I am not real
I am only an illusion
Perhaps that's confusion

Imagine such a dilemma
All the Time believing
Yet a thought can be deceiving

Existence is subjective
This ink that you see
Isn't really me

So why be concerned
No need to discern  
Give no thought to agree...

This really isn't me.

Poetry *****!
It shows my vulnerability!
It shows my compassion,  my understanding.

Poetry *****!
It let's others like you know I am human.
It shows you I'm sensitive,
And come with not only my arms, but also my defenses down.

Poetry *****!
Even at my weakest times,
Even while completely open.
My strengths shine through,
Showing my real side,
Darkness and light, that I just can't subside.

We do not choose our lives,
Nor can we change our lives.
-at times
We can learn to accept our lives,
Take responsibility for - our lives.
Then live our lives,
To their fullest capabilities,
For life.

I see it in
         shades of
liquid coal
  slaking
    my aching
           thirst in
black ocean shoal
      onyx crystals
             washed up
            in tides
       of barely
    peeking,
night-lava eyes
     silently spoken
                   and through
     the waters of deep
my soul is
    waking up from
          eons of sleep
              weaving garlands
             of darkest green,
            seaweed tips
that I tenderly keep
       strewn, in chlorophyll strips  
                      across the stardust glow
                                       of my naked skin
                                     as I liquid float,
                       spirit whirring within
                              eyes bright
                in illuminated
          moonstone glow
picking up signals
of halted flow
This is needed here,
in this darkest of dark
waters abundant
with tight, broken sparks
shards of the living
and fragments of souls
                  a luminosity of darkness
                  making us whole
      And pulsing next to me
   in beauty's surprise
phosphorescent creatures,
     a feast for the eyes
           loving, gently brushing
                my outstretched fingers-
                     bioluminescence divine
                         on my body lingers
                   from jellies to squid
                to jet -hued sharks
    knifing through layers          
     of dark on dark
         within the
lush waters' quiet force
a dance in faded flicker
conjures the source
                 within the depth
                         of the depths
                            of my endlessly
                            wet
          in my darkest of dark
between blood and sweat
penetrating the mysteries
   that quake through
          this heart
         filling it up
  as it tears it apart
         smashing it
    to smithereens
   creating sutures
   of ironic healing
until through the cracks
both wide and slight
        shoots up
the flare
of my own
    inner
          light

Somewhere there’s a boy wishing on dead stars and lost dreams and he knows this but he keeps doing it anyway. Somewhere there’s a girl sitting by the ocean, tears in her eyes, waiting for him to finally find the note she left under the promise ring he gave her two months ago, and come save her. She’ll eventually let the tides take her and she’ll become a part of the ocean, lost in between continents, while he is somewhere up in the sky, lost in between the stars that no longer shine, wondering if she might accept the expensive diamond ring in a velvet box he worked his whole life to afford.

Since you kissed me I have lost everything to you. Those scarlet lips was carved beautifully; your brown eyes and its exquisite complexion captivates me; and your voice lit up something inside me

I am astonished by your beauty, like an art
Everything that you say inspires me, like a spell
I want all of you only for myself, like an egoist

I wonder if my eyes are too naïve sometimes
You kept saying that you are not good enough; you are not pretty, and you are not just the way I see you.
You know I am just happy to see you—feel insecure
With that I could have you
All for my self

When winds at night on windows roar
wax runs out dies candle's flame
you would hear a knock upon door
a familiar voice calling your name.

Don't respond nor open the eyes
the voice is keen over winds' howl
grows it louder its pitches rise
scaring even the brave barn owl.

Pull the blanket up your head
you are safe so long you hide
lie dead quiet not move on bed
with mom asleep by your side.

Between the pause your fears mount
if is a chance to be found out
one two three the calls you count
but count it right leave no doubt.

Three times the voice would call your name
for it has no power to do any more
but move onto where dies a candle's flame
and a child is awake behind closed door.