the birds chirp in the distance
the sun glows bright
in the cerulean sky
no clouds in sight
just sunshine
beating down on your skin
sweat trickles down your brow
a slight breeze
sways the grass
around your ankles

We move through the night,
though the streets seem empty,
we look left and right,
electric vehicles are stealthy.

As we exercise stepwise, sunrise happens.
and black night fades its cover.
Like phoresy, painted, pieces of heaven,
the day opens with primary colors—
reds that delight, oranges that tease
and peacocking yellows that leaven.

As the counterfeit rainbow enchants and rouses,
streetlights waver and douse,
lights flicker on in houses,
and the earth blossoms active in borrowed hues.

Morning twinkles with its particular, angular light,
as we enter the still still lobby.
They’ve already set out the coffee!
With a sip, I feel the morning's started right.
.
.
Songs for this:
Day Tripper by MonaLisa Twins
Our Day Will Come by Amy Winehouse

We talk about the
past like it's a
movie we
watched together.
You liked the
cinematography.
I didn't care for the
cruelty of the
protagonist.

We disagree on the
theme, and every
scene holds different
aspects of
symbolism for us.
I'm not sure I want
there to be a sequel,
despite the good
acting.

the night pressed in,
heavy and mean,
the way it always does
when you’re sober long enough
to feel everything you’ve been running from.

i sat in the kitchen,
a cigarette burning in the ashtray,
the smoke curling up
like the ghosts of all the things
i used to believe in.

there was a cockroach on the floor,
big, slow,
moving like it had seen worse days than me.
i thought about smashing it,
about what it must be like
to live your whole life
dodging shoes and poison
and still keep going.

but instead,
i opened the window,
watched it crawl out into the night.
then i crushed the cigarette,
and thought:
maybe that’s all there is—
just figuring out
who’s worth saving.
and hoping someday,
it’s you.

Slices like its margarine,
not stodgy like its butter
They know we like it warmer,
So they exploit us much colder
I wish my limbs weren't wooden
like fleeing a fierce dungeon,
There's no oil in the engine
If though, it would only spatter.
The punishment,
I wish not to reave
wish not for belief.
Silent sadness regret,
a river of flowing trespass.
I get eaten,
every sun-day at mass.

I smell rain and wet pavement
and sun
As I dance and I float
and I run
I hear laughter and cries
and song
As the sky’s colors bleed
into dawn
I watch as purples and pinks
fade away
As calm blue settles
over the day
I feel fresh air and dirt
underneath
As the spring I’ve so missed
breaks through the trees
I taste sweet berries and love
on my tongue
As freedom and bliss burn through me
like ***

the lockers rife with clowns and the frittering of time as the ***** boys got ready to work their ***** minds down at the ***** factory and boast about ***** things too often degrading and unkind.

I tried to stay out of it
until one officious co-worker
had the gall to ask,
“what’s your preference in women?”

whereby, my response was,

“I see my women like flavors;
white women are too bland,
black women are too flavorful and
Indian women are a bit over-seasoned.
you need the right amount of spice.
Latina women got it but they cheat
so, I’d have to go with Asian women.
they’re perfection is unmatched.”

laughter emerged and rumbled
down the grey factory walls
where the metal tin roof had rattled,
the ***** air pervaded with rust and tears
and a mouthful of peanuts were spat onto a grimy floor

they laughed and kept on laughing
until their bellies burst

never have they heard such
a response like that before

and I just went back to work,
treading in the depths of my own conviction,
not really seeing why I wasn’t
being taken so
seriously.

I would give my life,
over and over,
if it meant you would still be here.

Ping
4 unread messages from contact: Cookie Monster

Ping ping
173 unread messages from group chat: cat gang

Ping ping ping ping
392 unread messages from group chat: secret society

I'm drowning
In the words
Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch
Shutting down...

Mute chats?
Yes
Mark all as read?
Yes

Click

I don't know if soulmates are real

But even if I wasn't born to be your match

I'd like to spend forever molding my soul to fit yours

i wish i never put
you
in my journal
because the thought of
you
is so cringey,
that i didn't even want to open it.

I comfort you like rain cradles the thirsty earth,
I kiss you like the sunset melts into the ocean’s embrace,
And I would die with you, like a flame fading into the wind—without regret.

Thanks for the brilliant rainbow that you sent me last night
Bright and vibrant colors
You were saying Hello and the tears flowed in our car
You know I hate Fathers' Day
Will wish your son- in law and your grandsons - in law
You have two great great grandsons and great granddaughter now
Please watch over them with Mom
Along with all of us
Can't spoil or wish you a great day
You left us long ago but still broken hearted
Fifteen and twelve year old girls in our hearts and minds
Just know that we love you and miss you.
Saw the Zebra butterfly earlier.
Thanks for accompanying me on my walk
I am still Daddy's girl

Not really thoughtful
I smelled it in the air
It made me wonder
Am I a burden or bare
Problematic and scared
No thought or care
Or do I not have to pause
During a moment of fear

Where have all the flowers gone

where have all the flowers gone

to adorn the graves of warriors gone

where have all the flowers gone

To the lonely  to be along

where have all the flowers gone

in heaven forever young never torn

Where have all the flowers gone

to the polluted land of ours to mourn

where have all the flowers gone

To give to a girl a smile to be born

where have all the flowers gone

To be ever a fragrance lingering along

Where have all the flowers gone

To bring peace to lives in war torn

Where have all the flowers gone

To say a prayer for a joyous morn

Pavin

I don’t wish for you
to fade like footprints in the tide,
to vanish like whispers in the wind,
or drift away like a ghost at dawn.

I don’t want to forget.
I want to sense you—even from afar,
to feel the hush of your presence near,
to know your soul
still dances with mine
in quiet, invisible threads
that time cannot sever.

born in the artic snow
she chromed
her heart
in steel

flames could
not
touch that heart

always a half a step ahead
sure
a few stumbles
but never a fall

and moonlight is just
a heartache in disquise

till one day
leaning out a car window
a scar upon his cheek
and the luck of the draw

was the jack of hearts

and the queen of diamonds
had
never met
anyone
quite like

the jack

of hearts,

black-haired blue-eyed
her beauty inspired
stupid men
to commit foolish acts

and as he smiled
the queen of diamonds
thought she had

the jack of hearts,

blue sky shimmering
in her eyes

jack became
the brightness
of her day

and the jack of hearts
saw a flame
flickering in her eyes
that he had never seen
in any women's eyes
before ...
                
               act. 2

... a strange destiny
was unraveling
and one long poker hand
was over
and the snowflakes came
down like ashes
under the street light

and then
the jack of hearts
walked away

a pale spirit fleeing
a graveyard
into the wall of night

and the queen of diamonds
cried

the sea into sky

with eyes
like twilight
waiting

to eat away the day

The best advice that I have
Is that it's best you don't look back
Keep sharp both your heart and mind
On the path that's straight ahead

Do not waste your precious time
Wobbling from side to side
If you always do what's right
Things will go good in your life

These lips are here for you to read
Won't you please pay me heed
A promise here for you to keep
You from wandering in too deep

Keeping both your heart and mind
On the sign of the times
Telling you what lays ahead
If you do your best and don't look back

a hum in the head of the moon

a word in the wash of the stars

heard well above the din
brightly poured forth

red roaring light
in one last lunge

and done

a part           of yourself
apart            from yourself

dusted away
once upon a shelf

Everyday
New ways
Better days
Helpful ways
Much too say
Heat is on

You're poison dressed in lover's skin,
A saint outside, a sin within.
Each time I try to walk away,
You pull me close with words that play.

I drank your lies like sacred wine,
And told myself that you were mine.
But every kiss, a sinking stone—
I drown in you, and die alone.

So take what's left—my breath, my will,
Your silence fits me softer still.
If I must die to feel your bliss,
Then let me fade in serpent's kiss.

It was never luck
It was written
With purpose
With love
And with unstoppable grace.

my head on your breast
my hand on your inner thigh
then my eyes opened

"Am I worth of love?
The true, romantic one.
If I even know what that is.
I can't make out difference sometimes.
Do I like them?
Or just the comfort of given friendship?
I don’t know what to feel.

Do I deserve love?
I must, right?
Despite the bad things I've done.

Take my hand,
Don't ask too much.
Let me talk.
Pull me away
To kiss me in a corner.
Or do it right now.

Friends or more?
I don't know what it is.
Please tell me what it is,
And my heart'll be mine?"

A.V.

If trust is a piece of paper tied to a rock thrown in the ocean,

I am the waves pulling it down.

Each futile attempt at grabbing the rock goes unnoticed.

The waves only priority is to keep the ocean on it's current.

Despite rain or hail,

sunshine or gale,

the waves continue on it's endless journey.

If one is forced into a role for eternity, wouldn't the job consume you?

Wouldn't the role become a second nature?

The waves,

constantly pulling and pushing,

never once staying still.

Why wouldn't the waves want to stay still? Isn't staying still easier than constantly using that energy?

Day in and day out,

every attempt at solace goes unnoticed.

Why?

The waves,

constantly on the move,

a second nature.

If trust is a piece of paper tied to a rock and thrown in the ocean,

I am the waves pulling it down.

Desperate attempts at pulling the rock goes unnoticed,

it's become a second nature.

There is no time now
For poetry and flowers
We fight for freedom
We fight for the right to live
In a world of boundless love

I'm addicted
To sadness

Music is better
When it makes me cry

Starring at the ceiling is better
When I hope I won't get up

Parties are more fun
When I hide my emotions

Dressing up is more exciting
When I cover my scars

Being alive is better
When I cut myself

I wish I could be happy
But I can't
So I'd rather suffer
Than feel nothing at all

It is a tragedy, so young and yet her eyes so wise,
As if she saw her world burn twice.

Cannot be mended
No one can fix it
Might as well be blended
To play games with the heart
Deserves a punishment hard
To take what was love
And simply discard
It hurts the daughters
It haunts the sons
Broken hearts
Spiritually done
The heart breaks but once
After that it's gone
Torn apart
Eternally wronged
But woe to the one
The breaker of hearts
The player of games
To hell they depart