A Garden of Jade Flowers

henry-be-99471
Photo by Henry Be via Unsplash

 

It’s written in the clouds
Carried by the arms of the people you love
And who loves you back
for someone who doesn’t believe in heaven
I’d like to believe you’re in the sky
Blissful as the memories we kept

It’s an ineffable turn of events
I saw you not too long ago
But even with such a few inches of space
It felt like you were years away
In our last few moments
All I said was hello
And you said my name
Exchanging smiles
Thinking I’d see you again

Few days, few weeks
And even a few years
Our last conversation was
A recollection of our lives
Since we last saw each other
Simple small talk between old friends

I still have the photographs of you
In our red and gray skirts
Smiling not knowing as days end
We would slowly drift apart
Becoming a familiar face
A “Who’s that” in a series of albums

Perhaps we’d reconnect
Have a coffee conversation
But all I can do now
Is stare at the sky
Thinking maybe heaven can exist
In the memories that I missed

Goodbye Alice (Sad Truth of Us)

tiko-giorgadze-250881
Photo by Tiko Giorgadze on Unsplash

we have an inevitable expiration date
at some point in our lives
we would part, the cause still unknown
there will come a day
where one of us has a piece of the other
sadly, one bigger than the other
it hurts knowing this fate
that we would only be memories
tucked into our subconscious
We will only be an anecdote
Part of small talk, chit-chat
and mentioned in conversations
The next few days, months
(hopefully years)
Would become recollections
We would be reminiscences of our youth
It pains me knowing that
we may never grow old together
we may never have our wedding dance
Or come home to our marital bed
They would turn into fantasies
Hypothetical situations, unimaginable scenarios
An imaginary world we built for ourselves
Hanging in disbelief of this uncertain expectation
Of this closing chapter
And that is the sad truth of us

Falling Apart and Burning

maria-38582

I am sitting in a burning room and all I can say is that I am fine. By the next few minutes, I would be buried with my ruins of my sanity. I am watching flames dance until everything becomes ashes along with my desire to live. Turned off my phone, my Wifi, and social life.  I do not need a public confession of what is spinning in my head. Even loneliness left me by midnight.

An Idiot’s Commentary

mitchel-lensink-213301

The idea of democracy
is dead
welcome to the age of idiocracy
our minds being penetrated
by ignorance
written by self-appointed
pretentious social media experts
typing statuses
that leave minds crippling
tweets saying rape isn’t heinous
isn’t considered a crime
how a woman should be thankful
that a man would fuck them
we are no longer in progress
we are walking backward
arguing ethics that are crystal clear
how are we still reading bullshit?
how are we still tolerating trolls
who live in the comments section
waiting for the next sentence
attacking the next user with a point
how can we
read such crap on our walls
vandalizing our scrolling
by then we’d have zero following
if we unfriended every stupid asshole
who says rape is sex
rape is not sex, sex is consent
no one should think rape is fine
rape is a crime
if only ignorance and stupidity is a crime
then we can put every troll in court
throw them behind bars
make this world a better place
rather than click “block”
so your timeline won’t be tarnished with their face

Cynical Hopeful

hipster-photography

It’s easy to mistake the first time as love.
Because no one finds “the one” in the first try,
if so then you are a lucky bitch.
Others have to go through hell and meet
every single asshole in the dating pool
before finally meeting the 1% of people
where there are mutual interests.
Or you can play the waiting game
and see what fate will bring you.
Maybe you said you loved me too soon,
maybe you only think you love me
because I honestly see nothing
you could love about me.
I am broken, jagged pieces
and I’m not a puzzle
you could easily piece together.
How can you love someone damaged?
You have to constantly fix me
or try to at least
and then you’ll get tired.
You will get tired of my mess;
I’m this mess of a person you chose to love.
It’s not even love, I’m sure it’s not.
I’d like to believe it’s not love
because if it was it would be short lived
and depressing.
We have an expiration date trust me,
this won’t last forever.

but I’m an idiotic optimist
believing we’re the exception

Stars, Black Holes, and Vodka

stars-sky-po

she was once a star
until she can no longer shine
she was burned out
she is now darkness
empty and trying to find fulfillment
but even light couldn’t pass through
she walks on glitter
hoping she’d sparkle once more
but she’s too broken

while he was wonderful
simply amazing and innocent
he fell in love with this black hole
he kissed her lips
even if she tasted like vodka,
nicotine and bitter regrets
she was the definition of damaged
they told him he could never fix her

she lost her jagged pieces
that once made her whole
she wasn’t a puzzle
he could easily solve
instead he saw her and said
she deserved love
He made her feel
a little less scattered

Late Night Love

cnr-blur

Tired city lights, lazy neon signs, and street lamps
people looking for bar stools, lonely eyes and a drink
Shmucks looking for love in a lust filled palace
a mix of desperate lovers and horny bastards
doing anything to get into someone’s pants
covering tanlines where wedding rings were supposed to be
There’s the lonely man walking up to the pretty girl,
his charming smile and witty pick-up lines
are compensating for his lousy skills in bed.
(that or any other tiny detail)
Then there’s the already beautiful girl trying so hard
to find her confidence in a man’s arms,
and then her insecurities will come creeping back
as soon as he leaves the next morning.