Tiger waves

With stripes written in the wilderness
Blues resting in my heart—
Writing love letters with lit matches
Leaving ashes and dust behind,
For some memento mori sprinkles, some
Death-defying love, and some high. Steaming,
I dive in an infinity revenge pool
Equalizing all my memories, by muffling them
Putting them in handcuffs, wash them under the
Rains of heavy booze and some make-up
Bruise. Paint them gray and
mute. Put some pressure on the blood,
The memory. Swimming
in abandoned hotel pools
Because I knew the owner.
My past selves, my ghosts
Join in. I always
Get to pick my drowning corner.
Holding my breaths among
Tiger waves imagined
Watch our musical
chairs float and crave
A vanilla abyss. I feed of on my
Depression and sweet hellish anxiety.
As I fly among police sirens all muffled
And shards of heart, scattered
to dig deep and deeper
Stealing dagger moves and hearts,
In yours as we collapse into each other
You become
my gravity—
gladly.

Sensitive hearts

Hard memory carved in
perfect marble
Of unreliable malleability
I have bones made up of
Dust and stars— crumbling,
Crippling anxiety made of
Guns as dark imagination
chokes me everyday to remind me
I am only human— on a hell
Called Earth—
Someday I will learn how to
Breathe on fire and live— I
Must be a sensitive
Heart, filling my grave, my drowning
Pool, one tear at a time—

Supernova mornings

I broke in a few pieces. One of
The selves stuck in a land called past— an alien land.
I could only melt for a day. I lost so many
Of my light words hoping for a better direction in
Darkness. In silence. Maybe they meant the same
Thing. I wanted to appreciate the beauty of
silence in an unbroken bridge— strong before the
collapse, the relapse— And smile erect with eyes direct
piercing,
As a ghost laser carves my soul,
Makes me some eyes.
Been through damage—
some damaged tissue I must
Have sowed in soul. All this apathy I
mistake for gray numbness.
My daylight is not saved better, just pushed
Around a lot, missing the rise
of the sun so I could miss out on life.
So in the supernova mornings,
I rely on happy pills.
Adopted blindness for a week so I don’t see
And repeat this train of thought toxic
logic shutting down
The gates of my heart.
Birthing internal tsunamis,
Implosions, a million Pompeii victims
I do not yet know.
Bodies merged with tragedy,
Carved in infinity— Just as my soul latches
Onto your cinnamon thoughts
And thoughts of you,
Only to be lit in hell.
Don’t make me surrender
To this mess by giving my crying heart
Away, in a
Cradle.
Still need some more
Aching and aging and beating to feel
Better. More of the bitter.
Regret can come later—

Heart of a corpse alive

Some pieces rest under water
We drowned our fires under screams
And shouts. I misled my mistakes
Let them drink poison and regret
Show me some part of you behind
This man feeding on it all— tell me
How I can carry this much blood
And pain in my heart— too sunken
In this burnt ocean of sugar
To take on another game of life
How many tries can I get— you
Call it all lessons and mistakes.
I run to you until you escape, then
Come running back with a
Heart with life on the line I can only
Love half-alive,
With the heart of a corpse alive
With no remorse it beats for you
Without my permission, my consent
I will love you forever and I won’t
Let anyone else in this house of
Memories—

Magritte, dancing

Gray and geometrical
The sun is upside down
Naked to burn better
Magritte is dancing
Somewhere, in paint
Dry and alive—
Crossing the borders
Of our eyes singing in
Colour—

Ghost selves in art

There was a time my dream took me on a journey
Called hyper-reality— those sculptures in Art Basel
Looked more real than my vivid dreams. That’s when I
Saw my ghost self smile at me in a flowing mirror/river—