crying hands and mystic silver hair

we sabotaged our fate we

summoned our hatred and

dispersed it into the dusted

of our past lives moon.

your bones are too heavy to make

peace with. we are making excuses

to be above our honesty; we were 

diluted with

her heirloom walks. crying hands

and mystic silver hair. not the matter

never the intent but we always spoiled

our romantics and defeated our

own heartbeats. i am magik in

us. in us i magically disappear.

written on her

vintage moon eyes and

the ancient ravishing jade

will not even hold me below this

down.

leaping forward we break our

air just to breathe in cement

walls. treason skins falling apart

and towards the same saturday skies.

i am aged in your hands and i am

fairy tailed in your closed eyes.

vintage moon eyes.

i have rolled around in your

regrets and built mannequins

in your backwards. it was

written on her and we read

what we never before saw.

apocalypse

i kiss your temple in my

temporary and black spider

eyelashes are smudged with

vein like tornados. incognito

heirloom detailed with nostalgic

typewritten paper. paper written

with me writing with your

stems.

shortened hands and sexed folded

asleep. affixed repetition and salvaged

carbon smiles; we were a once upon

a time and now we are everything

in nothingness.  lazarus effect was gone

tomorrow and is here on our

yesterday. 

rustic librarian, vintage wings

i laugh till the end and smile

through the misspelled. I have

used that in varieties; my tenderness

will turn to grey scales soon and you

will no longer hold me breathing

close. if you believe our

love than i believe our

love. see how simple that

was; i talked and you hushed

the page.  remember this always,

always remember through the

forgery; i was always your

rustic librarian held high by my

vintage wings. 

i can fall and keep falling

and i needed to see you again;

our purple spines were the last

of my freedom. cinnamon tongues

and rewritten prose were angles

taken by no other. no other

distances were broken by

the wet tunnels and suede

grandeur trees. to the again

of our lives; you were the reason

i got up to see through

the dark skies, the lit

stars the hanging moon

of my shackles’ melting

steal pain. today i can fall and

remain peaceful in the knowing.

i can fall and keep falling because

i know that i was always flying.

bamboo meditations and giving

street noise; i am falling still

flying i am falling deeper higher

lower and nowhere but here. 

freedom speeches' tomorrow

ballet rocks with stainless

tanned freckles; your eyes

will be our fairy-tale. i reckoned

your regurgitated timids and

i allowed them to dim my

skin until there were

no more stars left in our skies.

there was always more than one.

for me, it never danced alone.

you missed the congregation of

our stapled voices and we are

freedom speeches’ tomorrow.

folded eyes

crunchy skies and crying

rainbows, we all morbidly dance

in stale seas against the same

incense wall. folded eyes

teased by plastic background

windshields. all along you were

steady and i kept bleeding

violent kisses all over our

forged poem. we should not be

saddened by the truth’s fallen

tempers; we were already broken

before the pieces divorced

with unity. yet, we still cry

when our skin touches their

fearless.

ephemeral

nosferatu; radiohead.

i remember when the walls

were numbed by my silence

and pain was opening my

delicacy of wounded shoulder

blades. negative wings.

i would have disappeared in your

palms if you held them out long

enough. i keep eating out of

the same distance. i keep shrinking

in the same orbital fonts.

the slumber of wounded

sentences are why i put

a spell on you. i don’t see anymore

but i am bewildered in your

forearms and i see every smile

in their strength. smoldering

kisses teething on our ephemeral

moonlit skies. i see you.

repeating eyes; moonlight sonata

open the door;

there are troubles waiting to

say goodbye. sonogram of

my tattooed insomnia. i recognized

you from the moment you fell asleep

on my nerves. i fell in love with you

before i could feel before i could

feel before i could feel. magnolia

dreams and waking up beside you

is my drug. i am addicted to your

soul and you gave me this. this.

you gave me her.

through a stolen moonlight sonata;

you gave me her.

moon goddess

moon goddess fever disappearing

forearms and educated fairies are

all stampeding upon my abdominal

wise eyes. i am your broken wing

stubbornly awakening the

other chains. spaces between their

desires keep numbing the greenery

around my pelvic. i worked my way

upwards to black paint and collage like

guitar strings. time becomes satire

and sarcastic metal wings start to

form on my backwards spine.

and then, there was God.

no more fatigue wrapped around my

neck my veins are empty and clear

blood has flown into my knowing heart.

i don’t know who you are;

you know nothing of who i am

to become.

no more highlighted eyes

no more highlighted eyes

as no more eyes that are higher

than us lit. because we will easily

drown the black sand beach in the purple

sky hair.

goddesses awake we are celebrating our

peace we are continuing our freedom

green dances and sabotaging the bored

rebels along the way.

married to stones; we are fearless under

the civil mood, the beautiful distractions,

the omniscient prayer lovers. 

no more highlighted eyes.

rain on me

dark light

in you my artistic becomes

an affair with god. i am

this page’s monogamous lover and

it, my velvet breathed muse. i am

your forgotten golden cracked wing

and i will never be broken by

the memory again.

backwards again against the walls

of her portrayal eyes; that sleeping

beauty never disturbed me when

i was awake.

so the full of the moon

became our dark light.

a throaty wolf

departed curves and mountain

graves are manifested in her

eyes. evergreen clouds interrogating

thawed out palm prints.

through stampedes and mornings combating

my inner wilderness goddesses; i have woken.

to your breathes and the woven of us

and the paranormal into each other. 
we are a compass without any needles, 
hearts beating without salvation.

raven hunter hair and flying dove eyes;

a sigh of painless

relief and a man becomes a throaty wolf.

we are those wolves, my love. 

written;again

i am empty inside but i keep writing

because i am full off our existence

spaces. they took one line from me

and thought i was finished.

i was gloomy but i was not finished;

i am merely a windy beginning.

words on my beneath were

fading away and your potency

on my ring finger arm started

boiling fonts. our becoming

vines procrastinating our

timeless in our here and now

in our smiling destiny tableaux.

today we are written; again.

forever night

in river blood we see through

each other’s grass limbs. to the great

masses we are captivating the inner

truths your art distracted me into this

longing abyss and starry nights were

caplillaried again. frozen kisses smudged

with freedom now, freedom here.

strength lies in tomorrow and

manufactured horses

are running with brief steal walls wrapped

around their distance legs. let us go

through the masks that we already wore

on our forever night. 

fortress horses

i am your dragon inked

indigo and galileo under

the moonlit stars.

we were once melted into nothing

and flavoured with dragonflies gazing

into they abyss of our plagued canvas.

before the light goes north we will

rupture each other’s sideway

prayers to become the heavy mess

we deserve to be enlightened through.

resurrected limbs restoration

chanting and misspelled cathedrals;

portrayal of us.

fortress horses on a glued stage singing

your favorite green country song

and dancing freedom repetition.

in my eyes, we could carry the documentary

of this genocide we would fall into place

dancing melted in the foreign rain.

gilded beards and unnamed books

tethering our truths behold.

pleated skins and muscular eyes;

the same documentary eyes. 

light i saw

when it was slower and

the spaces between us did

exist we were on our cardboard

pedestals grieving the mocking

heights. darkness made me

write into you and the light i saw

at the end is why i am living off

of its’ every stroke of genius

breath. 

of choking air and

caress of closed eye'd opera;

feeling the everyday of the

capital capillaries widen our

distracting trees. now i am awake

and the stage in the dream is no longer

mate black, it is a suddenly shade of

longing for life.

because i will write about her eyes

and the glory of her togetherness.

the tree of lifeless and historic

compassion.

words are my soulmate

from what we saw, we entered

the realm of us in fair emotions

with rugged walls.
shaved off lights are coming at us strong;

heavy distances with acrobatic

skins kissing on metal shelves.

blackened sacrament twisted off

with dreams of laying awake on

your fear. we cramp outside

us and consider the rain when

we lie.

vinyl records memorized by

charcoal’s painted inspiration.

i am serving your dark studies

with my museum secrets.

i become defend by your

opaque silence; it is numbing me

into a forbidden tomorrow.

words are my soulmate and

i will, i will never let him go.

words will mean everything once

you disappear into the deepest

blue of loss. we will wander

and be forgotten; all the more

reason to live.

i am your wilderness viking

i am your wilderness viking and

substance is ridden with hazel

eyes and velvet temper.

i am your writer

your writer your writer and i

am invisible if i cant

be your nothingness sonnet.

solving the mountain shy

of dirt and hatred of

these timed inches.

with a shovel to mold

my soiled feet

and a watered ladder

to climb up with.

i am a gothic painted librarian

wondering off into the

poetry of mummified history.

walking painlessly with agricultural

tempers ;

we are aggravated in

soul dehydration. 

this is not a poem; this is a letter

dear angel of rhythm, angel of deep meditation,
my angels Zen and Laya,
all i ask of you...

i will love you unconditionally 
but all i ask of you is that you see through the eyes of all living souls in this world.
i will love you unconditionally
but all i ask of you is never intend to hurt anyone in this world.
i will love you unconditionally
but all i ask of you is to be selfless to this world.
i will love you unconditionally
but all i ask of you is to be compassionate to even those in this world, who are not compassionate to you.

i will love you unconditionally
but all i ask of you, always my love, live your truth and no one else's.

because i will immortally love this universe's world
for giving me you.
for allowing me to love you unconditionally.

all i ask of you my sweet angels, is to unconditionally love this world back and to always know this my love, know this with every step you take into this world...

i am loving you unconditionally.

where i dance

i wanted cold and bitter

and feelingless tingles down

my throats.  in devastation

my missing parts are always

brighter and i am shiny

plastic dancing on the blackest

platform closing the doors

on faithful windows.

we are yesterday and

never today. and the

sentence is always

longer at first.

in the beggining where

we are whole.

gothic library

barefoot running along green

sands of gothic library walls

i am holding a bouquet of

balloon trees; she stopped to

turn around and wave back at my

future. don’t be afraid of

my darkness because if you

look closer only than can

you hear, see, feel, be one

with my soul.  they ask, “why

the darkness in your art”?

i respond; it is my most

beautiful me, my most unedited me

you will ever see. the beautiful

decay of every day of gone

and becoming me. 

black sky architect

red hair mirrored blue eyes and

a tall dance all but one religion where

the law is reason. buildings built so close

together that pavement kisses are our

only shadows because we have forgotten

how our soul smells. delicate steal fists

are closed together without her arms

in mine. i feel stapled to this future sky. 

black sky architect.

robotic rock climbers study castles but

fall anyway to fly. i love your heart

so dream steady my little pirate fairy

for only once more will i write this.

i will write this once more.

fistful of thoughts and metal

braids are drowning my wings.

i cannot fly.

i cannot see.

i cannot hold us in my

breathing any longer. and i am lived

short in these whiplashes. grey

masks are holding us together and

we are fearless because we are

dead. we died and become afterlife

before we decided. now my hands

are dried up and the bell tolls

for ruptured skin to stand alone

no longer in beating marriage

but; alone.