Dead Stars

There's something missing

like the accidental wedding ring

flushed down the toilet, hurriedly.

It feels like a whirlpool, 

like my esophagus, opening and swallowing it all

down to the black hole of my stomach

in this eternally empty corpse of mine.

You were my horizon

my ocean

my parallel.

and now

without your light

without your eyes staring at me

all I have left, is time

and I don't want it anymore.

I sold my hope

I lent my strength

I donated my love 

and I pawned my soul

and now

I just want to drown.

If I could stop chocking on my words

If I could to stop writing

If I could stop lying

for I can fight it no more.

I just want to drown

and slowly and quietly sink

into the ocean

and into the night

back to the womb
back to the beginning

so I can stab it

so I can set it on fire

but that would mean erasing my existence,
and I could never do that
what else, then? to keep you awake at night.

Self-inflicted sorrow

It still hurts
whatever I do
wherever I go
whatever the season
for no reason
it hurts.

You remain in me
like a ghost, like pain
like an unpaid loan, like yesterday
like a whistling train.

...and it hurts.

I can't breathe.
It's not that noose, that kills at breakneck speed,
but slow drowning in the tight tie knot of my daily asphyxia,

Your name aches, like a scarlet letter on me.
Not the pin prick of an expert needle and ink,
but the branding in a slow burn, all over me.

I can't drink anything other than your venom.
Not the sweet laudanum poison targeting my cerebellum
but the bitter hemlock when I bite my lips till they bleed, crying helplessly.

Crucified by memories we made.
Not the arthritic razor blades,
but the sharp thorns of all the nights without you,
knowing you're with somebody else.

Deaf to the world around me.
Not like the sudden sonic booms of jets flying to the rescue,
but the muffled, numbed echo of my voice in a velvet coffin..

Condemned to an ever repeating death sentence.
Not the quick fall of the guillotine, separating head from body
but the patient cowardice that keeps me from picking up the phone.

Fearful of what lies ahead.
not the frightening portrait of a tired future
but a life sentence in this prison of desperation, doubt and regret.

Thorns and Stubborn Marshmallows

Love isn't someone who completes you
You're complete already, just the way you are.
Love isn't the missing piece of the puzzle,
something you're lacking, or something that just "happens".
Love is, instead, something completely different.
Love is something you work on.
something you build, with somebody else.
With trust, and freedom
understanding, and dedication.
Not just a promise, but a commitment
love is the strength, and the weakness,
the friendship, the calm in the storm
the fire, the peace
in a timeless war,
love is a beacon.

56 Rivers

I can't bury the dream
I never hid it, and I won't start now.
It doesn't seem to drown in the fish tank either
so I must let it go
flow
river down.

I sat and dwelved for days
and they brought weeks
and then they brought months,
but those years afterwards
well, they showed up uninvited
I promise.

The yesterdays are still my today
sometimes,
but I've grown used to it
or so I wish,
and one must promise
or wish upon a star.
I tried to find one
hiding behind that cloudy Japanese screen
but all I found was rain
and it rained
and it rained
and I cried for you again
under a starless sky
again
and then I cried for me
and then I stood before your 56 smiles
like a mountain, I couldn't climb
like a tower
like my twisted horizons.

And the tide began to rise
and the floor began to move
and the poison promises
melting under the sun,
involuntarily venomous.

Well, here's my white flag
my rice paper sail
now folded into a little paper boat
floating swan I've set to sail
down the flow of tears it carries
river down.