the stranger at the door

you never stop
coming at the
door and looking
for me

yet
i hide because
you are becoming
a thorn in
the head.

you are
asking more and
i am giving into
your trap

but
now i realize
that all i need
to do is

to
shut you from
my real world.

 

2016

Posted in Poetry | 2 Comments

to be when things are alright

waking,
waking up in the
middle

of
the night and
knowing

that
things will be
alright.

but
what about you
and

I?
we have to get
over

this
and we have to
fix

the
only matter that
undo

us.

 

2016

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

and my heartbreak

i
drift and
dream and
fall

in
love with
someone

who
doesn’t love
me back.

i’m
hurt and
sad and
leave

the
space that
makes myself

the
sick and the
lonely.

 

2016

Posted in Poetry | 2 Comments

Memorization Of The Past

It was there.
It was indeed there.
When time reminds us.
History can be a past.
When time changes.
And everything is dynamic.
And when I was born yesterday.
The memories are clear.
They tell me meanings.
They tell me wonders.
They tell me pain.

Yet I was there too.
When I lived in the past.
I lived to witness many things.
I lived to feel many emotions.
The world, the people, the circumstances.
All became a part of the story.
They were in the past.
And I was there too.
I cannot deny what I saw.
I cannot deny what I heard.
I cannot deny what I felt.
This is the memorization of the past.

 

2016

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The Last Normal

Pivoting,
jostling and quivering,

the
hands and feet entwined.

Steadfast,
meek and gentle,

the
good gods hover.

In
the space and air,

and
Beyond what minds conceive,

the
last normal breathes,

exists
like anyone else in

this
rapture and breed.

 

2016

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Folds Of Sunset

Folds
of sunset scream
on my face.

Folds
and folds
engulfing me.

The
limitless
reflection is deity.

Two
and forever are
more and perpetual.

 

2016

Posted in Poetry | 4 Comments

I Am The Transformation Of Things

You remind me of my pain.
The scars remained on my skin.
Hate is seen in my vicinity.
There are still ghosts here.

Tragedies are heartbreaking.
They kill my happy countenance.
There are wicked games in life.
We survive when we fight back.

I came back from a shattered world.
There were days that death existed.
To live again is to love oneself.
We can be beaten by the tides and odds.

To grow as a better person
and to stand stronger are mundane.
I am the transformation of things.
Becoming something new is a miracle.

 

2016

Posted in Poetry | 3 Comments