I cuddled up with
a metaphor that was
caught in the corner of
my room.
I dressed it in the
silk of kings, and fed
it from the fractured
trees of innocence.
Low-hanging fruit of
despair gets us
every time.

I was lost in the dark of forest.
Once a beautiful place to be.
In the shadows of tall green trees.
I felt happy and peaceful under branches wide and strong.
Protecting me.

I often sang the song of lovers
while peeping at a warm sun.
At night I slept the sleep of dreamers
While moonlight kissed me on my cheeks.

During day I kept on dancing
in arms of invisible tunes.
Of a breeze so soft like silk.
My colors blooming
pastel shades, bright and smiling too.
Caressing your eyes, comforting you.

Now it’s another story.
I’m so sad, can’t even speak.
My beautiful forest, gone.
Fires and sour rains took over.
And I,
just a little wildflower,
once happy but now I weep.



Shell ✨🐚

Love stripped
Passion enslaved

Brain washed
Head shaved

Thirst for truth
Hunger to repay

March forward
Toward dark days

Kneeling at an altar to depression
Genuflecting to the ideals of loss
Dreams left behind that eternal question
Beleaguered joy borne, burden, cross

Enshrining truth within a tomb of memory
Monk of a religion that believes in naught
Master of realities adrift in bombastic theory
Servant to whimsies of mercurial thought

Spirit seeking purpose, eyes beseech heaven
The void swells, in answering angelic voice
Alighting the soul with renewal, redemption
And hopeless fantasy becomes simple choice

Its not a good day
if I havent ripped
a thumbnail on
some jagged metal
or stubbed a toe
Its not a good day
if I havent cut myself
on a kitchen knife
or had my heart broken
Its just the
empty space
between
injuries

Intricate labyrinth of neurons
Within whose web I dally, caught
Tangled synapse-bridged *****
Continuously recalling tallied thought

Laser-etched steel-plate memories
Deny wisdom so dearly sought
Reinforcing episodic-twisted realities
Revealing epiphany where is naught

Neuronal circuits staccato-fire rapidly
Tetanizing notions trauma-wrought
Spike-timing-dependent plasticity
Potentiating emotions distraught

Swearing healing by hippocampal oath
Promising surcease to wet-work hard-fought
Neurogenesis rebuilds hope for both
Amygdalan peace and neural-networked bio-robot

Life is loss, pain
You move on, push past it
You write subroutines to deal
To ease, to distract, to bypass
Again and again until
You are more subroutine
Than you are yourself
And you wonder
At what point did pain
Become more relevant
To life
Than living?

Strung prose
Like puzzle pieces
Broken across the page
No longer
Im too linear now
For all that
Maybe
Before long
I'll write
Instruction manuals
And think
They're poetic

It was your choice
I wasn't your boss
I had no voice
It was your loss
I wished you'd stayed
I should have chased
I never betrayed
I never replaced
I wanted you back
I let you go
If you were to ask
I'd have to say no
I changed my mind
I would say yes
I tried to be kind
I should've guessed
It's not your fault
It's you I blame
In every thought
I play this game

Fingers slide, sensuous,
Tracing sunlit skin,
Caressing warm memories,
Etching my heart within.

Lips share passions,
Of word and kiss,
Tongues bare souls,
Fears, hopes, and bliss.

Dreaming in your embrace,
Arms encircle, legs entwine,
Drifting in your eyes,
Love reflected, in yours, in mine.