Seen 1:55am

That’s the thing; 

I nurse pain like how
You could’ve embrace me
Until life had escaped
From my wrists.

Blades sharpened by the past
became my bow,
Fitting four strings into
One row,
Or column,
Those blues and reds that
Mapped my insides
To where it hurt

My broken spirit has held its
Last thread before it became
It was so thin, for a short time
I thought the world
Was plastic-like transparent,
Shiny but unreal

The sorrow comes in waves,
Not like grapes in bunches,
Not in twos,
Not two souls lacking,
Not when He lived.

And as if life became too believable,
For once, I wished for immunity,
Where I hold nothing,
But my nakedness and solitude,
Like a baby, a bundle full of
Of sleeplessness

I want you to hold me like water.
I want to be dripping from your
Arms to your clothes,
I want you to  feel that I’m
Not ghost like how people
Walk this earth

I need you.
Truly, without lies,
You are everything that the world
Has done right,
In this moment,
And even in bitter words
Or tears,
I’d like you to be the only
Place I’d go to,
To mute the inevitable
Agony of us all.

The Voice of Reason

The ice cold shower

I needed to hear,

for my throbbing


delivered by an



pulling me from dark

waters. . .

his voice, may come as

stoic, yet soothing to my

aching wounds,

a bitter herb to heal

my fresh scars

a soul who knows me

more than I know


and with my wrongs

he made it right,

he made his words

swords for my

demons , his determination

giving me peace

that the struggle will end


Here’s to an angel

who without his light,

I would never found my

real darkness,

who his patience dulled

my thorns

making me stronger

and without