Staying Awake

A yawn stretches itself
From the inside out
Withholding tension
That sits crooked
Within the bones;
It’s the most peculiar sensation—
Wanting to exhale
The weight of lethargy
And its residual tangles
Yet it remains stuck
As if in a vacuum
Roaming with a palpable shift
Behind eyes
Already burning from the need
To drift closed
In a forbidden sleep
That only grows
With the momentum
Of an ebbing and flowing stillness–
Monotonous sighs of the day
That make it harder
To stay awake


An existence
Attached to pinprick perforations;
Blunted imprints and scabbed divots
Sealing off memories –
Dark figures roaming stone-walled chambers
Shrouded in the forgotten colors
Of adolescence
Masking itself
In nonchalant shades of grey
Because it’s better this way…
Distanced from the blemishes
Hid beneath long sleeves
And pretty fabrics
Without being fettered
To the ‘why’ they’re there
To touch them
With aloof interest
Without scratching beneath the skin
Of buried trauma
In unintended discovery
Unleashing agonies that bleed
Than every macabre hue
It’s better to remember nothing
Except these moments
As cherry blossoms
softly carpet the sunbaked asphalt…

One Night Stand

As love escapes

The twilit tangles

Sweet dreams unfurl

To shatter on dawn’s

Gilded edge

He turns to find himself


Tangled sheets

Sillage of liquor

And sated lust

Stirring hazed recollections


With only stale tastes

Of passion

Stuck to the roof of his mouth

And a distant ebb and flow

Of heated promises

That never breached the shore

Of a fleeting infatuation

A Midnight Wish

Mystery murmurs 
Low and resonant – 
Its strange cadence 
Plucks into the stillness 
Like a poltergeist;
Presence betrayed 
By shuddering walls 
And their heaving sighs 
As though burdened 
By tales they’d eagerly share 
If only they could talk 
But those stories remain 
Teasing whispers 
Behind wooden beams 
Where she wishes 
She could stuff her doubts 
For only a moment 
Of unbruised peace and quiet 

A Quiet Comfort

Like watching breath in motion 
The calligrapher inks the beginnings 
of a quiet soul 
Upon fine parchment; 
A soft inhale suspends itself 
Following his careful pause 
Then pools out – measured and slow 
As each brushstroke 
contours and connects 
to a heart of emotions 
that become tangible 
A lifeline immortalized 
For all the things 
Left unsaid; 
For the anxious thoughts 
Pressed between quivering lips 
Offering comfort 
To the ones 
Trapped within the tangles 
of their own mind 

Without End

Calendar pages flutter through the wind 
Another year twists its limbs 
In a dance that is quickly forgotten 
As it grows more distant  
A glimmering speck 
At the threshold of time 
That continues in its unbroken way— 
Solemn and impartial— 
While some will its hands 
To reset to their desires; 
Resolutions gathered 
In an abundance of wishes and prayers 
Between hands, lips and hearts 
Eager to carve boundless paths 
Where the life-giving pulse of fate  
Without end. 


Happy New Year everyone ❤

The Curious You

You seemed a creation  
of waves and sand; 
The way your skin glittered 
in opalescent winks 
Under the aureate sun  
You spoke the language 
of the sea’s deep groanings 
That only seagulls could pacify 
Seashells hugged your neck 
Like the finest pearls 
And your moss-green eyes 
held a mysterious depth 
that rivalled the ocean’s; 
Pools I could drown in 
without fear of an unknown Leviathan 
crushing my body in its descent. 
We could not understand each other— 
Perhaps you were only a figment  
of my sun-soaked imagination 
But all I felt 
Breathing your salted fragrance 
Was peace; 
Quiet and free.  

I want to give a shoutout to Happy Panda. I think this piece was inspired by your comment on my last post, which was so encouraging. It made me realize even if my writing doesn’t sound “perfect”, as long as I still enjoy doing it, that’s all that matters. Thank you for being awesome and I wish you all the happiness ❤

The Grim Reaper

The crows have gathered

Wreathing across the grey sky

Swollen with grief 

Before descending the crooked limbs 

Of an old oak;

Bending their heads

In solemn piety 

For the grim reaper

Approaching with the shadows;

Unseen to the natural eye

Hooded cloak draping

Grass blades tipped in crimson

Bearing memory

Of the place where she died;

A wraith roaming the shade

Wild daisies kissing at her feet

But without preamble

His scythe tears apart

Her gossamer soul

And she screams through

An imagined agony

Fighting to keep

The familiar burden 

Of spilled emotions 

Until she realizes

She is finally free…