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15h
it's better company
aviisevil 15h
it's better company

the city’s out cold
the moon cries
like it knows something
I don’t

phone rings—
I let it die

what’s left to say
we haven’t already killed
with silence

I’ve felt
everything
too many times

the cogs keep spinning

do more
be more
become less
until you’re
someone else

we work
we run
we laugh like it’s medicine
we forgive what we shouldn’t
forget what we can’t

always waiting
for something
that never shows up

do more
be more

end up
less

less sleep
less soul
less of whoever
you used to be

you wake up
in someone else’s
skin

every breath
spent

dumped
into some black hole
like maybe it’s listening

washed down
with cheap whiskey
and cigarettes
that stick to your fingers

work
run
pretend

we laugh
when we’re dying

it’s better for
company

makes it easier
to sit with people

Continue reading...
3d
sorrows of Nazareth
aviisevil 3d
sorrows of Nazareth

the kinds of
sorrows

nested in the
arms of Oizys

soaked in a cloak
of severance

circling the roads
to Nazareth

praying, preying,
pretending

watching the sun
kiss the moon —

the last act of
devotion

before the sun
sets

and we’re all
silent again

Continue reading...
May 27
Beginning
aviisevil May 27
Beginning

letting go
of the sun, the moon,
and the stars.

drifting through quieter skies,
faintly vivid,
testing the waters
that never held me.

am i a free bird,
or just dust
in the wind?

to let go
of yourself—

the kind of sorrow
that keeps me awake;

the child
who never slept
or smiled,

still knocking
on the door
i buried
long ago.

how do i tell
him

there is no place
where sleep remembers us—

only roads
we walk
until the sunset
swallows
what’s left.

Continue reading...
May 24 · 15
it lies in you
aviisevil May 24
it lies in you

It can happen in the
middle of white-water
rafting—

waves swirling in
her depths,

reaching for the
mountains.

It can happen on
a Saturday,

between chatter and
laughter,

tea and coffee
and whiskey,

and a lot of
cigarettes.

It happened while
looking for shells at
the beach,

or the rocks in
the river.

Don't you
remember?

When it comes
without knocking,

shut the doors
and windows.

In the middle
of nowhere,

swallowing bones,
flesh, and teeth—

it can happen
to anyone

until it happens
to you.













Continue reading...
May 12 · 100
the fool
aviisevil May 12
the fool

And the fool—
wide-eyed, swaddled in pink dusk
and thorn-sick roses,
suckling on the myth of hearsay.

Sketching sunsets across barren fields,
he swings the shackles—
wars, blood-grit, and the stale breath of ghosts—
mistaking the fires for a beatitude.

It is easy to be the culprit
in April’s fickle winds—
no hands reaching for winter’s ruins,
left frostbitten and mute,
like chapters pressed between the pages
of dust and dusk.

The fool speaks no tales of the world—
a bystander, heart ajar,
flinging wide the doors, the windows,
begging the seas to split.
He mouths prayers not his,
sings borrowed hymns—
and does it all,
anyway.

For that is the fool—
played, preyed upon
by the cruel and the cunning,
their feast of him
a ceremony of abandon and appetite.

Until dawn splits the sky—
and the world,
picked clean to bone-white skeleton,
turns, hungry, toward another joy.

Continue reading...
May 11 · 301
the city held me
aviisevil May 11
the city held me

the city held me in her arms
and told me not to look—

close your eyes,
she whispered,

don’t let your silence
spill into the streets.

let the birds sing,
let the lovers live
and dance.

there is no need here
for someone like you,

with your night
and broken bones,

your silence that grows
roots.

go quietly,
let the light pass you by—

we are a place of the living,
and you are made
of yesterday.

Continue reading...
May 7 · 118
dream error
aviisevil May 7
dream error

I saw a dream
in the sky—

silver clouds
poured through
the cracks

tiny birds circled
the carcasses

of toiling bone
and flesh

and here, in
my sleep

the streets
bustled with
chatter—

the many lights
mixing with fumes
and laughter

and the city
like a heartbeat
kept pulsing on

without
me

Continue reading...
May 6 · 90
toiling
aviisevil May 6
toiling

If you must know—
know that I am not the sun.
Shadows have settled
deep in my bones,
like old tenants
who no longer pay rent
but still stay.

My thoughts turn to thorns,
curling inward
until I bleed
from the inside out.

My whispers scorch my breath,
my silences
scream in tongues
no one hears.

Night is the song I seethe—
a lullaby laced with rust,
and every dream
is a bruise
I wake to.

There is darkness
in my veins,
not the poetic kind—
but the heavy kind,
the kind that forgets
how to move,
how to feel warmth,
how to want the morning.

And some days,
I forget
how light ever
found me.
How I ever
let it in.

Continue reading...
May 5 · 73
Untitled
aviisevil May 5
Untitled











It is the month
of the bluest skies

when lovers bloom
beneath the yellow sun

like trees brushed green
once more

They dance freely
in the summer wind
barefoot
on soft earth

unbothered by
the seasons yet to
come

as if autumn
were but a rumor

carried quietly
in the hush
between












Continue reading...
May 4 · 63
puerility
aviisevil May 4
puerility












nothing comes
to mind—
only years
long gone

through snow
and rain
in summer’s fire
and winter’s hush

laughter echoed
tears fell
mountains stood still

seas we crossed
films we lived
and all our
innocence

now just stories
letters
memories

how deeply we yearn
for what we
already hold










Continue reading...
Apr 26 · 104
ruins hanging
aviisevil Apr 26
ruins hanging


to wake with
a heavy heart,
sinking into
the bed sheets —

battling
the abyss,

the long days
yet to come
gathering dust
in the corners
of this room.

sunlight spills,
scattering ruins
dangling by threads;

storms rise,
rage,
and disappear.

shadows linger
in the folds
of the curtains,

the clock ticks —
a slow, tired drip
into the silence.

hope is a moth
beating itself
against the window,

a soft persistence
against an endless sky.

still, the body breathes,
still, the heart remembers
the shape of light.


Continue reading...
Apr 24 · 141
pauper
aviisevil Apr 24
pauper

I see brittle coffers
offering arms, legs,
and eyes—

palms, flesh,
and brittle bone—

trading sky
for a sliver of moon,

measuring heartache
on rusted scales,
trying to balance
what’s already broken.

While those behind
windows and curtains
and silence

take quiet note
of what you become
with time.


Continue reading...
Apr 12 · 239
O, how I failed you
aviisevil Apr 12
O, how I failed you


i failed you —
again
and again

you
so afraid
of everything

hidden in your room
curtains drawn
windows boarded
lights gone dim

bowed before your gods
praying
begging
knowing

i’ve never known
anyone stronger —

to live
as you did
to love
as you have

exhausted
fighting
still dreaming

the world
wasn’t for you
but you
never complained

so this is
my ode to you

i’m sorry


#dark #sad
Continue reading...
Apr 7 · 164
tomorrow eats itself
aviisevil Apr 7
tomorrow eats itself


last week
was survival.

i chewed the hours
like glass candy,
smiling blood.

tomorrow
i return
to the fire.

even the tears
have abandoned me—
silent deserters.

if only
i were the abyss,
endless.

or the pit below,
forgotten
and deep.

if only
i were meant
to be devoured—
ripped, gnawed, gone.

or maybe
a silver cloud,
slipping between
sun and sorrow.

a mountain,
unmoved.

a river,
unbothered.

the sea,
never full.

but alas—
i am only me.

and tomorrow,
i burn again


Continue reading...
Apr 6 · 208
it comes in rage
aviisevil Apr 6
it comes in rage


It comes in rage—
silence spilling
like ink
onto paper.

A sinking feeling,
sharp and familiar,
knocks on my door.

I feel her weight
pressing through the walls,
settling on my chest,
burrowing deep
into my flesh.

Her wild eyes
cut through the dark—
searching, knowing.

I hide
behind the curtains,
soft and useless.

The door stirs—
opens
the fire grinning.

Flames climb,
and smoke thickens—
curling into the corners
of the room,
into me.

But it’s alright.

I hardly breathe
anymore.


#depression
Continue reading...
Apr 5 · 148
the house I haven't built (the art of grieving vol. 3)
aviisevil Apr 5
the house I haven't built (the art of grieving vol. 3)

I breathe here—in this house
someone else built.

And I’ve lived in houses
built by others—

some far, some near,
but never mine.

I call this room mine—
these things, these clothes,
these books—
they are mine.

Aren’t they?

I look out the window
and see the trees, the sky,
the birds—

they’re not mine,
but I keep them close anyway.

I have loved,
and I have cried.
I’ve made others cry.

It’s not a fair deal.
It comes and it goes—
it rarely stays.

Like the words I bleed—
I confess,
I rarely know what to write,
but I write anyway.

And why do we write?

For someone to find us?
For us to find them?

For them to see us—
just see us?

There’s no art in this world
that isn’t a longing.

There are no happy songs,
or paintings, or photographs—

they’re all fleeting.

They don’t exist
the way we do.

You don’t have to believe me.

It doesn’t matter.
I do not matter.

My thoughts,
my dreams,
my words—

they do not matter.

Nothing rarely does.

But I write anyway—
maybe you’ll find me,
and none of this will matter.

#love
Continue reading...
Apr 4 · 101
the art of grieving vol 2
aviisevil Apr 4
the art of grieving vol 2


children don’t come out to play anymore,
my friend says, rolling matchsticks between
his fingers.

remember when we used to play until dark
until our mothers dragged us back into our homes

he says this between lighting another cigarette

that's why these young men today
can't run, can't lift—
they drop like dead flies on treadmills
their hearts can't take the madness of the world

he sips his third beer

we used to roll in grass, in dirt, in blood
trying to break ourselves
trying to break each other

tell me—
how many bones did we break
before turning eleven?

I try to say something
but nothing comes

he looks at me
and stares off into the distance

remember when we used to climb trees
there are no trees anywhere

what happened to the trees?

I guess they needed more homes, I say

he tosses the cigarette **** into the empty can
and the can onto the freshly cut grass

he looks at me
then starts to walk away

dusk is here

I think I'll sit here for a while
while my friend goes to look for
his mother.


Continue reading...
Apr 4 · 79
the art of grieving
aviisevil Apr 4
the art of grieving

It is grief, I'm sure of it, it is grief— she says, swinging her arms.
I look at her bright eyes and trusting
smile—then I look again.

I know it in my heart, she says.

She is small but larger than life,
and I wonder—how much room does her heart have?
Is it full of grief?
If so, where does she keep me and my longing?

She takes a sip of red wine,
and I notice her pretty lips.

Oh, how tormenting it must be
to be such a fine, lovely creature—
to speak of sadness,
to spell it out,
to give words, and meaning, and shape to suffering.

I wonder if a lonely man can do such a thing.

I’ve seen men cry, yes—
and I’ve seen them clench their fists,
break porcelain cups—
and break themselves.

But I’ve never seen them become poetry.

Continue reading...
Apr 3 · 147
Nights child.
aviisevil Apr 3
Nights child.

Night’s child—sorrow of the
morning sun.

April arrives—bare, too soon,
unraveling the winds.

Do the mountains know?
Do the rivers?

That you are the light,
sharp as the moon.

Pink blossoms bloom—
splitting the bluest sky.

Do the seas confess?
Do the sunsets?

That you are the
ocean’s dream.

Bricks of the city quiver
as the hammer comes down,

red-soaked—like the blood moon
on paper and ink.

Pearls, flowers, and rains
blossom into spring.

Green meadows rise,
turning into butterflies.

Do the stars concede?
Do the shadows?

That you are
summer’s smile—

child of heaven
and dawn,

vast as I am
small and barren—

hope of the
morning sun.



Continue reading...
Apr 2 · 191
you, the light
aviisevil Apr 2
you, the light

April arrives—bare, too soon
unraveling the winds

Do the mountains know
Do the rivers

That you are the light
sharp as the moon

Pink blossoms bloom—
splitting the bluest sky

Do the seas confess
Do the sunsets

That you are
the ocean’s dream

Pearls, flowers, and rains—
flower into spring

Green meadows grow
into butterflies

Do the stars concede
Do the shadows

That you are
summer's smile—

The forest of heaven
and dawn

wilderness, the cosmic
heartbeat—

simply, outrageously
irrevocably

beautiful

Continue reading...
Mar 23 · 110
you, the colossal
aviisevil Mar 23
you, the colossal

O my dearest —
how many volumes
does it take
to birth a cathedral

The heavy tomes
now stacked
against the grieving sunset —

stone and paper
bearing down on the dusk

Here you built this city
the roads
the bustling houses
buzzing with gifted breath

The libraries hush
heavy with you —
your gentle handprint
on the spines
your smile
stitched into the walls

The gardens bloom
their roots drunk on your name
flowers
trees
and bees
that find honey
in your step

So much of you remains —
in the sky’s pale hush
in the walls
of spring and autumn
curtains billowing
your name
your creed

In fathers
in mothers
in forebears and children —

soft replicas
learning slowly
how to miss
how to grieve

You
the colossal



To my sweet grandmother, may you find peace and happiness where ever you are, thank you for blessing us with your life and being.
Continue reading...
Mar 22 · 90
painted pain
aviisevil Mar 22
painted pain

at the ends, they clutch silver-silk straws,
sip from spoons of mercury — have you noticed?

how the broken walk the same as us,
hollow vessels crackling softly,
bits of themselves rattling like loose coins
in a beggar’s cup.

they leave trails —
grief, cigarette ash,
monday mornings that taste of iron and sleepless teeth,
sunrises pacing in their cages.

the clouds swallow them without whisper,
the wind retracts —
does not brush their sleeves,
does not call them home.

heavy air curdles in corners,
cold as the underside of stones.

i’ve watched them smile at empty coffers,
that smile — a smear of rouge on a corpse’s cheek,
so bright,
so unholy,
painted pain.

Continue reading...
Mar 21 · 131
house of autumn
aviisevil Mar 21
house of autumn


My house, when I was young,
was tangled with trees and neat little flowers,
lined in rows — seas of red, pink, and white.

Or perhaps that was only a dream,
and I was never young.
Perhaps I arrived
fully formed, carved in stone,
walking in borrowed feet.

How is it that I gave myself up so easily?

Was it the sparse decorations,
the dusty mirrors where I saw myself,
trying not to become barren,
swallowed by storms,
covering bone with flesh, hair,
and new fabric?

I wish there were a place
to set down my heart and leave it there —
let my lungs do the talking,
let my arms measure the weight of hurt.

Perhaps then I could lift my spirit
at the decay of night,
and not lie awake,
in this sedated body,
restless beneath the autumn sky.

This tenacious boredom
has carved a cathedral
deep in my wounds.

How quickly I would give it all up,
burn it all, so easily —

if I weren’t made of neat little flowers,
smoke, ash, and forgotten relics.

But how can I?

They deserve to flee,
to root themselves
in a new home
elsewhere.


#life
Continue reading...
Mar 21 · 92
Lazarus species
aviisevil Mar 21
Lazarus species

I have yet to let the silence fill me completely.
Only words remain — pale husks, soundless,
yet screaming in the marrow of my ears.

I alone bear their rotting weight,
the brittle corpses lining my tongue.
Who else? I speak into hollow rooms,
my voice scattering like dried leaves.

Who else will watch you crash into the moon,
then spill into my half-empty glass
of fumes and restlessness?

The sun will rise tomorrow, unknowing
of the raw labor it takes
to lift my body from its grave of sheets,
my heart a stone, unmoving.

The ceiling gnaws at the sky —
its teeth sink into my hours.
Dusk, with her damp palms,
presses me into forgetting.

And yet, from the balcony,
I see distant cities glitter like broken jewelry.
I do not ache for their songs,
their spinning dances, their crystal plates.

But the crowds — the crowds —
let them tear me limb from limb:
arms, legs, flesh, bone,
the soft, spoiled fruit of my mind —

let them take it all,
until nothing remains of yesterday’s weight.
Only leave me these eyes,
so I may witness the undoing.

#life
Continue reading...
Mar 20 · 152
after the fire
aviisevil Mar 20
after the fire

monster dreams
and hides,

burning in my
bones,

melting the
doors,

finding ways
to survive
when it gets
cold.

words have
drained,
doused the
fires

outside.

outside, there's
this wilderness
I cannot
control —

how it eats
me whole,
tearing pieces
of my soul

until there's
nothing left
of me

but silence,
untold.

#hurt
Continue reading...
Mar 18 · 121
for when the winter comes
aviisevil Mar 18
for when the winter comes

let my tears
bloom as flowers
i will lay them
at your feet

watch their colors
fade to whispers
turn to silence
while i weep

and when the hour
comes to wither
let my sorrows
burn and bleed

like dusk dissolves
into the sea
may the silence
softly keep

the flowers born
from all i weep
and if you ever
dream alone

of tears once sown
just know they bloomed
for you
and you alone

#love
Continue reading...
Mar 5 · 1.0k
Catch the sun
aviisevil Mar 5
Catch the sun

I spiral, and
I burn

'round and
'round

trying to catch
the sun

How I try to
become

someone you'd
know

but I'm not the
one

The days grow
old

the nights come
undone

There's so much
to forget

about the things
I never learned

The knives twist
and turn

the scars weave
and have spun

My tears, old
and young

'round and
'round

I spiral, and
I burn

trying to catch
the sun

#hurt
Continue reading...
Feb 27 · 168
I love the Rain and Autumn
aviisevil Feb 27
I love the Rain and Autumn

the yellow sun
will rise again

this city will stir
stretching into the day

and I wonder—

will the evening bring
rain?

will dark clouds
cloak the grey sky?

for a moment
perhaps

autumn may
come early

and I wonder if
it will notice I am
not there

it doesn't matter
anymore

Continue reading...
Feb 27 · 295
Silly little life
aviisevil Feb 27
Silly little life


For I want to be
kissed by the sun

not the candlelight

There isn’t room
at this table
for the both of us

I want to sleep
deep in the forest

close my eyes
and not be alone

A bed for two
only lasts the night

I want to take my heart
hold it in my arms

and not give it back
this time

To laugh and sing
and dance

to let them know
it’s just a silly little life

but it’s mine


#life
Continue reading...
Feb 26 · 128
In the bones of the planet
aviisevil Feb 26
In the bones of the planet

In the bones of
the planet

blooms an
orchid of silver
moonlight

perhaps in
rebellion

against the grimy clouds
that pour heaven

into tiny
porcelain cups

so easy to
break

and yet, there
it grows—

the
moonchild

risen against
the dark

there's something about rebellion, resilience and the fight against what is heavy, and wrong, and dark and burdening, that somehow, the mundane and ordinary can give birth to something extraordinary, something that defines what it means to be here.
#life
Continue reading...
Feb 14 · 189
will you keep being my home?
aviisevil Feb 14
will you keep being my home?












I've seen you become
and then change,

and then again,
come back to me

through the same
doors.

As I have come
back to yours.

You were the sky,
the warm floors,

endless days
of summer—

the ones I spent
nestling inside
your arms.

And the way the
city looked when I
stood,

resting in your
calm.

My favorite place
in the world—















I keep telling
everybody

how you were my
special place,

how the world
felt when I looked
over your shoulder.

Where else will I ever
taste the winds of August
caressing my hair?

The many stars that
watched me grow into
an autumn of my own,

or the thousand times
I smiled, laughed,
and cried.

How will anything
ever be the same
without you?

















Will you keep being
my home?

When I pass you
by,

will you keep being
my home?

After the tears
have dried,

will you keep being
my home?

After our final
goodbyes,

will you keep being
my home?

Will you keep being
my home?













#home
Continue reading...
Feb 11 · 143
the good love
aviisevil Feb 11
the good love

I love your love—
cruel, twisted, and dark

With my flesh
my bones
my heart


I loved your love
until it tore me apart

And yet
I love you still—
for all the grief

the darkness
the dead planets
the broken promises
the fading stars

It's better than
not loving anyone
ever again

I love your love
when you smile in the dark

I love your love
like a ghost loves the past

I love your love
even when nothing is
supposed to last.

#love
Continue reading...
Feb 5 · 129
the sorrowed man
aviisevil Feb 5
the sorrowed man

I see the sorrows
of the young boy

He is eight
and already in mourning

Every morning
he wakes up to a fate
older than time

knowing the world
isn’t meant for the likes of him

For a fleeting moment
it all starts making sense—

but then he turns around
and smiles at the crowd

says the few words
he practiced last night

He's so good at
not being himself

And the further he runs
from his flesh and bone

the quicker time
passes by

Now he's thirty
and he's still running—

writing down meaningless
poetry and fiction

filling his lungs
with cigarette smoke

drowning his dreams
in cheap whiskey

accepting the loneliness
that comes from within

Cometh the pouring
of another glass

I see the sorrows
of the old man

but now
it’s too late

#life
Continue reading...
Jan 24 · 154
how many of me for how much of you?
aviisevil Jan 24
how many of me for how much of you?

Lovers painted in
the moonlight

curtains drawn
into slumber

Promises and wishes
must find another's bed

The weak heart
has surrendered

its sorrows gathered
in the depths of your arms

Sharp secrets of
the bygone days

must search for
a different home

The walls of this house
are painted in mist

the ceiling pours
a silent storm

Every breath becomes
a cascading sad song

lingering in
hollow despair

Only a skeleton
remains

awaiting a final
word

#love
Continue reading...
Dec 2024 · 338
Apocalypse
aviisevil Dec 2024
Apocalypse

Let the blade
run its course.

Let the fools
be devoured.

Let the unkind
shriek in despair.

For too long,
the world has been ruled
by belongings.

Let the threads
unweave,
and the night
crash into the days.

Everyone for themselves—
that is what’s on offer.

Lest we survive.

#life
Continue reading...
Dec 2024 · 457
untying
aviisevil Dec 2024
untying

Can you untie
the knots—
when nothing’s broken?

Everything lingers,
still,
held in deep slumber.

And then it arrives:
the rains of July,
shattering silence,
demanding reckoning.

Has it come to this?
Seas unraveling,
moons collapsing,
the sun rising
to an empty bed.

Has it drifted so far?
Rivers swallowed by dust,
mountains falling to ash,
no one left
to witness
the purple skies.

A solitary world,
silent,
its shadows long,
waiting
to be forgotten.


#life
Continue reading...
Dec 2024 · 114
science of lonely men
aviisevil Dec 2024
science of lonely men

This aged body,
in new clothes.

Battered seas,
under the yellow sun.

The violet light
of violence.

If stars could
tell a story,

would they not speak
of degradation—

of ruins,
of a civilization,

of my heart?

The science
of lonely men—

grief that cannot
be shared,

confined to
history books.

Empty pages of
old photographs,

collecting the dust
of the world,

fading in ink.


Continue reading...
Dec 2024 · 135
Is it enough?
aviisevil Dec 2024
Is it enough?

How
do you smile
only once a day?

How
did I become the thief
of your laughter?

You could’ve been loved
in so many other ways—
so much more,
so much better.

It breaks my heart
to see you settle
for so little,
for so much less.

If I were anything more,
how much more
could I have truly been?

Is it enough?
I ask myself each day.

I could have swept you off your feet.
If I ever did,
I’m sorry.
You deserved better—

The moon, the stars,
the sky, the world.

Dinner dates in Paris,
the finest wine,
the rarest diamonds,
the grandest dreams.

A better heart,
a kinder mind,
a story worth telling.

But I know—
not enough.

Continue reading...
Dec 2024 · 157
cometh, absolution.
aviisevil Dec 2024
cometh, absolution.


The night has
settled.

Unsettled questions
swim in the dark,
crashing against
the walls.

The silver moon
spills softly on
the white sheets.

Empty corners
bleed into the heavy
air.

Unspoken secrets
decay in the carton.

Silence has come
with absolution.

The violent grief
of the lonely hour
shall abandon the
sails too.

And adrift would
be my belongings,
swirling into the
dark currents,
crashing against
the doors and the
windows,
knocking on my
dreams, my thoughts,
and more.

And where shall I
be,
when the dust
has settled,
and the shipwreck
has become part of
her abandonment?

Every piece of
her being
sowed in the
dust of this cunning
planet.

No one to see
for what she has
now become,
no one to remember
her name,
or mine.



#dark #life
Continue reading...
Dec 2024 · 126
grief, of the world.
aviisevil Dec 2024
grief, of the world.


The things that find
me on a Tuesday:

broken,
ugly,

like me,

like the mirror that
stares at me,

waiting for me
to wake up,

waiting for me to
fall asleep,

waiting for me
to smile,

waiting for me
to surrender.

And that I do,

for whatever
reasons,

to sell me a
certain rationality.

For meaning is now
a distant memory,

fading from
my thoughts.

I see nothing but
restless eyes,

and that is
all I see.

I’ve spent all my
feelings worrying
about everything,

and everything has
passed me by,

as autumn
passes the trees,

as summer
passes my youth.

And as winter
makes a home,

I find myself locking
the doors,

drawing the
curtains,

lest the light
falls into my
sorrows,

and the birds
sing to me,

telling me there’s
still a tomorrow

to suffer.




#dark #life
Continue reading...
Dec 2024 · 132
melancholy on a budget
aviisevil Dec 2024
melancholy on a budget

Sometimes I sit
by the balcony

with cigarettes
and cheap whiskey,

thinking about all
the things I couldn’t
be.

That’s all I can afford
on a budget for two.

Silver clouds drift
across autumn skies,

yellow lights
line the streets,

and my bitter soul
reminisces about
sweet nothings.

#dark #life #love #people
Continue reading...
Nov 2024 · 108
there is a place so dark
aviisevil Nov 2024
there is a place so dark


what are the
sins of the lonely?

are they kept
in the walls of a home
that cannot weep?

for tears may come
when the fruit is ripe,
but it would taste only
of sweet nothings.

I have kept a world
inside of me,
a world far from the
outdoor light.

that place is no longer
what it once was.
it has aged, as have I.

it craves no more
the soft hum of conversations
about art and life,
nor the company of those
different from me.

it has watched too much
come and go,
watched so much
amount to nothing.



and so, I walk these
empty roads,
this fragile and silent world.

the sins of the lonely
are etched in walls
that will never learn
to weep.

in unwritten letters
to no one,
in a soured world
hidden within.

this mind, this body—
this flesh, these bones—
aged and brittle,
ugly and unloved,

now hold only the ghosts
of what once was.

and I am buried deep,
entombed in this place
that has forgotten itself.


#dark
Continue reading...
Nov 2024 · 99
untitled
aviisevil Nov 2024
untitled


I've turned
the pages

maybe a hundred
times over

to write to
you

poetry from
my heart

and yet the
words fail me

and I'm left
with nothing

but the poem
that you are

more beautiful
than any language
can describe

and no book
can ever hold
you

all those pages
I'll write for you

shall never be
enough

for me to sing
to you

what it means
for me to see you
smile

#love
Continue reading...
Oct 2024 · 164
One day I fell in love
aviisevil Oct 2024
One day I fell in love

Perhaps it was
a day in October,

or summer,
or spring—

it could have been
a Tuesday,

or the rains
in July.

How could I
have known?

I’ve rarely been
that blessed.

Perhaps it was
her eyes,

the song
of her laughter,

those many nights
of longing,

or the distance
that has come of
age.

But one day,
I fell in love.

#love
Continue reading...
Oct 2024 · 134
that day in yesterday
aviisevil Oct 2024
that day in yesterday

She sleeps in
my arms,

her softness against
my skin,

her warm touch
needling me,

an endless embrace
of summer.

How I miss her
now;

she’s everything—
perfect,

a never-ending
moonlight,

the expanse of
a thousand stars,

an endless garden
in the rain.

It always takes
a while,

and I cannot
stop needing,

for she is
here now,

and I still cannot
believe.

#love
Continue reading...
Oct 2024 · 175
Mosaic
aviisevil Oct 2024
Mosaic

I saw her
in pieces—

red, blue, and
green,

sharp and
timid,

confused and
swollen,

her red eyes
begging for
something—

anything,
anyone,

just the
one.

Simple things,
simpler times.

Such is the
world—

unfair and
rotten,

too much,
too little—

everything,
nothing.

Circling the
autumn,

winter in her
bones,

the summer in
her smile,

the spring in
her step.

I have seen
the ocean in
her eyes,

the naked sky
in her breath,

the strength in
her arms

to carry the
heaviest of scars—

to be someone
for something,

to be something
for someone.

The little world
inside her head

wanting to be
free—

but she knows
not

She is of that
world—

the last of
her kind,

the pieces that
won't fit—

unfinished,

untamed,

more than the sum
of her scars—

wild and unbroken,

her colors
her own—

perfect.

To my dearest friend, Bushra.
Continue reading...
Sep 2024 · 767
the last of my kind
aviisevil Sep 2024
the last of my kind

I cried
yesterday

and what little
was buried inside

got out—

spilled all over
the floor,

flooding the walls,
the windows,
and the doors,
dripping from tables,
chairs,
and pillows

at my feet.

And how I stood
there in silence,

hearing the clock
tick and talk,

waiting for
someone—
anyone—

to come and
save me.

It's only been
thirty years.


Continue reading...
Sep 2024 · 751
tri kuta
aviisevil Sep 2024
tri kuta

the last of me

watching the
sun set

orange and red
and pink

the ***** of the
summer

the scent of an
old city

an eight year
old boy

watching the
sun rise

the last of him

the last of many
things

eyes wide open


#hurt
Continue reading...
Aug 2024 · 252
what it takes to make a man
aviisevil Aug 2024
what it takes to make a man

tired men
weak minds

traveling in
circles

collecting
venom in their
hearts

to spit out the
darkness

in arms of a
woman

talking about
their kingdom

armies of
the world

the great battle
in making

of thoughts of
violence

how it all
ends

#world #life
Continue reading...
Jul 2024 · 263
Atomic Addictions
aviisevil Jul 2024
Atomic Addictions

Violent thoughts
circle the carcass,

like the vultures
in my dreams,

dancing on the
naked grass,

feasting on the
spoils of sorrow,

ever hungry for the
fading conscience,

uncovering rules
of my addiction.

I have lost the will
to wake up and be
conscious.

Snow-clad isms
are melting,

preying on the
headless corpses.

Fractured flesh
infects the grieving
scriptures.

At last, the storms
have come to collect
the forest,

but they won’t
come and listen.

Potent remedies
bury the silences,

sowed in bones—
lessons of religion

of the man
burning in the
distance.

He’s been cut
with precision,

his toothless grin
battling sciences.

I can see the sun
set in his eyes;

he’d rather sleep
until the end of the
world.

#life #dark #people
Continue reading...
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