A broken heart and seering pain bring words carved of gold and dripping in honey. To attain true art one must either die for it or lose a soul, as the cost of worthless beauty is everything and nothing at all. I hope you know I died for you.

My brain is a wooden ship
rotting from the outside in.
Till termites chew and tare
leaving more holes then I know
that grow and leak more than words.

I lose nouns and verbs,
more than adjective and adverbs.
Conversations are lost.
All experiences
pleasant and painful
average or terrible
are obscured.

Faces and names slip away
Sinking to the bottom
Of this opaque ocean brain
Then life lets the rushing waves
of time take everything
farther and faster away.

Is it just me.
when I see
strangers crying
frequently
I tear up to?

Oh dear mind of mine,
Are you really mine?
Are you really connected
To my bones?
Are you really a part of
Myself?
Can't you hear my heart?
Screaming his name,
Everytime you bring us
A picture of himself,
Didn't you get the memo?
Where we left very clear,
That it was for our safety,
To not overthink his face,
Leave his smell locked out,
But here you are,
What a traitor,
Our heart skipped a beat
And now can't stop crying
All because,
You are thinking on your own,
Oh dear mind of mine,
Just spare me one,
Let me live with no regret,
With no sorrow
And no heartache.

Black circles darken my eye.
There are notes to play,
but my vocal cords are cut,
and I am drowning in
a steaming pile of
my own guts.

we taught each other
to enjoy
a lingering kiss
   soft touches
     loving glances
the built-up tension unreleased
    but in secret solitude
       at night
a yearning for fulfilment
   never to be granted
as we moved out of school
and into different lives

I saw her last
only a few years after
  alarmed by news from mutual friends
two days before her death

she did not recognize me
   any more
as I stood terrified
beside her bed
in a secluded section
of the cancer ward

I had arrived too late

my loving stutter
   already out of reach
her blindly searching gaze
passed on through me

it hurt
like nothing else before

I cried my grief out
in long sobbing nights
yet still not long enough
to heal the pain
nestling since then
   quietly
in thinly calloused
wrinkles of my heart

            * *