12/27/2013

I cried in the shower.
When nobody was around to see,
except me - looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
But it was enough to make me cry harder, cry louder,

cry softer, cry unseen and cry unheard.
Cry out of sight and cry out of mind and cry without saying a single word.
Cry for the fallen who can't get up.
Cry for the tortured whose lives have been messed up.
Cry for a family I've never heard of.
Cry for the homeless and poor who just needed a little bit more love.
Cry for my friend who recently contracted ***.
Cry for him, because I wish instead it had been me.

I sat up in bed after midnight, writing a diary entry it read,
"No happy greeting tonight."

I laid down in the empty bathtub with the shower running,
spraying hot water, only on to my side.
The rest of me, freezing cold, exposed.
I played a song in the background, called Wounded.

There were three separate streams running down my face:
water, shampoo, and are those Tears coming out of the shower faucet?

It seemed like a perfect scene for a tragic movie.
It definitely felt 'unreal' enough to be in one.
I was spitting a lot.
maybe because the bitterness of words trapped in my mouth contaminated my palate.

He might have ***, Highly Likely.
and I always viewed him as invulnerable.
We spoke on the phone and he pretended to be strong but I can sense feelings.
I guessed it after all.
Only we might know so far.
Tomorrow he finds out.
Don't worry about me.
No ****** involvement - I'm not lucky enough to get a guy like that.

I feel a fraction of his fear and pain though.
I've been an idiot and a bad friend.

So no happy greeting tonight diary.
Please excuse my sorrow and don't take pity.
No worries, I think those were just Tears coming out of the shower faucet.
Like the single Tear I wake up with each morning ever since I heard he got it.

Less is Nice, but Never Not
October 26, 2013

I have this problem.

of turning whispers into shouts.
of my silent cries becoming visible pouts.
of a violent tendency to dislike.
of knowing how I feel like.
of believing that the worst thing I can be,
is just me.

I open every door so the world can come in.
Effortless distraction.
To keep introspection away from myself,
I pull people off the shelf.
I'll take anyone who won't keep quiet.
Hell, if needed, I'd start a riot.
I am a dreadful juggernaut, filled with fright.
Trying my hardest to stay up all night.
Fighting to keep people in my fortress,
creating a collection of voices,
building a constant chorus.
Hiding from the solitude of an empty room in the house,
I advertise to anyone, who I am, and my whereabouts.

But after every conversation in-person or on the phone,
I go home and it sinks in.
I begin to realize,
I am always alone.

Being alone feels like being without.
Being alone feels like being lonely.
Being alone feels like being lost.
Being alone feels like being lonely.
Being alone feels like being misunderstood.
Being alone feels like being lonely.
Being alone feels so lonely.
But being alone feels so much better with someone else.

I feel less alone when I'm not by myself.
I feel less alone when I step out of the stealth.
I feel less alone when I'm surrounded.
I feel less alone when people keep me grounded.
I feel less alone when I laugh or hear laughter.
I feel less alone when I get sought after.
I feel less alone when I live life with a zest.
I feel less alone when I get recognized for trying my best.

Less alone is nice,
but let's be real.
Alone is someone who I will always feel.
Not one second spent not lonely,
not once, not twice.
At least, being less alone can be quite nice,
but this life still hasn't shown me,
how to never feel lonely.
Nobody ever told me.
Being me would mean having to be lonely.
All life has shown,
is that my name should be Alone.

Depths of Death Found in Drowning
September 21, 2013

Night will fall,
and the darkness of it all,
will wash my woes away a woah-oh.

The reckoning of wreck has been beckoning to be bet.
Find the ship that is destined to fail,
it set sail, on a demised trail.

When alone at night,
found lost without sight,
count the stars, for they are numbered.
They speak of one's destiny,
to meet morning slumbered.

It's been heard before,
the shark's shrill thrill,
yet still,
plunge into the depths of death.
A shrinking, sinking, step,
leading to a sleep deeper than can be dreamt.

Sweeping struggle,
breathing in bursts of bubbles,
drowning in what should be water.
But who would will,
that power to ****,
to what is in nature,
able to sit so still and serene?

See the scene,
picturesque - not obscene,
with a shiny gleam on the surface.
What does it mean?
To hold beauty never seen,
unless drowned in the dark of night fall.

Tell me,
What does it mean?
To find the meaning of beauty,
in the death of it all?

azure sestina
July 16, 2013

Brought to face ourselves finally,
what choices do we have in capturing the moment?
If I were given this chance
it would be most important to know for sure.
Look life in its eyes,
and see their sad shade of deep, blue, azure.

No matter how black my heart taints, or how bloodied my lips are stained, all that matters is azure.
I'm up against a stare that petrifies me, until I beg for freedom finally.
But I am powerless to escape those eyes.
I begin to enter your forever after ending never, in just one moment,
and I feel as though I can't say goodbye until I die, so I can be sure.
Sure that there really would be no second chance.

I first told you, "Take a chance,"
but we started with an ending, engulfed in azure.
My heart stretched further apart, as yours stayed unsure.
It broke finally.
Vanished in a month's mournful moment,
by the blink of those refusing to cry eyes.

I had to see things through your eyes.
So I could know that I should have left this all to chance.
You can blame me in the end, for ruining the moment.
As I rope back in my emotional tide, from the dark depths of azure.
I'll dock that torn up boat at your door, and conclude the voyage finally.
You wanted space, so you've got it, sure.

lovers' warfare poem
June 30, 2013

If I fall into love
Will falling further take me out?

The more I learned about them
The less I knew about myself.

When it came to kissing
They had something I'm now missing.

I've closed off communication
Awaiting some big transformation.

But I'm like a machine gun without the bullets
Scary looking yet can't damage anyone.

And I suddenly am hungrier for food
Must be the rift inside me, side-effect of my mood.

Today my bed isn't made and clothes strung out
I've got nobody to impress, my room matches my heart, the scene of a bout.

I lost in lovers' warfare
And since I've felt bruised under my skin, lost reason to care.

Morning Mystery
May 26, 2013

What oh what, wuh-oh what will my early morning bring?

A bird's chirp to greet her family.
The sunrise says hello to my eyelids.
No better medicine than the sunlight no longer hid.

Slowly a car passes either starting or ending their day.
Either way, the driver seemingly reluctant - understandably.

Leaves, branches, twigs, and sticks all being toyed with by the playful wind.
Sweeping through the trees in my front yard.

I see a world awake beyond my window.
This morning mystery is begging me to solve
what it takes to make a day great.

What I Wanna Do
April 30, 2013

I wanna rock back and forth on a swing set in the summery sun.
Get rid of my backpack, **** thing nearly weighs a ton.

I wanna lay in the grass at the park and get bit by bugs.
Stare with googly eyes at runners wearing tights and give strangers hugs.

I wanna run and chase the ice cream truck only to discover I don't have moolah.
Talk with friends late at night in my backyard as we tell stories and smoke hookah.

I wanna complain it's too hot outside and that my pool is too cold.
Stop sleeping early and stay up late, pretending I'm not getting old.

What I wanna do is with all of you.
My friends and family in Las Vegas.