i yearn for destruction
upon the social construct that states
that love is always associated
with flowers and sunny days.
love has barely brought about
bright colors and clear skies-
all it's left me is a chaotic head
and an ear that's deaf to lies.

it is of blood red and unexpected,
in an ocean of sorrow and abhorrence
it is an illusion of improbability
in a world of utter blandness

trusting the waves to carry you out
despite being wounded in every way,
never knowing that the sharks themselves
were the ones who once promised to stay.

i think it’s best, when the sharks come by,
to just keep a supply of recollections
and a bottle of water for when the tears dry
when i swim right back to shore.

‘it’s always nighttime in prison’
they tied their feet together;
every vowel lives on
until the morning sun hithers

pages thrown to sea,
the deep blue churns recklessly
their hearts are the coldest stones
they have thrown right at me.

he would carry on his back
a piece of the burning sun
and after the ink runs out
would he escape and run

his brothers will never wait
inscriptions he made will eventually fade
horror rots upon the walls of his brain
but poetry will keep him sane.

you're the certain type of blossom
that needs no such weeding out;
even sunrises and sunsets are enthralled
to make their way into your mouth.

while there's me who doesn't hold anchors
but keeps sinking deeper into the ground;
me who lights torches into flames
only to eventually blow them out.

i figured it takes a strong heart and soul
to look forward to rainbows during a downpour,
to see the stars through the thickest brume
and to endure life like it's just an adventure.

but i simply cannot see the world as perfectly as you
because rose-colored boy, no matter what i do,
we just can't all be like you.

midnight whisperings say
'i'll take care of you'
yet morning words declare
'i don't need you'.

you hold me so gently
like a new set of china—
yet pour inside me
hot, scalding, tea.

in those symphonies lost to old memories
memories tinted the sheets red
of anger, of hatred
of love that has faded
a telling sign of regret
the bridge builds up
every step and half note gets hefty.
follow it down to a hole of separation.
bid your symphonies goodbye
even in the darkest pit - you can’t hide
the memories are to be let go,
as the refrain comes
will the sound fade out to cry;
the sorrowful moment weighs down

the sweetest part of a lullaby.

the weather confuses me

as so do you.
the way it's clear one moment
then clouded the next;
how uncertainty is thicker
than that of the brume.

constant rays of sunshine show up
from the irises of your eyes—
still, i stand my ground,
as slight drizzle falls
scattering down
from the fogged up skies.

hesitating to pour everything out.