My mind holds the weight of
Long sleepless nights.
Each night I
Wait there to be taken,
By the space between the blinks,
Into colours i can only
Hope to think
I could imagine,
Where life is more, and
Where sleep is less
Than a reprieve.
Blacklit Sky
Iam ridiculously jealous at the moments
you give to her instead of me
and that
your hand will never reach mine
except through
my mind
my shadow and yours
collide
not by chance
but by some forgotten vow
etched in stardust
and sealed in sleep
our eyes look up the same sky
over and over again
untill the orbs meet
for the first time
as if the heavens are tired
of holding our longing
my velvet fire embers
and your hues of ocean
dancing across the sky
that never noticed
between the void
and the constellations
above the world
entwined
for a lifetime
so soft it hurts
She believes she knows my ache,
she thinks she understands my sorrow,
because once, she too was broken.
My pain is
a slow implosion,
a daily funeral
with no mourners,
a storm I must swallow
so she may walk beneath clear skies.
She remains with another,
while I cradle her chaos in the dark,
I try hold her world steady,
bleeding in silence,
so she never sees the stain.
Quietly tearing at the seams
just to keep her whole.
I laugh when I want to scream.
I smile so she can cry.
I disappear so she can shine.
And each day,
I wake inside a coffin
just to hold her hand.
This doesn't feel like love.
This is a man burning
so she may feel warm,
and never knowing
that the smoke
is me.
-Cyrus K.
2 April, 1937 Letters to Véra by Vladimir Nabokov
“One smile can start a friendship. One word can end a fight. One look can save a relationship. One person can change your life.”
— Unknown
The flowers inside of me are withering,
Blues, pinks, and purples—
All fading away.
Where did the time go?
I’ve watered the garden within me,
Ive been vigilant.
So why?
Tell me why the colors are vanishing,
Tell me why I am fading away,
And listen before I go.
Tell me of the times I was vibrant inside,
Remind me of my favorite songs,
And all I used to be infatuated with.
Plant a new garden inside of me,
This time, you can have the seeds
And the watering can.
For I do not trust myself with them anymore.
I wish for bluebells
And lilac petals this last time around,
Then I will finally be able to rest.
The roofs shackled deep,
Far below the spires of the churches
That not a soul wanders into
For fear of being seen and accosted.
The roofs shackled deep,
In the pockets of the pictures
That crop up on midnight lights
Every half year or so.
The roofs shackled deep,
And then held out of reach
Because blood is thicker than water
And both are bought to let.
Reap torn bodies with a bare hand
Because we'd all do it if we can,
There are those, and there's me
And then the crop of the land.
The World’s Poorest President: José Mujica’s Inspiring Story #motivation…
There are great selfless people in our world.