I am
no longer
a portrait,
I am
a collage;
I am
water,
the sky
colours me
Blue,
a pinch
of vermillion
makes me
blush Red;
I am
a mimic,
a schizophrenic
accomodating
one too many
minds
in an
overwrought head.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥?

"Bury me,
in your protection."
𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥,
"Keep me
and my heart collected."
𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥,
"I will
embrace your affection,
𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐,
feel safe
wrapped in this connection."

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐...

𝗚𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

I handed you in pieces,
all my beauty and my truth.
You promised you would hold them
with love the whole way through.

𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥,
to believe
that it was 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗲.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺,
I believed
that it was 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

But for some reason, this feeling
makes me commit treason.
I cause my own bleeding
and my boundaries weaken.

This lighting's deceiving
and I'm seeking to find,
the line intervening
between you and I.
But it's gone to the night.
You're all that I want.
You're all that's in sight.

I don't want to escape 𝘺𝘰𝘶,
or this 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭 on my 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.

So, when you asked me...
"𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?"

𝗜 𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲.

Blinded by
this lustful yearn. I'd,
never seen eyes that
didn't fear me first. I'd,
never met a mouth
so pretty as yours.

Craving the flavour,
the taste of my curves.
Seeking to savour
the twists and the turns,
of 𝘮𝘺 body, 𝘮𝘺 kiss,
and 𝘮𝘺 tongue.

My 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻 and my 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀
to you I'd serve.

All I can do is
𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙘𝙪𝙢𝙗.

𝘐𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵...

I forgot just where
my mind went. I'd,
misplaced and lost
the sentiment, that
centres me
in these,
elements. The,
intensity
is relevant
to the detriment
of my disconnect
to the self I sense.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐...

𝗟𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 I know is true.

When you asked for me,
I gave you 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 than you could 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘸.

And I wanted you to swallow it, 𝙩𝙤𝙤.

But the problem is...
All this complicated
**** you say
I regurgitated,
is a result of how
intoxicated
I am from always
accomodating
a level of love
approximated. I,
never know if I'm
dominated, or
if this loves
consolidated, and

all I did,
was 𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 this...

Slowly losing you. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴...
Never finding truth...
Never knowing what you do.

Giving me a piece,
and then taking back two.

Pushing and pulling
in and out of my view.
Raining down sentiments
that keep me confused.

I can't find my way
in the dark of the moon.
Can't locate your love
in this light, misconstrued.

As I pick up the pieces
you dont care to lose,
I start to 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 if 𝗜
can 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝...

And thats when I lost me.
𝙄 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙬.

Tumbling backwards
to a past I once knew,
of cyclical madness
and embedded abuse.

In madness and lament,
I'm fully consumed.
My 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 meets the 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵,
and I act like a 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗹.

𝘈𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,
looking right 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵.

𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯.

On this trail I'm left lost in...
When you leave - it turns to 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀.

...

I wish you hadn't held my hand,
telling me about your youth.
Carving our names in the sand,
only not to pursue.

I wish you wouldn't say name,
when you look at the moon.
Whispering melodies
in a deviant tune.

For I am 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥
by the dance of your mouth,
as it makes your words move
in the night, all throughout.

But I can't be confused
by the beautiful sounds
of a 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦...
Of a song, 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘁 and 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱.

So this, I return.
For my heart, I must choose:
to 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁 or to 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻,
or to let myself  𝗯 𝗹 𝗼 𝗼 𝗺 .

     𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴,
     𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.

So, I've sealed this in 𝘄𝗮𝘅,
    
     and sent it
𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸  
     to   the   𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗻  .


▪︎ mica light ▪︎

We were star-crossed lovers
With stars completely faded
Upon the pellucid canvas
From hearts barricaded.

We were crossed lovers
Anger emanated from our soul
Clouded coils created catastrophe
preventing us to be complete wholes.

We were lovers
Pain and misplaced anger dissipated
by trust and words exchanged
Accomodating the memories created.

We loved.
Loved like a love created above the skies
Stronger than any weightlifting olympiad
We shared a loving bond unbreakable by lies.

We love,
The way a bee loves collecting honey
With love coursing through our veins
We love, like the sun loves being called sunny.

at this time of night
a question of wine
knows the answer
despite no enquiry
the show must go on
accomodating misunderstandings
improvised proceedings
when your glass gets to
low tide and having eyed
half a bottle still waiting
just one more
change of channel
to an athlete changing essence
visiting a vineyard to
taste other flavours

The Womb:
Accomodating him for nine months,
Reduced to a hotel room.
A room most safe to live in,
During the formative years.
The significance of a Mother,
Now reduced to a Being:
Just a Living Being.
What transformed him,
After twenty-two years?
Is it the Money or the Status,
Or the obsession with his Beloved?
The secret resides in his Heart.