I'm still choking on the ashes of your disappointment,
And I'm still reenacting scenes from the grave,
And I wish I could take a step into your mind
To fathom what firing synapses are urging you to consider

What do you think about on late nights?
Do you think about airports and silent drives?
Do you think about beautiful lakes and perfect heartache?

I've been digging graves for every single "I love you"
And I'm running out of eulogies

These poems are an extension of me,
A pressure valve to keep my mind from exploding,
These poems are sieves catching grotesqueries
To be turned into something palatable

Poetry somehow doesn't pop without pain,
Somehow inadequate without lurking demons
Fueling passion and longing and fury

These cataclysms are documented and catalogued,
These emotions and stories memorialized,
Their existence in the world a fossil record
Of memories too precious to lose

We can either hate or admire
the people who have the talent we don't.


F.Z.**N

I have dreams that I once was
A free majestic albino peacock,
Jewellery trapped under a rock.
I have dreams that I never was.

I have dreams  that I once was
An old tree covered in snow,
Winds that took an eastern blow.
I have dreams that I never was.

I have dreams that I once was
A poor little drowning fish,
A silver ring left to tarnish.
I have dreams that I never was.

I have dreams that I once was
A lot of things and one thing,
But I never was anything.
I have dreams that I once was.


--Watercolour

I found us
And I killed us.

I shouldn't have.


-- Watercolour

In the shadow of these city life
your shine gets dimmer
and your beauty seems duller.

In the midst of these city lights
your nothing but a shadow who
follows
the mundane rules
neglecting you dream
to create.

I love your lips when,
They are still wet with the taste of mine;
My dear I love your skin,
When you and I are intertwined.

I love your bright eyes,
Full of passionate fire.
And the way you light up my skies
At your simplest desire.

A tender love is not for me.
I do not want chocolate or flowers.
I need my own dead sea,
Who can keep me afloat for hours.

I love you and your fiery heart.
My dear, when can our eternity start?

I'm so tired,
So tired of it all.

I'm tired of the sadness and tears;
Of the loneliness and despair,
Of the constant silence and emptiness.

I'm tired of the fear and darkness;
Of the memories that crawl through my mind,
Of the shame and terror they inspire.

I'm tired of the lies and pretending;
Of the words that leave my mouth,
Of the false "I'm fine" phrases.

I'm so tired,
So tired of it all.

I'm tired of the worries and stress;
Of the horrible scenarios,
Of the amazing scenarios.

I'm tired of the headaches and pain;
Of the emotions cartwheeling around,
Of the spiritual and emotional drain.

I'm tired of the heartache and failure;
Of the feeling of never being enough,
Of the quiet before it all hits.

I'm so tired,
So tired of it all.

Autumn comes when my sadness
Arrived like a cold blanket
Of leaves,
The fleeting sun with short days
And rainy sessions of music
Too melancholic to feel
Any ray of sunshine.....

But I like my pain,
It holds firm to memories
That tie it all together,
The glow of a quarter moon
On my drowning lips speaking
The way I used to hold you,
The way you wore me like
A robe folding every curve
Around me:
How much the depths of my soul
Want to see you in a certain
Light, passing me even as air,
Yes,
The pain with final skies
Which calls for anguish in a flowering
Darkness leaving me
Nostalgic and scattered,
Yes,
I like my pain,
That is how I know it was real.

the day
when even the not so faithful
were tempted to pray
for the health of the nation

My heart fell
from the sky
down to the
darkness
it fall.

Now i got used
to not seeing
much of
anything
despite
the dimness
of the faint light
i still have.

I'd hang a dreamcatcher above my bed,
If I thought it would keep you out of my head.
Because I've wondered, since age eighteen,
About all the things that might have been.
Unsure, I have tread lightly,
Though your lips haunt me nightly.
I awake, hopeful but unsure,
That I crossed your mind the night before.
And I am haunted by how real your lips seem,
Because I know you are just a dream.
I'd hang a dreamcatcher above my bed
If I thought it would keep you out of my head.