I am tired.
I just want want to watch TV.
And write poems.
I want to lay by the sea.
And love someone more than me.

I wanna cry.
But I have no tears.
I want to dance.
But I have no ears.

But then, you came along.
And I realized that we are both sinners of the same kind.
Singers to the same song.
Both are pieces of a broken mind.

I loved you.
And then I hated you
in both
I was hurt.

In the ocean of your eyes
I drowned
In the warmth of your hug
I burned
In the darkness of your hair
I lost
In the whispers of your mouth
I learned what words taste like

You walked on the holy grounds of my soul
Made a joke out of my idols
And burned the altars of my Gods

You are me... if I loved myself.

You caught me with your eyes
And trapped me with your arms.
I was intoxicated by your warmth,
Addicted to your smile.

I saw your pictures, and they sent me spiraling.
My mind is stuck in a loop of you...

I lost my rhyme,
My capacity to see rhythm,
Because all the art in the world pales in contrast to you.
All the sounds are dull in the background of your voice.

I'm going crazy in poems,
Depressed in tales,
Aching in dreams,
And anemic in art.

I must confess  
I have been writing about you...  
In my hidden rhymes, I can scream.  
In my lost poems, I feel seen.  

I'm afraid to confess how much I feel.  
I'm scared to overwhelm, to isolate, and push you away.  
But these words may never find your eyes,  
hiding in these lines that I will never say.  

Saying that you stole my heart would be a lie.  
You took so much more of what is mine...  
You have my attention, my memories, and my dreams.  
Fine, you have my art, my poetry, my time.  
F*CK IT... keep my salvation, my future, my life.

I went up to a squirrel
Such a stressed creature
I asked
"What's wrong?"
For some reason he didn't answer me

she spun her tales
as she spun her silk
-net to capture the unwary

carapace dream-space
a silent echo.

If a poet fills his wounds with poetry, will his body become a masterpiece?