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I see her in a distant place
her eyes roam
a different dream then where we are,
absently munching on her food,
and I'm looking
and contemplating,
and trying to delve
into her head for just
a fragment of time,
so I ask,
"what are you thinking?"

she startles, stops, stares...
she opens her mouth,
"I'm thinking this is really ****** pizza."
truth in the small things
He's a diary
with secrets to spare.

I'm a first draft love
letter that's trashed
half way through the
confession.
... I need to stop
Red,
Paint me red
The color of our passion, dear heart--
Until I realize you that you painted it
The color of rusty hinges.

Yellow,
Paint me yellow
Because I thought yellow was sunshine
And happy
Or maybe windswept afternoons
For dandelion wishes--
Until I saw that you painted me sickly green pale yellow, the color of hospital rooms and body fluids.

Paint me blue
A soulful sky blue,
I thought that you couldn't go wrong with blue--
But now I'm an indigo mess, very sad
Drowning--blue, I'm blue.

So paint me black
Like hateful ink
Or skies with no sun, no stars,
  I'll be a masterpiece then--
Or maybe I should've realized you're no painter, and I'm not a clean canvas anymore.
you could say my heart breaks are fueling my creative process so there's that
I thought
We could be
Something--
When I say something
I mean instead of a "hello" or "hallo"
Maybe a good morning kiss.
Or twine your bilingual tongue
To mine and make sense of all the hidden
Messages and vowels in our
Passion.
Maybe we could
Link hands on long walks
Or swim in each other's eyes
With knowing, glowing
Gazes.
I just thought we could be
Everything happy for a little while
And everything that makes smiles
As easy as learning how to say
"I love you" in our two languages--
I know you already know, but I don't know how to say it yet
I just wanted to know an "I love you"
Which isn't foreign in any language.
I just thought we could be
Together.

But I guess not.
I'm happy but not
be the rainbow
after the rainstorm--
I'll be moonlight
for your midnight
passages.
please
i.
A creature lurks in my mind, has overtaken me in some manner.

ii.
It is a creature because it is a feeling that has grown to unimaginable proportions and has developed limbs to walk around the crevices of my thoughts.

iii.
This creature is an unidentified state of dissatisfaction. It is a hungry beast and I've spent the majority of my short life trying to fill its insatiable appetite. At first, I thought its desire was human affection. I tried to find it a home that would house us both,
a heart that was big enough for us and kind enough
to let us rest and be content. This only worked for so long as each time as each fragile heart eventually fell apart and we were left to fend for ourselves.

iv.
Maybe I can't fill it with broken hearts or rebellious impulses.
Maybe--
I will never satiate its hunger.

v.
I don't know what I'm doing, I don't want to know sometimes
I embrace recklessness but I am also
direction-less, weaving intricate
patterns of distress in my skull,
this--
I can't control.

vi.

what am I even doing, what am I doing,
what do I even want, what do I do,
I feel oppressed without a clear
sign of oppression, I am
not a sheep--
I'm not to be led.

vii.


help me.
I'm not lucid.
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