All you have to
do is plunge yourself
in the intriguing mass
of water, then hold your
breath as perpetual
as possible. Your
body becomes
weightless in the
mist of the exquisite
sea. Worries do not
subsequent after
you, impediments
of sorrow are drained
from your pitless
ears and blemishes
become purified
from your parched
skin. When you
are weightless
in the sea
-sole and confined
in yourself-
you are flawless.

Hanging by a thread
on the rings of
Jupiter isn’t so
ghastly when you have
swarms of shooting
stars fluttering above
your head and you
get to have the
opportunity to
watch them from
afar burst of gases,
matter and atoms
into polychromatic
speckles of dust
floating into the
infinite depths
of another universe.

I could have
fallen in love
with a mysterious
poet or painter,
finding myself lost
their enchanting words
or marvelous portraits,
but instead, I got
entangled in your
awkward yet seductive
hesitation of confidence
that always painted
roses on to my cheeks
and inspired me to
write innocent words
with ripe ink that no
poet or painter could
ever cease to do.

I concede that
I am a mess. I am a
massive pile of
insecurities, despondence
and cigarette ashes.
I cannot apologize for
the squalor, all I can do
is clean it up
as best as I can
because I like you
that much.
I like you
too much.

You should be here with
me in this voided
hemisphere beneath the
blanket of stars. They’re
shimmering off excess
star dust and they fall
down in specks of azure
and violet as if heaven wants
to come and visit. You
should be embracing me
with your tender arms,
shielding me from harms
way, making sure I’m
secure and safe in case the
stars somehow gained gravity
and came crashing down
on to the Earth. You should
be treading your tongue in
the hollows be hide my
lips, collecting my vapid
saliva white shooting
stars glide across the
sky. You should be
here with me,
but you’re not.

Stop.

You can’t keep
treading your approximate
hands full of lust upon my skin
when your dulcet eyes
gazing upon my face
are full of love

You Are To Blame

My skin is decaying
to the bone,
My limbs are
broken and useless,
My voice is
hoarse- it's barely
a whisper,
My senses
have failed,
I am weak and
it's all your fault.