wilted petals on bedsheets and bathrobesi was full offlowers, once.soft blossoms and awild, arcing sky thatwould have takenyour breath away.but now i amwatching thepetals of myskin swirldown the drainand thinkingabout howmy depressionis a bodilypesticide,slowly stuntingall kinds of growthuntil finally,nothing tries togrow anymore.
I Know You Hate Me Now But...I Know You Hate Me Now But...:Just give me a chance alright, I'll explainTo me, you're the girl that I notice everything about.The way you laugh, the way you smile;We got along great back then, even if we don't now.And to be honest, I miss that...You had the most lovely silky smooth hairYou'd give me the cutest anime girl smileI wish I'd talked to you more about Manga,Hell you got me started on the whole thing.You were fantastic at drawing tooMan I was always jealous of that talent,And I loved your drawings, like I once loved you.I wish that you could have been a professional.I would have bought your book every month y'know...You encouraged me to write.Back when my stories were shit,Back when my poems were still baby's rhymes.You taught me not to give in and I was grateful.Now just let me finish alright?I know that you won't speak to me.That's okay, I admit to being an ass,But the reason that I'm writing this poem to nobod
.falling in loveis like collapsingonto the groundwith daggers,blossoming from beneath.Does it makeme masochisticto want to f.a.l.l.in lovewith you,even if it meansevery time youtouch me -it feels like I'm dying.
Throwback ThursdayYou know what I miss?The simple daysOf aimless buses and trains,Like magic carpetsThat helped us to escape,If only for a little while.I miss the endless walksThat led to hours ofShopping center shenanigans--Spinning in desk chairs,Petting that little blind kitten,And reading anythingFrom cheesy joke booksTo Frost's melancholic verse.I miss cheap deli lunches,Discounted coffee house milkshakes, andMidnight conversations on the swingsAt your old elementary school,With the moon so bright thatI could see your T-shirt.Remember that time when, hot chocolate in hand,We followed the soundOf live fiesta musicSailing on the hollow winter airUntil we nearly crashedA Hispanic family's party?Or what about the momentsOf heartbroken silenceWhen we discoveredThe ruins of a pianoAt the churchThat was once your daycare?I remember climbing, barefoot,Halfway up Ricky's fenceTo watch his illegal fireworksAnd stealing Mom's carIn the dead of night,Just for store-bought C
It's The Distance, I Think.It was sitting on our kitchen counter-Brown glazed and curved, like her-Perched next to the microwave.I thought it would best holdHer spatula and my two bamboo spoons.She filled it with yellow tulips andPink carnations and hydrangea blossoms andTold me to "Get your own spoon vase"With bells in her voice andHer cheeks dimpled and her eyes crinkled,And I wrapped my arms around her waist andPunished her back-sass by tickling her ribs untilWe were a jumbled mess, strewnAcross the tile floor- with flushed cheeks andNot a worry in the world. These days, the curved brown jarSits next to my stove top andHolds my two bamboo spoons,Three of my own spatulas and a metal whisk.The tiles have been replaced with hardwoodAnd my eyes never crinkleAnd I can't remember the way hydrangeas smell.
i am trying to let you leave but ...i am trying tosay goodbye butmy soul is diggingin its heels,it is piercing myskin with its teethand it isshaking me,shaking me,shaking me.it will not let melet you go this time.
What is Love?What is Love?:What is love but a simple impulseAn electrical signal that comes from the brain.What is love but a debilitating sicknessIt weakens us utterly from the waves of pain.To what do we owe the pleasure of loveDoes it come from a matter of personal taste?To what do we owe the pain of loveAs though all of our efforts are put to waste...Why do we seek to fall in loveIs it because we fear a death alone?Or perhaps there is a darker reasonOne for which we need to atone...Rationalise carefully, your reason for lovePerhaps the truth is deeper than you think.Is your partner a genuine object of affectionOr simply a piece of the missing link?Love can be a wonderous anchorIt brings us down to the safety of sanityBut abuse it once, and you will sufferSuch is the gift of humanity..."Yet even with these weighty words, I am still a slave to love..."-Chen Yuan Wen, 25th April 2012
next thing we're touchingyou put the moon out with your cigarette as everything around you began to dim. you stirred the stars around as your body swayed against the porch lights, as you lifted the twenty-sixer to your lips.you turned to me and said, "lets show this world what we're made of."yes babylets fuckin' show them.we had our first kiss right there.-honest to god,i'm not colour-blind, i just see colourless colouri'm not starry-eyed, i just reached out and tore the sky down the middle-i still remember the salt strewned in the air as we fucked on the shore. it was one of those days where there was a lulling silence, a silence so serene it was like you weren't there. the only sound that spun down my eardrums was the slow rotation of the world and your vocal chords whispering out hoarse i love yous. your eyes drowned my vision and roared like waves passed my eyelidsthat was when i knewas our clothes stuck to our ribcagesand drops of water hugged our heartswe'd fuckin' show the
stonemaze sometimes, I pretend our home is tinnitus I scrape pine needles into a horizontal bowl. twisted scenery settling in like snow inside my finger bones, stirring up sparks. he may be the last explosive, a fire fight that bites through my palms; may be the last crackling monolith to collect spacedust on his loneliness. I should be left alone letting the passage of time sink into the corners of my eyes
Waking NightmareYeah ummm... The Poetry is the picture... Sorry Nothing to see here in the box...