His face obscure,
  but not hidden from your embrace,
     sweet unyielding radiant moon,
         I gaze upon your grace with jealousy,
               for I know upon your mirror,
                  he gazes in sweet reverie,
                       and the reflection he longs for,
                                is not me,
                                      but ᕼIᗰ

Longing for you,
  makes me contemplate.
     If this love is self hate.
         hate for a bird that can not sing.
            hate for a bird that wants to spread its wings.
                 hate for an ugly pigeon who dreams of being a dove.
you are everything
      I am ᑎOT

I used to hate the color brown,
   a constant reminder of marginalization
        of feeling innate. . .
            
But in brown. .
  you have red . . .
       yellow. . .
          &  blue. . .
             & every hue in-between

a gentle reminder,
     that brown is the dirt,
         that holds a field of flowers,
              so radiant, bright and colorful
                   which could not exist
                             without their foundation
                                    and with that
                                          I smile
                                                with ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ

When you lose everything,
    the saying goes "get back up and try again"
         but how do you get back up
            when every feeling, every word, of my past
                no longer exists in the physical world,
                     trying means being awake,
                        but I want to sleep,
                             for in dreams,
                                   I feel you,
                                   once more.

I used to envy others,
    and constantly ask why?
          but each time I asked why,
             a cut opened in my soul,
                  in endless cycle that would not heal.
It became unrecognizable,
      from my own Ⓐⓑⓤⓢⓔ

Beautiful sunlight,
  and sunrays which ooze life,
      a tranquil reminder of another day,
          another day I wished for it all to end.
               Beautiful Moonlight,
                   whose rays you can not escape,
                      a constant reminder of my jealousy and hate.
                          another day I looked towards the stars,
                           only to outline your smile so intoxicating and bright.

So I said to the Moon, The Sun and the Stars
      " Why do you mock me?"
               then came the reply through the rain,
                   each drop , never alone
                        a mocking reminder
                            I am αʅσɳҽ. . .

Blood stained sheets,
   the smell of **** and ****,
      creases in white linen , never looked so colorful
          endless rivers of tears and anguish,
              dreary flowers in drool stains,
                    if sheets could talk. . .
                        they would beg "please stop"
                            above a never ending bedrock of old mattress springs,
                               that groin and creak,
                                   a tectonic shift of emotions,
                                         disturbed by a thunderous voice
                                               " clean yourself up, sorry"

a reminder you had your way. . .
         -ŘÃƤẸ

Ay mi amor,
  sangre de mis venas,
     lleno de amor
       por la patria
          las legendes de ridículo
              Comida de de los indios
ay mi amor
    lloro por ti,
        por el dia
           que visito los montes
               con su monasterios,
                   de dios. . .

Yellow flowers of 𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥,
  we mourn and come upon their pupils,
      under the many colors of papal picado,
        endless rainbow of sweet emotion,
                a distant reminder of what past,
                         what is gone,
                               & what is eternal

I am sustained in you,
  your words penetrate the darkest caverns of my soul,
        your being is the vertigo of my fantasy,
           I fall at your knees, and drink from your springs,
                your very essence fills me,
                       an endless reminder of my fear,
                                my loss of breath,
                                            for I am sustained in you,
                                                         I hesitate, to let this dream end.
& I know this wanting of belonging,
    is a reflection of me onto you,
        but yet in the silence,
             my soul cries for you!
                    my sweet 𝓃𝒾𝓇𝓋𝒶𝓃𝒶

The world does not stop,
    from the trees,
          to the birds,
            always 𝓂🏵𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔,
               and I towards my tomb.

We are a flame,
   with age we grow,
        brighter,
           stronger,
             more ardent than the stars above,
                with age we die
                    to illuminate the next life.

I cried and cried,
   & the bird sang to me,
I cried and cried
   & the sun dripped his warm nectar onto me
I cried and cried
   & the moon with its endless reminder of beauty mocked me
So I dried my eyes,
  & laid in a quilt of grass
      in earthen sheets
         I went to sleep and forget,
              until I cry 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃.

Life is a chasm of dark solitude,
   my dear eternal love,
        I wish with my all heart,
            to close my eyes,
                 and meet in a sweet embrace.
                       for this pain is unforgettable,
                             I lose myself to a sea of my emotions,
                                               I drown in tears and sorrow,
Yet life is cruel,
    when I lose my breath,
       it pulls me up in a state of melancholy,
          I mourn, I mourn, and mourn
            in this punishment of damnation
               to live in solitude, longing for death
                       a death which does not come
                            so we can love once more.
                                my dear 𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝓁💮𝓋𝑒

December 30th, 2012

So pure and young, sweet love.
              I'm trapped in your song,
                    I wonder what you'd say,
                                I am completing your dream,
                                               Dr., Dr., Dr., that is all you'd say.
Sweet love,
  you are the silence in my eyes,
       the reason I cry at night, the reason I try so hard to live.
           yet, like raindrops in the summer heat,
               each moment passes like a blur,
                    a reminder that I could have done more,
                       so my sweet love I ask,
                             "are you ashamed of me"
                                 " are you ashamed of what I become"
                                       & in the unknowing,
                                           I know and weep
                                                for I fear your response,
                                                       when we meet.
                                                               ѕωєєт ℓσνє

Coffee at 5 o' clock,
   just another reminder I ****** up.
      two souls united ,
          beautifully in perfect  harmony.
              now they pull apart,
                    the sound of a closing door,
                      and another piece of my heart.
                          Longing for more, Ꝉօղցìղց ƒօɾ Ӏօѵҽ

The smell of salt and butter
    under endless sea of lights,
       lost in their own right
         under the sound
           of a movie about true love,
two hands meet in the darkness,
      What is this sharpness in my heart?
         Please take it for a second,
                  help me ƒì× ìէ
.

stroke of madness at my pillars,
  the dark blue sea that fills your eyes,
      break me to the very essence of my weak core
          you see through my impetuous being.

Words, words, they are just words
   but they change the very of aura of my spirit.
      clawing, at the soft bark,
           the rip down my pillars,
                 bring down my wall,
                     your sea rough , tumultuous, unyielding.

I wish I had a million balloons,
to tie and lift me higher,
      and rise above it all
            but your in your ocean,
                 I love myself,
                     drown,
                         fall
                          &
               I call it
                          l̶o̶v̶e̶

He was a giver,
   he gave and he gave,
      warm bodies were comfort,
          even if they cost a good cent.
They were takers,
     they took and took,
         until nothing was left,
             even if they knew it was wrong.
Both sides played the same song,
   until, he became ill,
     he begged and begged,  
        for salvation,  
           only to meet damnation,
              stormy sky's formed,
                "lift me up"
                    "𝒹❁𝓃'𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒"
                        the sky laughed mockingly,
                             he was alone.
                                 sky's cleared,
                                      he lay,
                                         naked,
                                           defeated,
                                              alone.
They wore black,
    They cried out their souls,
        Warm bodies called out his name,
            that's all he wanted,
               but it falls on deaths ears.

Little Brown Bird,
   in the clutches of your design,
      free your cage
           & ƒ𝐋𝐲

The pain begins tonight,
unimaginable torture of my own mental design,
   left under an imaginary starry sky,
    warm desert breeze, smell of rotten pine.
       my melancholy turns in your hand,
          lift me up, raise me up,
             help me become stronger.
                Let the sun, drip and fill the honey in my eye.
                   & take me out of this darkness.
                           𝓈𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒, 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅 𝓂𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒

What little hope was left,
   was gone, both the body and mind
       throne into an endless ᶜ𝔥σ𝐀Ｓ of disarray
           you said be calm,
               but where is the calm to my breaking heart,
                   where is the calm to its torturous bombs,
       each explosion a contortion of emotions, happiness, memory
                "be still my heart, please"
                       where is the calmness when I blame you,
                              when you a dream becomes a mistake
                     "be still my heart"
                           take me with him,
where is the calm, when you closed your eyes like the comet that no longer burns?
     "take me with you"
           for I am weak,
                 I am nothing,
                   I am not me,
                      without,
                             you!

My heart is a lighthouse,
   each beat a cut in the endless human sea,
      a cut, in the grandeur of the dreary sky,
          it spins, and spins,
             each Ƥùl𝓈є full of light,
               until with time it fades,
                    a reminder,
                        of longing,
                             belonging,
                                 wanting,
                                     yet fulfilled.

Let me lie under the smell of herbs,
       flowers, and rotting sap from ancient trees.
          prepare the earthly sheets,
             with pollen that tickles the nose
               an infinite reminder of my insanity.

Let me sleep,
  under the constellation of the lion,
      majestic vast grandeur,
          an infinite reminder of a strong soul,
               forever lost and broken.

Rock me to sleep,
  with the song of buds breaking open,
    and angels that sing the song of purgatory,
       an infinite reminder,
           of  man , a sinner, a son, a product of humanity.

In the end,
  when the pills run out,
      and the world returns to normalcy,
         with one less miserable soul,
             take a note,
                 that I am happy,
                         free ⓞη𝓬𝐞 ᵐ๏Ř乇

On a long and ugly forgotten beach,
  I curse and mock the sun, that bears witness to your lies,
I hear the waves, a figment of imagination,
     raging under my own decrepitly mental state.
Before the song of my nirvana,
    I curse the mother, and its womb,
        that brought perfection under the moon.
& within all this insanity,
    I curse you,
        loathe you,
           for in you,
              I see me,
                 foolish,
                    young,
                       in love,
                           βŘ𝐨𝓀𝓔𝐧

If I rip apart your perfect veneer,
   Disembowel its beauty,
      behind the peering darkness,
          lies a garden, with a fountain of lust
              for all you are,
                  all you will be,
                     is an imaginary object,
                          that is all you give,
                               all I get,
                                  want,
                        ­              & [̲̅N][̲̅e][̲̅e][̲̅d].

Your song enamors,
   every essence
      speech,
      taste,
      sound,
       sight.
Such a rarity,
   beauty that does not fade at any hour.

But, every dark circle beneath such ardent eyes,
fail to hide the black abyss of pain, wanting and belonging,
   for left as shells, I lost the fight,
      I am just another beautiful fool
           enamored,
               loving,
                  wanting,
                     yearning,
                       in the intricate web of lies,
                           so beautifully spun,
                             to think I am the only ❁𝓃𝑒

Smallness is not decided by others,
   it is not preordained fate,
    under the endless bastion of the fathers heaven,
         it is what YOU see in yourself,
              what YOU say about yourself,
                    what YOU think is acceptable
                        what YOU allow of others
                               It is 𝓎Ｏυ. . .

skin does not define us. . .
  yet I was born two shades darker,
    the world decided,
       that credit is lopsided,
          that crime is not misguided
             & that inclusion is adequality provided
                therefore, exclusion is justified.

skin defines us,
  keeps us divided
     shows "true" colors
         I should be angry?
            but I feel ashamed.
               not of color,
                 but of the human ЯΛᄃΣ

Corks off,
  and the night has just begun
    insecurities dissipate,
        glass after glass,
            think of you my dear friend,

two boys,
  a love of soccer,
    kicking and screaming
      under the burning desert breeze.

Two teens,
      with problems larger than the world,
          one cool,
             the other forgotten,
                 yet you stayed,
                     and I ****** again.

Eighteen,
    I found him,
        rubbed it in your face,
            yet you stayed

Twenty three,
    he left,
      I cried,
        you picked me up,
          after each glass
            only to find beration and condemnation.
              you stayed
                 I left. . .

Twenty Six
  one last puff,
      one last drink
         only to retrace my steps
           "I'm sorry"
              silence
                I love my only friend.

please don't leave me
I need you
I need you
please f̶o̶r̶g̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶m̶e̶

callused, dry , rough
    ugly. . .
      They smelled of sweat and grease,
           blue stained ***** finger nails
              a beautiful reminder
of all you do for me. . .
       his hand are minder of a life,
                a home,
                    & warmth.

Ugly is me,
  a reminder of how heartless
     and appreciative I can be.
          for each scar, is a reminder of sacrifice and love,
               ever so undeserved.

-ₕₐₙdₛ

You were the most beautiful thing,
  behind a icy can of coke on a warm aired summer day.
      Love at first sight,
        until you spoke.

-ᴄᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴋᴇ

We are taught not to envy others.
   but I am a failure at life, a sacrilegious romantic fool.
I envy every second of the hand you hold,
so unaware as you gaze at your phone.
  Envy the seconds you sit together for a meal,
     ignoring one another.
        Envy when you sleep together,
           only to cheat together.

I envy others,
  my eyes fill with hate,
    for they serve as a mirror,
      in them I see me.
          . . .I'm s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶ . . .

I am the product,
  of a lover who could not love,
    a poet who could not write,
       people who could not live,
          a human who was inhumane.

I am a product,
   made. . .
      fake. . .
       & his greatest mistake. . .

-ⓟⓡⓞⓓⓤⓒⓣ

"why do you always cry"

maybe. .  just maybe. .
I am an emotional wreck,
  who cried on the bathroom floor,
    for love and loss and turned into a fragile core.


maybe. . just maybe. .
  earth is my purgatory,
    an endless mirage of torment and misery
      that is deserved for when I chose you,
        I left him.
          and the words I said to him,
             " I love you"
                 became . . .
𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕

December 24th, 2020

Sweet love, sweet friend.
  I promised to never love again until the end,
   for I was unsure I could trust. . .
    smell of burnt pine, and ice cold December air,
      a reminder of your ever warm embrace.

Sweet love, sweet friend,
I failed to love you to the end.
for I am starting to love again,
my heart and I are in a constant fight.
for I yearn for your love,
But I found a man whose breaking my walls.

Sweet Love, Sweet Friend
  I am terrified to love again,
    I am forever yours,
      heart,
      body,
      and soul which weeps for you.
  his love which has bound me in chains.

Sweet Love, Sweet Friend,
   I feel guilty,
     I want to stop my breath,
        to feel your touch,
           your embrace,
             to hear your voice,
               & smell your skin.
                 I am terrified to love again,
                      scared I was your greatest mistake.


Sweet Love, Sweet Friend
   until we meet again. . .
      but I will try and take the - 🆁🅸🆂🅺

Take me back to a time,
      when La Divina blessed the stage,
          when the horrors of war did not exist,
                when man only knew love and not hate,
                     when imaginary lines did not divide us,
  when religion and race did not exist.
        take me back before the creation of constructs,


Please take me.

-ⓣⓐⓚⓔ ⓜⓔ

I am a giver,
    a hopeless romantic,
       who gives happiness,
             what no one has given to me.
yet, they call me crazed, and deranged.
I can be the smartest person in the world,
      all it takes, is for one person to say "you are insane"
          then comes the doubt,
               the self hate,
                    self loathe,
                       and finally the loss of myself.
but I am a giver,
  a hopeless dreamer,
       who wishes for happiness,
           when none exists in an endless cycle,
               that never ceases to exist.

-🅶🅸🆅🅴🆁

8th of August 2012

My dear sweet friend,
my heart should be raging unrelenting, but its full of tepid waves.
   I feel listless as in endless sleep in my mothers womb,
      and yet I ask why?
          self-sacrifice met with betrayal.
a heart so broken,
the very essence of my soul weeps.
    I lay, ever so wide-awake, the silent darkness,
        a reminder, I am alone.

So why my sweet friend,
     do I not curse them,
        wish ill will,
               bad health,
                  or even death?

for when did I become weak. . .

▌│█║▌║▌║ ฬεά𝐤 ║▌║▌║█│▌

Dear Love,

The day of sweet encounter is coming,
  my heart beats in excitement,
     I hear the noise of their tears like rain on midsummer eve,
         and yet sadness does not overtake me,
               I yearn for the love under a desert breeze,
                   a love that blossomed,
                        a love that shattered,
                           death took you from me,
and yet all I can ask is do you still want me?
My love, I am yours,
they cry for me, beg me to stay,
   but I welcome death,
       and his cold embrace
            for until we meet again.


𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎

I love you body and soul,
graced by the heavens to find you,
to have us together is my nirvana.
I am too proud to admit,
you are
my breath. .
my brain. . .
the tenderness. . .
my heart . . .
please, oh please.
by gods grace keep us united,
for I yearn for your love and respect.
Hear my plea, for its not a child's plea.,
but filled with sentiment from our youth.
promise to be tender
to love, and give affection.
I am yours to do as you will,
I am yours to break at your will
so please love me.

Your soul,
𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽

it's so easy to love someone,
when that person does not love you,
   He will mock you,
        He will use you,
            He will leave you disgusted,
              & broken too.
                But, its so easy to love him.

It's so hard to love someone,
  when that person loves you.
    He will cherish you,
        He will support you,
          He will leave you happy,
            & ecstatic too.
               But, yet its so hard to love him.

-ʍąʂօçհìʂէ

When your heart turns blue,
  remember our moment under the ugly tree,
    turn tears into smiles,
       when your heart is weary of misery ,
            turn to me. . .
                let me hold hold those feelings of melancholy.

-Ⓣ𝓊尺ᑎ 𝕋𝑜 м𝒆

Take my lips, and stain them.
Take my arms, and hold them,
Take my heart, and break it.
Take my eyes, so they can see,

Take my hips, and move them.
Take my legs, dance with them.

Better yet. . .

Take my soul, into yours.
   So we can dance in a state of purgatory
      in endless bliss, take me. . .

-T͓̽a͓̽k͓̽e͓̽ ͓̽m͓̽e͓̽

Perfect overhanging telephone cable shoes,
mocking under a desert breeze,
   torn ***** chucks that leave their mark,
           on a dark tapestry full of imagination.

Counting pennies in a stream,
children hypnotized by lovely tunes,
   desperately trying to buy scribblers for they come in two,
      two beautiful pops of multiple hues,
          dancing in synchrony,
                only to be ripped part,
                   under the desert breeze.

you were my scribbler. . .
  such a sweet memory,
     of two souls in a romantic setting,
           if only I had known,
                 I would say goodbye. . .

-ѕ¢яιввℓєя

Every second I wished you dead,
after you touched me,
each stroke
reducing me
. . . human. . .
. . . animal. .  .
. . . worthless . . .

you died,
at the funeral,
  I did not cry,
but I did not want you to rot,
I did not want you to burn,
I did not want to shout from the pew,
I was worthless,
at that time I was five,
but now I am fine,
I guess this feeling
is forgiveness not for you
but for me.


↫↫↫↫↫ ＦㄖяⓖⓘＶє𝐧ᵉŜＳ ↬↬↬↬↬

Elegant,
     polished,
              refined,
                  a mother used to say
                                   "be like marble"

but like marble I am porous,
  so easily cracked,
      broken,
        chipped
            scratched.
              each injury a reminder of  my weakness.


Like Marble,
  age becomes endemic of problem unspoken,
      I am replaced,
           for I am weak,
              broken and cracked.

"Mother I am like marble"

-мαявℓє

Fiery mysterious exchanges of passion and pings,
an undiluted heart,
ever wondering, wanting, yearning, for more.
Unrelenting words that arrive in seconds. . .

Ordinary texts to incite conversation,
with invitations to serve as reassurance,
a heart that dwindles but still cares,
words that arrive in minutes. . .

Mundane routine,
eyes that barley peek,
ears that barley perk,
words that barley flow in hours.

Uninteresting,
forgotten memories,
ever so distant, ever so close, but ever unwanted.
and words that lay unread. . .


-ᵤₙᵣₑₐd

Green,
  mesmerizing deep green,
    waves of endless emotion,
      freckles,
         sweet marks of perfection.
"hi"
   one word
     tainted
          yellow
             impure
                love
                  at 5.

-ιɱρυɾҽ

Fairytale's do not exist,
  you will not awake from a grown mans kiss,
     he will swipe right, kiss you at night, and be gone the next day.

Fairy godmother will not free you,
   you will be bound the corporate overload that pays you,
     they will use you and abuse you, until you are discarded.

No one will climb your hair,
  you will fade into obscurity,
     a figment of a "friendship" that once existed


and even then
   in the face of reality
      I still believe people are good at heart.

-Gₒₒd ₐₜ ₕₑₐᵣₜ