily break my heart 

with a single pinch of your fingers.  

but please, let me live;

don’t kill me, 

i- I’ll make you happy  

don’t kill me,

stay. 
when you see me sitting 

while I try to chuck air in my lungs,

when you see me shaking 

and unable to stop myself,

when you see tears gushing out 

and my hair all over my face,

when you see a frightful monster

frightened of herself,

don’t walk away.

stay, stay, stay;

hush me down. 

don’t kill the monster in me,

you’ll kill me too. 

stay, stay, stay.  

Cotton Candy Clouds

When I was a kid, I’d always wondered how clouds would taste

And I’d imagined that maybe

They’d feel really cold in my mouth 

And that they’d be really sugary. 

And I told you that I wanted to be a dragon fly 

And I told you I’d like it if I could spit spark from my mouth 

All the while,

You kept staring at me,

And you had a smile that reached your eyes

Your eyes were warm. 

They were soft. 

I remember when we were all together 

And you and I were close 

Almost too close for my young heart 

It couldn’t feel more bittersweet 

I could see the people around us 

Some were dancing to the music that you created 

Others sat around. 

Looking at their feet

Oh god, they looked missed. 

Like cherry blossoms fallen come Autumn. 

And they looked beautiful,

Even in their misery, it made me question human existence. 

Why does it feel like we’re hollow within

When someone leaves. 
I had my lips pressed to your shoulder,

And our hands were intertwined. 

You held my hand so tight 

I felt like I’d fall into a pit if you’d let go. 

And I’m not in misery. 

Some days,

The ghosts of the past

They sing sweet nothings 

In my hair, and they make me-

They almost make me believe 

That maybe what I’d been before was better 

But, every touch of your skin on mine

Makes me right 

It tells me that this is where I want to be. 

And this is where I am. 

The cherry blossoms will fall as every autumn comes and goes
The bones rust slowly, 

A fragile touch will turn to dust. 

Human existence is weak 

Oh so vulnerable

Like petals we fall into the river under our feet 

And gently, the dust is taken in 
Your fingers burn my skin

Every touch leaves a mark 

You graze my veins 

Gentle taps on the creases of my palm

Making sure the blood flows evenly

I hear your heart beating 

It’s shallow and soft 

As the petals dance until they rest on the pavement.
This poem is of nothing, nothing, nothing. 

You could pierce me like the shards of glass that once did;

My veins were pierced like grass blades shortened. 

Wooden Arms

Like a baby I’ll hold you in my arms,

And I’ll face you to the world,

And when you look up,

Peaking out, as the morning ray hits your face,

And your tiny hair gleam,

I’ll rub your head with such tenderness,

I know not to exist within  me.

“Can you see- See that outside?”

I’ll ask you in a hushed voice,

Not to frighten you with my shrill voice.

And I’ll tell you,

“That’s the world you’ll live in.”

And it’s dark,

It’s drunken, but when you look at it,

You’ll see that it’s divine.

That’s the world you’ll live in.

It’ll tear you down and

When you think all your strands have been

Ripped from the roots,

You’ll see how it picks out the roots as well.

It’ll be an absolute gleam in the eye,

You’ll dance around for

It’ll let you grow your strands again

And it’ll rejoice.

I am but a cradle for you.

I shall support and hold you tight,

Lest you fall down.

And when you grow old,

And hop out of my wooden arms,

I shall step back and close the door gently.

Hoping to one day,

Watch you become your own cradle.

Hoping to one day,

Watch you become me.

I am coated with an armor of gold,

I am given the wings of Icarus,

And I sore, I sore high and above,

Above towards the sun.

I cannot burn.

My wings are ageless,

And my gold shall never be shattered.

I am a broken harp,

My melody has turned bitter.

I am a wingless swan.

I do not go places, I am bound by the lords.

I am a chamber of shattered glass,

And you look at my with such pity,

It stings my eyes,

It stings my eyes.

Hard to Love

I don’t spill words with my tongue,

As easily as I spill blood from my body.

I don’t love as readily as I loathe,

And I loathe with intensity;

Loving isn’t as painless as it may seem.

When they portray love

On white walls with projections?

It’s an illusion.

Remember that when somebody tells you,

You could love them,

You could love the illusion

They have created just for you.

You could never love or ever

Even come close to liking

The raw existence of humans.

Since the beginning we have been cruel,

We have been selfish,

We have been filthy.

I am hard to love, in fact,

I am not loved at all,

quite rarely.

I couldn’t create an illusion for your pathetic self.

These words I write are filthy,

My blood is prettier.

All I do is loathe the existence of others.

I am hard to love, in fact,

I am not loved at all,

Quite rarely.

Muse of Tragedy

Do you hear that?

Do you hear that most sorrowful,

Most entrapping melody?

It’s the cries of Melpomene.

She sounds serene,

as though her doom isn’t strangled on her head.

She sings muses clothed with gloom,

And it sounds, to the faintest of hearts,

Like exquisite glass upon which the water blades crash.

She could always arouse

A maddening flame within me.

And it sickens me,

It sickens me to wait for words.

These words that may be apt sometimes, and others, unsatisfyingly ignorant.

Melpomene, oh Melpomene,

You are quite a tragedy.

And I believe I-

I just might be your daughter.

For this low hum under my skin,

And this sweet torment,

Could only be genetic, right?

You are a melancholic beauty,

And I was born

From the fire within you.

I am he madness

You gave birth to.

Unlike the delicacy within,

I have claws for fingers

And an undying fire in my lungs;

And oh Melpomene, oh Melpomene,

You ignite my veins with a fury

Unbeknownst to mankind.

I say again, do you hear that?

Do you hear that most sorrowful, most entrapping melody?

It is she, who raised my fragile being;

She sings those sorrowful muses.

Anything.

I think it’s frozen
Its eyes on me
(Eyes on me)

It feels cold
Like the cold after a gunshot.

When the air just freezes
In mid-air,
And there is a silence that pierces,
That screams.

The wind lies low tonight,
Very much like the pit of my senses.

I’m curling my toes,
Just to feel something.

Anything
(Anything at all)

The clouds are dead to me, mostly.

And the moon is my mother,
It has raised me raw.

It outshines the stars beside it,
It’s raised the inner lining
Of my soul,
And each night a
Fire burns deeper

Within me
(Within me)

And each night,
I ignite.

Understand Yourself.

Babydoll, It doesn’t matter if others don’t love you like I do, or if they don’t feel your goosebumps when good music plays in the background. It doesn’t matter if they hate you and call you a whore for staring at a boy who’s “way out of your league” for fifteen minutes straight because you find him mysterious with his covered eyes and spiked up tattoos.

What matters, what only matters, is that they are they and you are you; that’s how it’ll always be. They won’t ever understand you, even that boy who says he understands how you feel while he rubs your thigh.

All everybody needs is self-acceptance . All everybody needs is to understand themselves. Why do you bother with trying to make others understand the ravishing mess that you are?

They won’t understand you. And if you look at it clearly, that’s even better. The point of beauty is that it’s always hard to grasp.

The ONLY thing that is important is that YOU understand yourself because you’re the only one who feels the magnitude of everything in your life.

It doesn’t matter if the shopkeeper gives you a look that clearly states, ‘She looks like a slut, maybe after she’s done with that, I can get in her pants.’ after he glances at the ten bottles of whisky you just slammed on the counter with a slight shift of legs.

All that matters, and all that will EVER matter, is that you accept the truly beautiful mess that you are.

When You Go Out.

When you go out, remember to keep the door open, you’ll need it when your shaking hands can’t turn the key in the keyhole.

Remember to put on heavy eyeliner and make your eyes strangers to his ever recognizing gaze. He isn’t good for you, he’ll fuck you up and leave you on the footpath.

When you go out, do not take anything people can recognize you with, you don’t want to regret anything. Be invisible.

When you’re at a party and the guy with multiple piercing catches your eyes, don’t hesitate for a second, go to him, and when his eyes meet yours and you get goosebumps on your arms? You know you’re in for a ride.

He’s the type that can’t remain sober long. And that’s great, really. The world he’ll show you will spark up when he shows it to you with his drunk  demeanor.

When he lights up a cigarette? It’ll feel like he’s lighting you up instead, and your breathe will catch in your throat. This is something new to you.

His eyes will seem like a Rubik’s Cube, and you do enjoy solving a puzzle, don’t you?

When he grabs your hand in his and tells you to run, run.

Run like the wind will catch up to you, it’ll seem like nothing later, but in that moment,

the adrenaline rush will be everything. He will make your blood rush in your veins and when he kisses you, it won’t be rough like his hair at the bottom of his neck.

It’ll be everything you weren’t expecting and everything you had hoped for.

You know this night was not one to be remembered, so drink with him, tell him you’ll find him one day, tell him he’ll find you one day.

And when the little birds chirp, you’ll know that your little adventure has settled in the bit of your stomach.

You’ve solved the Rubik’s Cube. You didn’t need the keys. The door was open, and you found the key to his mind.

Remember to keep your hands still when you push the key in.