I want to forget names,& faces,
I want to forget their veins,
fingerprints forever burned into my eyelids;
wrists I can't look at
without longing to tear apart.
Spine full, and spiteful:
I want to cry
roses in my midnight tea
for these star collapsed lungs.
I want to cry for her
& for me.
she wont allow me the courtesy.
.i remembered. in Personal More Like This
the conversation with the anesthetist,
he said place your thumbs over your eyes
and press gently, and i replied isn't that
and no i can't feel my hands but i'm
not really bothered, i will sleep
sleep and sleep, i won't need them,
and please keep an eye on the sea til i
wake, it might pack up its fish and
go travelling, it might leak through
the holes in the earth like a sieve,
all the shipwrecks and sharks will
(i don't believe in anything, and that makes me a liar because i believe in that)
.the sun did not. in Free Verse More Like This
kiss my skin
yesterday, he slept
face around noon
and then went back
to bed; the
.when her love left, it left. in Free Verse More Like This
the house empty
and she says
i hope one day it'll
come back to me,
cos i don't keep this shotgun
on my front porch for nothin'
.my bedroom. in Personal More Like This
so sometimes i climb
out the window and
curl up on the
there used to be a tree
down the side that kept his
arms open for me
but he said i don't think
you're ever gonna know
how it feels to be
you know you've
already got a heart
of gold and eyes
i said now
to touch me
(i can drop down into the alley from here, or sit with the cat like a gargoyle)
.she told me i had soft palms,. in Personal More Like This
i said yeah but i've got a hard
heart, because when
i was young i got given
two goldfish, and one day the
big ate the little
and that's when i learnt i'd
be fucked by the world, it would
do the same thing to me too
(i heard the language of evil and i started to speak it, saw the actions of evil and i started to be it)
.i would shed my skin. in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
with autumn, but my veins would
crack like the dry leaves
.he stood on the shore,. in Free Verse More Like This
and told the sea he loved her;
the jealous wind tore his
voice in two
.i dream of drowning in. in Free Verse More Like This
lakes, belly up, a petal
shaped bruise of your thumb
on either wrist
i dream that what lays
in my bed is so much
more terrifying than what
lurks underneath it
.the birds don't sing. in Personal More Like This
anymore, they sigh -
a magpie shouts, i think
it's time you heard this,
god you really are a stupid
girl, if you saw things
from up here you'd understand,
see - some kids they don't
ever hatch, don't mean
that it's your fault, and if
you hold on to the shell of
em you're the one that's gonna
crack - so throw it out yeah
just get rid of it i'll
help you if you want, i'll
scoop it up with one swift
wing, and i won't be
bringing it back
(things might be picture perfect but i much prefer the frame)
Losing my BreathIt's 2amLosing my Breath in Free Verse More Like This
and the calling birds
are hatching in my heart,
I feel it crack and they emerge.
Feel them drilling on my ribs,
the steady anxious thrum
of a flight risk
waiting to happen.
and I can't breathe,
memories of you
are nesting in my throat
I can't work around them.
It's cutting off the circulation,
and my frantic heart
tries to keep on.
and tears scratch their directions
into my cheeks,
they flounder and meander
and they erode.
My skin and soul is scraped down
layer by layer
and another day is heralded
by the angry flutterings in my chest.
I try to swallow my pride,
dam the tears
and crawl through the dark again.
Coughing up blood
and inhaling iron filings
(The remainder of
what used to be my life).
Perfect on PaperWe cut heartsPerfect on Paper in Free Verse More Like This
into paper to make streams
† † † † † † † † † † † † †of love.
That was my impression of it.
That you ripped
† † † off
† † the pieces you didn't want
until you got something that was
† † † † † † † † † † † † † pretty.
It's no wonder
that I can't believe that someone
would think I was paper-perfect,
† † † † † † † † † † † † †or loved.
† † † † † † †~♥~♥~
United, We WriteHear me read itUnited, We Write in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
0hgravity, if by some divine fortune you should decide that today is the day you will fail me, then let me soar through the ChemicalSkyline. Grant me a-lovely-anxiety that raises a storm InTheStarryNightSky for me to riseandbe above all else. Let me soar.
How I long to be the frail rider-on-the-storm and not a victim of the RoamingShadow, Rogue-Of-The-Night, that BlackVelvetNightmare of my nights and days. I long
For every boy I ever kissedi.For every boy I ever kissed in Free Verse More Like This
you took my hand 'neath the magnolia
at a christmas dinner party I held.
your mouth was cold. so were my affections.
you were the first man to listen to me.
i let you listen to my heartbeat; but
when the day fell away, you bruised me deep.
you were my safe harbour, and i your storm
turning your misery to naught but air
but i squirmed away from your tongue, repulsed.
you were my cradle, when i couldn't sleep
you would hold me close and pray for something,
anything, to keep me safe. (it was you).
eleven months spent sleeping with my phone,
i still couldn't believe when you kissed me
even after midnight struck us again.
i don't miss those guitar-player fingers
you wrapped me 'round. i loved enough for you
until i realised you didn't love me.
we fell into our love by accident
and like one, there were some fatalities
when you said you loved me using her name.
opposites attract. i fell hard for you.
you kissed me in starlit castle ruins.
The DescriptionHe drinks coffeeThe Description in Free Verse More Like This
its the art of seduction,
and quite honestly
when he does it
it might as well be.
You'll catch him
frowning into it
as he hastily scribbles
in a notebook
to make the world
El cambia a español
en la mitad del frase
and I don't think
he even realises.
He loves the world
that to be a part of it
leaves you feeling
He makes the world seem
to contain his love
and when he smiles,
because he reminds me
that there is hope
to be had.
For the world,
For people like us.
He is soil,
Salt of the earth,
of everything good
that will grow from
He is a ramshackled
waking up to
the realisation that
he is an innovator;
and that his passion
could change the world.
MutantHear me read itMutant in Free Verse More Like This
I am a mutant.
† † † † † † † †† † | My skin does not sallow in the sun
† † † † † † † †† † † and I do not blush jaundice through my cheeks.
† † † † † † † †† † | I do not have extra fingers, or toes -
† † † † † † † †† † † although my spine;
† † † † † † † † †† † † † † † † † † † † † † †† † †it boasts an ironic vertebrae,
† † † † † † † † † † † † †† † † † † † † † † † †† †it is a long tally of the hearts I have broken
† † † † † † † † † † † † † †† † † † † † † † † †† †and when I straighten my spine the bones Pop out of place.
† † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † †† †††I am out of place.
† † † † † † † † † †| I do not have a super power,
† † † † † † † † † †† I lack exceptionality in all but my ordinariness.
† † † † †† † † † † | there is a vengeful bacteria feasting -
† † † † † †† † † † † on my shoulder places;
† † † † † † † †† † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † †† † † betwee
You are not an islandI have been alone. This man is an island.You are not an island in Free Verse More Like This
The cliffs of my shoulder blades
hang heavy with grief, ore, suffering.
I am draped with the permanence of gravity,
So do not believe that you cannot move.
Come to me, water babes fully grown,
Allow yourself to be swept in salt and ash.
Tumble with your brothers into my arms
and be at peace, at last, on the shore.
I too was once drowned, but I arose
and as the caps melt, all things will erode
For no man is an island alone.
You'll Never DieHear me read it!You'll Never Die in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They say that if a writer falls in love with you then you never really die.
Instead your body is laid out in its funerial shrouds and moulds are made. Soft impressions of you to be pressed onto the blank faces of future loves.
Every time I write of taking comfort in a safe place in a storm, it will be your forearm. Every half-made smile will be on your lips, and every touch will be constructed from the residue beneath your fingernails.
When I metaphise of trees' blood, the leaves that give the energy so that a willow can provide shade for those in need, it will be your blood, it will be your light drenched kisses.
Every tear on every face will taste of the sweat that you put into keeping me happy. Every soaring song of love will be played through your windpipe, your trachea my instrument of choice.
For every time that a hero has the strength to walk on, I will use your feet. I will weld them to my own and walk a mile. Wal
nightmares and lavender owlsdear night-bonesnightmares and lavender owls in Free Verse More Like This
do not marinade in the melanchor
and allow your feeble surfaces
to become slippy and
under the fingertips of sanity -
don't become a semblance,
of reality, just be.
there's no need for lavender
to perfumiae the dusk garden
that thoughtless flower
does not grow here.
after the broken attempts -
of cracked knuckles
as they claw a representation
of beauty, into soil.
oh, to that intrical fluid
thinly veined cribbages
of capillary and thought,
illusive thought -
don't slumber to a stop
and leave me destitute and dehydrated
of truth, of life.
do not betray me
with your sharp and unsoft pricks
of the reality
into my ribs--
don't sharpen my senses
to the point of self harm by thought,
oh bones and sanity
and the screeching owls
that herald in a death-silence
that coos the word;
do not ask of me more than i can bare -
don't, please, ask me
to endure the blade-in-brain
40810If only you were soulless.40810 in Free Verse More Like This
If you were mindless, blind,
you and I could make a beautiful disaster.
The press would write of our brief affair;
they'd paint me (the woman in red) as pathetic.
They will not consider how I need your love
or how it pains me so deeply to throw myself at you.
I will not be remembered as a poet warrior.
I'll be the eternal survivor no more.
All who think of me will shake their bowed heads
and tearfully remark;
If only you were soulless.
If you were mindless, blind,
You wouldn't have been such a bloody disaster.
breathe deepbreathe deep.breathe deep in Free Verse More Like This
breathe it shallowly if you need to,
if filling your lungs to bursting
is too much,
but breathe the depth-
of tree roots
and ethnic roots
and the roots planted by love.
and the orgiastic fullness
it gives the empty shell
you try so hard to stuff
but nothing sticks;
because deep is star-soaked
desperate with creeping beauty
like attar and trellis
and the june moon.
this is how you keep her.
this is how you say,
this is our permanent address.
this is how you say i love you
with something more than words.
the death of selfi can't find words tothe death of self in Free Verse More Like This
i can't articulate
and blood doesn't stick-
i am stuck with my self
and the monsters
who have inched in,
night by night
until their figures
loom over me,
i am mourning.
the loss of you,
no matter how temporary;
to destroy my body
beyond its crumbling pillars;
the sadness in every cell
that contains the ocean,
wave after wave of thorough dejection,
apathy and agony
that nothing seems to solve.
i do not move.
i exist because it is what i know to do.
i breathe only because it takes effort to stop.
the hole in which i am buried
is filled with heavy, sodden soil
and my blood offerings
and constantly emptying myself
receives no mercy from a deity,
i am mourning
the death of my self.
liari am good at lying.liar in Free Verse More Like This
look at my face.
see my teeth, lips
pulled from gums,
see my bracelets
sparkle when my eyes
don't look at my wrists
do not worry-
i am smiling
wide, just for you.
for those who want to be in loveyou want to fall in lovefor those who want to be in love in Free Verse More Like This
hard enough to break your bones and
lighten your feet
lighten your heart
so softly that the butterflies you feel
pattering with their gossamer wings
beneath the cage of your ribs
and the breath,
blue in the summer,
can kiss you and the monarchs
as sweetly as your love
and her lips.
you dream of them at night.
silken like clean bedsheets,
familiar as your favourite chair
when you curl up with
a mug of herbal tea.
you feel at home
with her body curled in yours,
only able to sleep
with her skin under your fingers
scenting the blankets
with something no perfume
could ever mirror.
you write love letters
you dream emptily
unless she is there.
you want to fall in love
the way the gods drink ambrosia,
you want to treat her
better than their nectar,
sweeter than honeybees
and their summer-sticky feet.
you want a love beyond poetry,
from winter flurries
to springtime rosebuds
to summer sweet lemonade
to autumnal red leaves u
christmas is not only in decemberyou sleep through so much sunchristmas is not only in december in Free Verse More Like This
that it is the moon
who rises for you.
born in the russian springtime
with cyrillic letters on your tongue,
you are endless.
you are a ring,
curved to infinity
your hands belong in mine,
or else on my hips.
curve me into the shape
of an s,
narrow me in the centre
to give room to your arms-
they belong around me.
you are a gift;
when i fall asleep
on the opposite edge of the bed from you
and wake curled to your chest,
it is christmas every time.
summer 2011the keys are trappedsummer 2011 in Free Verse More Like This
inside your car,
into thousands of fairy lights
and echoes of laughter.
here we sit,
watching boys teetering on the edge
of being men turn into
human fireworks, clothing ablaze
like the stars so far from reach.
it's with the breath
of the sun on your back,
the patterns of roses on your wallpaper
opening like mouths into full blossom.
i take a hot injection of humid air,
watching the fish pass in its currents,
and release the stream back
into the ocean.
we sit with our spines on fire,
lit beneath the baked, freckled crust
of our skin.
sipping italian sodas and absorbing
as much uv radiation as possible,
we bloom into fuller people.
the nights sit cool and light
on our shoulders,
the pavement still branding
the backs of our thighs
as we sit and bare stories
that made us into the
humans we have become this final summer.
playing godi am the last paramedic you want to respond to your call.playing god in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
by no means am i inept at my job- i am, in fact, the best in my precinct. my problem is sometimes i think i'm god.
the people who are drains on society - the welfare collectors, the addicts, the elderly, the people who wronged me in high school or remind me of the people who wronged me in high school; the people who cost me taxes? oops, i made a mistake. i'm sorry, mrs. doe, but john didn't make it. our team failed to correctly assess and promptly address his condition. our condolences.
i have let hundreds die on my watch. just seen the spasms stop, the light leave their eyes. i have saved hundreds as well. i am god and i choose who is repentant and righteous and allowed to carry one; i choose who is to be condemned to an eternity of hellfire and brimstone.
tell me- does this make me a bad person?
on an envelopewhy do my d's and l's look like yours when i write your name?on an envelope in Free Verse More Like This
it's just been a little carousel,
spinning in pirouettes,
in my mind all day.
all i know is i'm glad i don't love you.
i don't know why you aren't relationship material-
in all honesty, you are.
i don't know why you treat me like your girlfriend-
kissing my forehead,
holding me gently,
touching me sweetly,
asking to see me,
sixty miles out of the way
in a city i can fall in love,
with no promise of sex-
all i know is i'm glad i don't love you,
& i hope it stays.
you call me an angelyou call me an angelyou call me an angel in Free Verse More Like This
in spite of the bruises left on the fronts of my knees
stains of sin left on my skin;
the knots in my back,
you liken to the wings soon to burst from my shoulders
&tell me you can feel no sadness
when looking at my face-
eyes you analyse
into paints of the colour wheel,
several shades i have yet to see;
despite its crooked nature
thinning enamel from my sickness-
you still find me amongst the heavens.
as this once,
i kissed you to shut you up.
my skin is removing itself after my clothes
in the winter,
too unlike the white night of russian summers.
i kissed you &it was wet because i was crying
&every time our lips parted
another sob stuttered its way through the gap.
you heard what words i couldn't swallow,
the ones straining to pass over my tongue
yet drowned upon existence.
you listen to me until i lose my headstrong aim
to starve back to bones,
to see the angel wings i've lost in my skin
you touch &feel are there;
barcelona is burningi owe you an apology-barcelona is burning in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
you, in the crowd,
the one panicking about reading
or the mess at home
or the sheer volume of people
pressing into you like corners;
the woman who birthed me into this world
through hours of agony
as though that wasn't enough
because doctor appointment after therapy appointment after residential stay after thirtieth pound lost,
i've put you through countless
warped into months of agony
you never asked for;
and you, oh, mostly you.
you, because as hard as i've beaten my own heart into the wall,
and as deep as i let you bury mine,
i know, somehow, i managed to do the same to you.
you left, and i left two weeks after.
every night was a terror;
every morning was a letdown.
i ached constantly
and threw myself into books
like they would become oxygen masks until i could breathe on my own again.
and here's the thing, you know,
because you would knock my legs out from under me again and again.
"let's fall back in love," you'd say,
and i would fall to
fly.this is hard for the world around us to grasp:fly. in Free Verse More Like This
these wildfires raging in our retinas
& the sins we wear like demonic similes
on our tongues- they are not enough.
& i am so fucking sorry of saying i'm sorry.
but, tell me,
what is a young poet(ess) to do
with veins made of kite strings?
No wander about it, just lust.You were a mid-morning train wreck,No wander about it, just lust. in Free Verse More Like This
the embodiment of poetry.
& my clavicles whispered too many nothings
about your summer storm hands,
folding like paper cranes
to make wishes upon themselves.
wishes are for the weak-
do something about this quaking heart
& freezing fingers.
I think I found God then,
Collection of poetic nothings.We were opal Tuesdays,Collection of poetic nothings. in Free Verse More Like This
tattooed into the
rose garden curve
of my vertebrae,
gliding me through this wild youth.
But, like Icarusó
I was a sky conqueror
& these silk wings
touched the sun.
My inhalations are heavy,
like the earth he bruises
beneath his fingertips
as I chase silence.
"You've got a tongue
made for words." He says
against the arrogant thorns
of my briar spine.
"Learn to love yourself."
How do I say I love you
without saying I love you?
"I want to replace my heart with you."
You are spider silk woven
into my harvest moon
limbs traveling this road map
of songbird sin.
You are not just in my head now,
you are dancing in the lingering stars
of my night-witch frame
& setting me on fire.
You're not bruised enough
to write poetry.
Allow these bones to tell your story, Love.
Heart:a rebellionHeart: in Free Verse More Like This
in her chest.
she's got skin
unworthy to write
she tapes those
to her limbs
The rule of nines.I know more about half-moon palmsThe rule of nines. in Free Verse More Like This
than most know about
the kind that beg dandelion child,
I know about forged castle ribs & broken homes.
Myths that are half fact & imaginary friend
turned bogieman -
Fangs that tear clear through ice-bone hearts
like they are nothing but pretty paper
to be folded over, again & again & again
by the hands of quivering youths:
Icarus, the reincarnated
sky conqueror searching for warmth.
dust.I'm chokingdust. in Free Verse More Like This
on the ink-dipped fingers
of verbs & metaphors
still lodged in this bruised,
paper crane throat;
of your words,
still kissing my ribs.
How can you judge me-
when you don't bother
to read the naked poetry
beneath the temple of my flesh?
How long can butterfly
ankles hold up a
Don't bother whispering
your secrets to nebulae,
not even the dust in my veins
will listen anymore.
August Lover,I want to wrap myself in your air,August Lover, in Free Verse More Like This
hold your secrets between my
ribcage-embrace & just
I am trying to be honest,but I write so fucking floweryI am trying to be honest, in Free Verse More Like This
it makes me sick,
rose scented stars & love.
Her: helpless as a lamb,
I want raw, aching
bone against bone
exploring the exposed, naked
poetry of her universe-
( warm, celestial hands
† † † † forging sandcastle ribs. )
Southern earth beneath her feet,
wanderlust burned like Apollo's touch
into her spinal cord, †please awaken
the empty space between her skin
Dear Poetry,I might be dangerously on the verge of being poetic, but-Dear Poetry, in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes I don't feel me in my own skin.
I am too many breaks between pulses,
& a heart still living in the autumn of 99.
I'm telling stories about a girl.
A soul made of ink & godly metaphors,
too much for a non-homeostatic body.
There were once fireflies in her smile,
alight between the gaps in her teeth.
love letters carved into wrists
she never sent.
She is Porphyria, & you are her lover.
Sun Child,I am freezingSun Child, in Free Verse More Like This
& I am hungry
for fever’s lips-
her inky fingers
a dry stomach.
My body is an ocean,
my limbs, but oars.
My tongue & teeth,
a life raft
keeping this madness
from sinking into blue.
Offering up 102 degrees
You would think
I had something to say.
I Know You Hate Me Now But...I Know You Hate Me Now But...:I Know You Hate Me Now But... in Free Verse More Like This
Just give me a chance alright, I'll explain
To me, you're the girl that I notice everything about.
The way you laugh, the way you smile;
We got along great back then, even if we don't now.
And to be honest, I miss that...
You had the most lovely silky smooth hair
You'd give me the cutest anime girl smile
I wish I'd talked to you more about Manga,
Hell you got me started on the whole thing.
You were fantastic at drawing too
Man I was always jealous of that talent,
And I loved your drawings, like I once loved you.
I wish that you could have been a professional.
I would have bought your book every month y'know...
You encouraged me to write.
Back when my stories were shit,
Back when my poems were still baby's rhymes.
You taught me not to give in and I was grateful.
Now just let me finish alright?
I know that you won't speak to me.
That's okay, I admit to being an ass,
But the reason that I'm writing this poem to nobod
Practice Poem - Man In CagePractice Poem - Man in Cage:Practice Poem - Man In Cage in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
When I was young I was taught that pain begets pain,
Anger and animosity, malice and cruelty;
So deeply inflicted, so lovingly gifted.
I tasted of its rotten core and dared to call it sweet.
But what do I have to show for it?
White hot scars that burn in my dreams.
Reminders of a fragmented bi-polar self;
Self inflicted propaganda, to reinforce the "truth".
Truth so lovingly fabricated by a weakness within,
So desperately crying out for vindication;
Openly denying all that might shed light upon me,
Seeking only the company of shades in shadows...
Within four walls I sleep in exile;
Quietly pretending that I am still sane,
Never noticing how it has all turned out;
Alone I remain the same...
Never reaching, never living; I am free within the cage
-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st January 2012
Painted SkinPainted Skin:Painted Skin in Free Verse More Like This
He smiles at you, as you enter the office;
Wearing eyeliner made of contempt and disdain.
His cheap cologne invades your nostrils immediately
And you quickly suppress a cough.
"Yes, yes, indeed we have to review this...er, many things are involved."
His face is powdered with a layer of self-importance;
Lips reddened by the polite harshness he spews.
His forked tongue flickers as he prattles on
And you're really getting quite tired.
"Oh I'm sorry! Of course, of course I understand; but my way is much better!"
You're getting really bored now, so you take a look around the room.
The expectation is to see it bedecked with acolades;
Yet bare walls, cold and empty, are all that greets you.
"Are you listening to me, I'm telling you why this isn't good enough. LISTEN TO ME!"
You take a look at the cup of coffee you were offered,
Cheap and lukewarm; you narrow your eyes.
"Is there a problem? I'm being honest, this is for YOUR OWN GOOD!"
The Way We LiveThe Way We Live:The Way We Live in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
We all have our own little struggles;
Pushing on forward as the tragedies double.
A life led with pain and exhaustion too immense,
I'm pushing down walls as my muscles go tense.
But these are the words that you'll never hear me spit.
I'd never say I'm 'giving up' or if I should 'quit'.
I'm really freaking stupid so just tell it to my face,
And even then I'd never give up the right to race.
I'm like a lone arrow drawn and shot from a bow,
Blustered by the winds of all the things I don't know.
I'd never figure out if I'd reach the final mark,
But I know that I'd never lose my glowing inner spark.
And that's all it takes just to keep this body going.
With calloused hands in this ocean I'm still rowing
Searching for some land out amidst a sea of black;
A wandering gypsy bearing burdens on his back.
- Chen Yuan Wen, 14th January 2013
Misery's GardenMisery's Garden:Misery's Garden in Free Verse More Like This
Through the cold ice we trekked, the Reaper and I.
His face an ever-shifting grin, oscillating between joy and malice...
With quick, light-footed steps, he lead me to a warm green meadow.
A small hut in the distance, a little garden beside.
Where a hunchbacked man, covered in boils and open wounds;
Bearing a crooked jaw and gnarled hands, tilled the earth.
"Egh yew ooh wha gu wan!"
I was so startled by the hunchback's sudden outburst,
That I jumped and gripped the Reaper's cloak in fright,
Yet as soon as he had seen me, the hunchback's eyes glazed over;
He appeared to forget about our presence...
I had to admit, I was very curious
And I wished to move in close so I could inspect him.
Reaching out with my hand to clasp his own;
I was assailed by horrid visions.
In one instance I was a collector of night soil,
Abuse hurled at me like stones and I the accepting target.
For to speak was to open this torn mouth of mine
And that would merely draw a mocki
What You Can't RememberWhat You Can't Remember:What You Can't Remember in Free Verse More Like This
You know that something's wrong inside
But you will try to hide it.
Far away from prying eyes;
You say you don't remember...
What is this memory inside.
You feel like you've forgotten.
A part of you decides;
To say you don't remember...
How long will you deny
The bitter truth behind it.
The day you lost yourself;
But now you can't remember...
When first you took away the mask
And looked back at the mirror.
You thought you saw another man;
But you simply don't remember...
The times when you were not yourself
When you forced yourself upon her.
It was a day like this;
But now you won't remember...
The past is locked away for good;
Now hide it with a key.
Smile and carry on in life;
In time you won't remember...
"It's easy to forget a monster..."
-Chen Yuan Wen, 10th April 2012
The Assumption PoemThe Assumption Poem:The Assumption Poem in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
There once was a pirate whose name was Big Brock
He was a young lad with a really big-
Gun and he tried to hold up this young lass!
He bent her right over and swiped her sweet-
Chain that she kept in her pocket out front
He took it and ran while he called her a-
Fool for keeping something nice on her dress
He ran to a bar and squeezed one young maid's-
Hand when he asked her to go out on a date
Before the big night he would go master-
Swordsmanship skills and a punch that was slick
Maybe later she would go suck on his-
Plant that was filled with some rum by the door
He smiled when she arrived for she looked like a-
Pretty young lass who was ready for love
If you thought this was dirty you can go **** yourself!
"The last word was 'love' :3"
-Chen Yuan Wen, 14th April 2012
UndyingUndying:Undying in Free Verse More Like This
How many days do you spend now, putting me down?
The coffin call for a dead man waiting around
"He's just an underground laughing stock, never to rise"
But on the seventh day I'm coming back; these are my ties!
The kind of promise that you made with the devil inside
You try to take away my soul, but I take it in stride
I ain't a doll that is crushed by the weight of his pride
I am the real and the raw of the things you denied!
You're playing snake games, selling oil, pass it off strong
You're just a pot head, weed dead, smoking your bong.
You try to look away, play and hide; apathy's best
But I'm the kind of bad boy you don't put to the test!
-Chen Yuan Wen, 7th February 2013
You Left Me StrongerYou Left Me Stronger:You Left Me Stronger in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Hey there, it's been awhile, do you remember me?
I guess you might not, since I wasn't very important to you.
You know, I spent so many days thinking about - what I did wrong
I questioned if maybe, I was at fault or if I was screwed up.
I thought a lot about the things you said...
The things that were my fault, my problems.
I took them to heart at first, but then I realised you were wrong.
I realised that you are selfish and ugly on the inside.
On the surface you pretended to care, but like a cancer;
You amputate someone the moment you think they've gone bad.
You hide from the rigours of life and only emerge like a parasite
When everything is good - when everything is fine and dandy.
I used to think that I was afraid of you leaving,
But now I know, that you've left me stronger than I was before.
You know, this was supposed to be an emotional whine; an emotional spill,
Maybe I was supposed to cry tears and beg you to come back, but you know wha
The PoetThe Poet:The Poet in Free Verse More Like This
He smiles as he sees her sleeping
& gently covers her with a blanket.
He goes to the window and looks out
watching snow fall, ever so slowly...
He sees people in the streets,
Chatting, walking. Some happy,
Others sad. Hearts beating,
Hearts broken; some warm, some cold.
He looks back at her, as she stirs in bed.
A yawn from her, brings another smile to him:
"How cute," he chuckles as he strokes her head.
He runs his fingers through her hair and is content.
Yet, even if he is happy here, again -
He is drawn to that window and finds himself
Staring out at the street and watching;
Marveling at the disparity and wondering -
Isn't there something that I can do?
Isn't there a better way for us all?
He looks back at her, sleeping peacefully;
He thinks about the future and sighs.
He wants a better world for her,
One where she would always be safe,
But unfortunately, he has no power.
He is just one man with little to his name.
He picks up a piece of paper, one found lyin
Before I Can Become a WriterDevelop insomnia. DevelopBefore I Can Become a Writer in Free Verse More Like This
problems with substance abuse,
nothing serious, but enough
that I can say “write drunk,
edit sober” and mean it.
Drink tea. Write about drinking
tea. Take up smoking, ignore
the thoughts about it being
a slower suicide. Write about
suicide. Don’t mean it.
Write about sunsets and
ink veins. Mean it.
Fall in love with someone
who will never love me back.
Lament. Write a million
crappy poems and two good
ones. Never show him.
Move on. Write a few more
bad poems. Fall in love with
someone perfect. Screw it up.
Fall in love with someone awful.
Call him perfect. Screw it up.
Cry. Cry for the inevitable,
the way my family never
loved me right, the way my
first kiss was regrettable
at best, the way my therapist
says my depression is a demon
taking over me. Cry for the
changeable, the way
I hate my body and my writing
and everything I live to be.
Use clichés. Live clichés,
breathe clichés, be
a cliché. Write a poem
catch a falling star, put it in your pocketthere's something about those little brokencatch a falling star, put it in your pocket in Free Verse More Like This
dreamer girls with misproportionate promises
and lingering whispers,
who walk like angels, lost, and trying
to find a way back home;
whose hearts bleed abnormally loud
and resonant- those girls with
shadows like ghosts [dead and haunting],
that make them a flavor
to taint your tongue.
if you listen close, you can hear the
unraveling words that once knit the hollow space
between their bones,
you can hear their shallow sighs like
sun sets for a final time.
you can hear their ticking time bomb lungs
and you can touch their secrets, because they
wear them on their skin. not like wounds,
more like sun kisses or wispy tattoos
ingrained into who they are; you won't know
what they mean until you connect the dots
and find answers in their questioning stares.
they'd like to remain something unknown, because
they've identified the world as a disease- vile and
insidious, with the capability of sinking
underneath your flesh and changing who you are.
zeroi sworezero in Free Verse More Like This
i would never number the poems
i wrote about myself because that
would be like ticking off the days
until my breakdown;
i was a moth, unapologetically throwing myself
at any gleam of hope; wasting my wings
on industrial promises
colors always felt much more
appropriate for the purple boiling
beneath my heart and the pallid
purposelessness of my head,
but i was born into a colorless world--
no one sees me behind the metallic scars
of my skin and iron grating of my voice against
the grain; no one sees me as more than
gray regret or monochrome mistakes,
no one sees me but
all i ever wanted was for a
fallen god with feathered heels
to believe in me: to pray upon
the monuments i built for
broken dreams and to baptize me
in his tainted tears,
i just want him to be real. more
than anything, i want to be real, i want
to be more than an imaginary friend
to various mental limitations; i want
to trade my liquid skin [evaporating]
for a chance to be
i am a moth and you are the lighthouse
scraps and sacramentsyou,scraps and sacraments in Free Verse More Like This
beautiful siren girl with melodies
entangled in her hair: you are
shell-shocked and sea-struck
even though you cannot stand
the sensation of sand beneath
you have fingers for prying, picking,
pulling at your skin and nesting
in that hollow space between
your bones. and if anyone asks,
you will swear there are monsters
sleeping in the concaves of your ribs;
there are ghosts beneath your tongue,
embittered, and you are not the words
they say there is an answer, little girl
(sometimes you begin to believe you are
a scarecrow on the border of reality
begging people to turn the other way;
and the mirror will agree)
how far have you gone? a feather in
the breeze who won’t promise to return
again; there is a wandering warmth in
the hesitation of your harbored fear.
where will you be in six months when
the future has become itself and you
are still astray? little one, no one is like you
in the way you sway to the cadence of a
dissonant night. no one knows your
things I learned at 11 am while I was half-asleepithings I learned at 11 am while I was half-asleep in Free Verse More Like This
I’m spending most of my time
not crying, and I’m sorry,
but I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone
as much as aspirin, or lullabies,
or the cheap wine sold for two dollars a bottle,
or overly-apologetic letters bending over backwards
to make a point of themselves, or the pink petals
blooming on my wrists like flesh and blood miracles,
or the songs named after women
things may not change,
but you will have to.
I am most alone
surrounded by people
and the buzzing in my head of words
that should have lost their meaning
back when I discovered
they never meant anything
Dedications are only relevant
to people who appreciate shitty poetry,
or you. Insanity is writing the same thing
over and over and expecting it not
to sound clichéd.
and as much as anyone will swear otherwise,
I am a statistic. A number, an example,
a case study in the manipulation of
narcissism and moving on
Storybook AddictionsI want you to love me as much as you doStorybook Addictions in Free Verse More Like This
the thorns in your side; seeds planted and
forgotten and bleeding cyclically.
when the swallowed night drowns and
drains darkness like a trickled lullaby, I want
to be the last thing in your dreams.
I want to be your mistake East of Eden, your lack
of redemption; when they tear apart your paper
flesh with metal claws, I want to be the one you
come crawling back to with bloodied knees.
[right now I am an empty vessel, unfulfilled
and metaphorically obsolete. I want to clear
my throat for once, without seeing the ashes
of my disease.]
I want to love you like a swansong;
breezes make your bones ache and
I am always cold-- no one wants the
wind: it bites and they identify my
prickled flesh as its invitation.
[I wish I weren’t the pendulum
around your neck, counting the days
until you’d finally leave]
I only ever wanted you to love me.
Dandelion QueenI dream of the ocean;Dandelion Queen in Free Verse More Like This
that paper-thin line where
the current swallows the stars
and the water churns violet
(you tell me to be
dandelion queen, we've
heard all these words before)
I will sleep heavy
and wake a few hours before dawn,
only to forget my name
my wave-weathered heart will cry,
I will cry (my biggest fear
is drowning in too many
of my own weighted words
you tell me to be
so I can hear the world breathe)
I want to go home
with lovei.with love in Free Verse More Like This
sleepwalking with stars
like bulletwounds, tonight
is for wandering and
loving people I’ve never met.
I have a hole in my heart for
the boy on my bus who balances
the world on his chin as he sleeps.
I’m drawn to a sunshine girl leaking
beams every time she opens her
mouth to smile. and still, I follow
a boy who walks across clouds;
I want to ask him to send me up
like a balloon.
ways I need to be loved:
a hand heavy on my hip to remind me
gravity is more than an ideal, a
soft kiss to bring me back from
other galaxies, a calm whisper
when I’ve run out of words
but the silence is too
I’m severely broken up,
fragments of words and
heartscraps and sky-pieces;
crawling backwards through
open windows trying to find
a home. I’m trying but
I was untaught how to
function, I’m trying to
be correct. I’m trying to
be normal. I’m trying to
be correct. I’m trying.
words I need to hear:
I Love You. i love you
i love you i lov
Escaping Narcissusii.Escaping Narcissus in Free Verse More Like This
there are no explanations, none worthy
of your contortionist spine and
sky-hungry hands, no sorrow;
this is the happy song for the happy people:
raise your paper heart to the heavens
[I wish god would take pity on me
and flood the abomination right out of my
skin, drown the impure, start new
with a dove that doesn’t know
in my head,
I’ve already left you a thousand times over.
sometimes, I wander through the streets and
idolize the living like a curious phantom
with a nonexistent pulse; sometimes, I run
desperate to the woods that seem
to breathe and mourn, where the trees
resemble bodies of people weaker than me,
and sometimes, I fly away because it turns out
the needles nestling beneath my skin
were feathers, waiting to cry out, and
I watch as your shadow dissolves
into the unsympathetic
but every time,
I come back, crawl into our weary bedsheets,
and number off your breaths until I fall
we are not a fairytalewe are not a fairytale.we are not a fairytale in Free Verse More Like This
I am not the strong lead with a heart of fire,
bones of steel, and eyes of vapid curiosity;
motivation seeping through
my every last intended action because
I was written this way
(the heroine falls only to rise again:
proverbial phoenix, burning out
because it is the cycle of my
life) and you, you are not
the beautiful travesty, perfectly composed
to strike me where I’m weak and
[almost]human, delicately woven
like the tapestry of my dismantling—
a subtle irony where somewhere, a writer
chuckles softly, understanding
we are blinder than church mice, born
in a makeshift world of darkness where
I’m not sure whether or not the sun will
rise again tomorrow, because it won’t exist
until someone breathes life into it,
but no. we were never so lucky
to be carefully orchestrated,
a composition rendered for
another’s satisfaction. I am not the
climax, nor the resolution, but a lamb
with Stockholm Syndrome and
a tendency towards people
You lo(i)ved inside my chest.We made loveYou lo(i)ved inside my chest. in Free Verse More Like This
† † † †(once, twice, and
† †I stopped counting the
† † † †bruises)
in the middle of winter
and pretended neither of us were
casualties when we collided,
a heart-on collision,
I keep the room you rented
from me empty,
I don't think about you anymore,
but I don't think about you
A(nother) letter to myself.You have grown.A(nother) letter to myself. in Free Verse More Like This
You are not ten years
old and silent.
You've found the words
and you have made them
your sword and your shield,
your battering ram against
the walls you built when you
were too afraid to live.
And I know that some days
you feel like letting go,
That you wonder if it might
feel like flying if you spread your arms
and close your eyes and pretend you
aren't doing this to die.
You have stood on the edges
of rooftops and bridges
† † (To follow her, I know,
but you were not born to go this way.)
and you have climbed back down.
You will make it, my girl,
by the skin of your teeth.
And when you get here,
I will have built a life out of
the ashes of yours.
You will be born into me,
and I am strong enough for both of us.
Love letter to myself.Small handed girl,Love letter to myself. in Free Verse More Like This
you've written the truth
of your scars wherever there's
space to write it
and I love you.
They painted over
the rape you wrote about
on the front door of
your Uncle's house
and I love you.
They took the floorboards
of your bedroom out where you'd
carved the shape of your
father's fist into their
and I love you.
You shook the sand of
your fifteenth birthday out of
your hair and into a jar
you keep under the bed to
remember a girl with crooked
teeth and bony knees who
fled and flew
and I love you.
You've built yourself into a
fortress with nothing but your
fingernails and shredded skin
and you let him in when he
waited by the door instead of
forcing his way
and I love you.
Sweet deceit.Your promises areSweet deceit. in Free Verse More Like This
sinking cavities into
You burnt a hole
into my gums,
another on my
a million into
(I forgive you.)
Depression.To be depressed isDepression. in Free Verse More Like This
to carry every unwashed thing
in your life in your
The dishes you
couldn't clean pile
up with your innards,
jostling for space
amongst the lungs you've
smoked black and the
heart you've loved
Your unwashed sheets
hang around your shoulders,
gathering dead skin cells and
catching hair you habitually
tear from your skull, a
nervous twitch you never
You wake up one morning
and find that your hands are
still stained with dirt
from that time you buried
your lover in the backyard,
wanting to let go
but discovering that letting
go feels a lot like
giving up and
you're not ready for
but you will be.
It's still you, I swear.When I lightIt's still you, I swear. in Free Verse More Like This
and when I sing
but when I roll
over in the night to
find a breathing boy
instead of your
it's not you.
It's you in
my morning coffee
and it's you in
my favourite jeans,
and it's you in the
blisters that form
on my fingers.
Only I have taken
you out of me and turned
you into things I love
and do and read because
I wanted to love him
Things I'll tell you when you're older.The monstersThings I'll tell you when you're older. in Free Verse More Like This
don't fit under beds
Six lessons on love.One. Sometimes love will move so slowlySix lessons on love. in Free Verse More Like This
you will stop waiting for its arrival. You will become an
open bar and you will be drained and drained until one
day you open the door to let last night out and love has
left a calling card on the doormat.
Be patient. Let love come to you piece by piece
until you are full to the brim with it.
Two. Some days it will feel
like love has come for you with a wildfire
at its heels. Let it come; you were
meant to burn brighter than any sun or
star we care to name.
Three. Growing back after burning down
is a sign to leave old loves behind. Let them
go kindly. Wrap them up in tissue paper and
ribbon and give them a kiss goodbye. Be gentle but
Do not use maybe. Do not look back.
Four. Love can hurt and you will let it
because you are in love. It will spit venom and
throw fists until you stand up and throw
Be strong, letting love go is not
Five. Love will sometimes be too much.
It will let y
You spoke synonyms to me."I want to live inside your chest,"You spoke synonyms to me. in Free Verse More Like This
you said, "I want to burn between your legs."
The Pied Piper of Zolpidem.I've got a hole in myThe Pied Piper of Zolpidem. in Free Verse More Like This
middle where I've torn at my own
for a way out of this skin.
I feel like I'm splitting
down the middle and tearing at
the seams, like I'm too small
to keep the nightmares
at bay † † (away, away).
And my blood's whistling
a tune I've heard too many times
before, the pied piper
of zolpidem twisting through
Headlights on the hillside,
don't leave me this way.
this is what we ran from, running out of blood (i)new york, new yorkthis is what we ran from, running out of blood (i) in Free Verse More Like This
this was the last speck
of dust dying dead
light from a bled-out star,
future etched in destinies
that you never believed in,
i hope the faith
you never found in me
or in your chest
breaths of fresh air
in lungs plucked
and neatly tucked
under your rug
but until then,
i don't have any idea
what to say,
and the easiest way
to answer questions
is to pretend to know,
so i guess i tripped
to make the fall shorter
because standing tall
was such a tall order.
maybe the best way
to live is to pretend
and not to show
so that when the time comes
you're a surprise
with no expectations
like how we started
instead of how we ended.
watch this montage of heck,
our documentary of fuck,
and my collage of regret.
inflorescence of rafflesia titan reminiscence (#5)you are a conglomerateinflorescence of rafflesia titan reminiscence (#5) in Free Verse More Like This
of beautiful parts
composed from ugly people
with a still vernal freshness
not quite a ripe fruit,
but a budding seed
in the cradles
of its mother earth
you are as everyone else is,
a dangling dandelion
in search of an identity;
be it a flourishing floret
or curdling petal cadavers.
iv. help me befor the one whose heartiv. help me be in Free Verse More Like This
is aflame with love
and unpredictable like dynamite
when they least expect it,
this is my message to you:
we caught each other,
when we least expected it.
am a dynamite heart.
your love and passion,
as fiery as your hair
and as emotive as your poetry;
has been one of my driving forces
for maintaining my sanity, lately.
when no one else was able
and made me laugh
when I wanted nothing more
than to spit venom and cry acid.
young mind, old soul,
and oft unspoken verve,
i see the cultivation
and your growth
with each swipe of the pen.
(even through your goofy grin
and bug-eyed selfies,
proclaiming pun(k) rock status
like a badge of honor.)
i see the cultivation
and the pride and the marks
on your hands and arms
and you're becoming
a firework leaving her mark
on the masses with who you are.
this is for the one with hearts
unpredictable like dynamite
setting aflame (to me) when
they least expect it.
thank you for settin
5'7'', 176 LBS (170 CM, 80 KG)5'7'', 176 LBS (170 CM, 80 KG)5'7'', 176 LBS (170 CM, 80 KG) in Free Verse More Like This
it’s six-seventeen in the morning
and the water is just getting hot again
(my mother wakes up at ungodly hours)
and as i wait to turn on the shower,
i catch my own reflection
looking back at me.
and i take this time to look in,
instead of merely glancing.
light azure cotton assures me i’m in shape
before i remove it over my hair
looking like a bird’s nest
combined with everest.
i drop the shirt to the tile
and run my hands over my torso
north, flowing like the nile river.
my brown skin doesn’t move against the traction
and i suppose that means it’s tight to the muscle
or the bone, or whatever it is
(i was never good with science or
biology or really physical education.).
but my eyes run over my hair,
my own eyebrows, expressive
as they rise and fall. move and contort,
they're the main reason
that i've never been able to hide
how i feel.
or appear sad when i'm merely thinking.
ears not all that wide
GirlsGirlsGirls in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
This poem is for all the wonderful women, ladies, girls
And I think women actually may rule the world,
But humans of the female persuasion are more than pearls
They’re diamonds; critical to man and his kind, but if men do rule the Earth,
It’s probably a woman’s universe
And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise
The world is yours and you can do anything your heart desires
And to the stereotypes and prejudice, you ladies should throw to fire
You’re more than just a pretty face, an object of desire, or housewife
You’re not meant to just play with barbies or like pink, being into sports is more than fine
You’re far more than the exterior; you are the inside
You’re the soul and mind, the most important part of a human being
You’re more than a damsel in distress, you can be Katniss Everdeen
You can be the focus of the music that everyone sings
You can be the face of an entire nation, if you wanna be
If you apply
NebulaNebulaNebula in Free Verse More Like This
I’ve never been closer,
To the permanent entity,
Before in my life,
As I have been now.
This isn’t somethin’ you come to grips with,
Nor is it somethin' you handle,
With a wave of a hand, flick of the wrist,
Or bat of an eye.
You’re more like having a bat’s eyesight,
Near-blind because you can hardly see,
What’s coming to be
Nor what may arise.
It’s so fast,
Unrelenting in its pursuit,
And unwavering in its impact.
Shaking anyone who comes into contact,
With the whiff of death that consumes the air,
And constricts our breathing passages,
As you see someone you love,
Go down in flames and fadin’.
In (and out) the nebula of smoke.
Death isn’t so scary.
Just say goodbye,
(I love you.)
Before you die.
missing you, missing wings, missing everythingthe sounds of airplanes overheadmissing you, missing wings, missing everything in Free Verse More Like This
make me teary-eyed
because i haven't seen one
in the real-world in months
and i'm reminded
i'll never be able to fly.
Food For ThoughtFood For ThoughtFood For Thought in Philosophical More Like This
Remember, a three legged dog still has three good legs to lose.
BodhiBodhiBodhi in Philosophical More Like This
Growing up, I was taught that houses and a home were different. I think that logic would apply here. Coming from a person who wanted nothing more than to "bat a thousand," (Innocent euphemism for wanting to make my first girlfriend my first wife.) with his first girlfriend, it never came to fruition. Just two months ago, I wept and I wept over it. Thinking some part of me left, thinking I'd never be the same. Forever bitter, vengeful. As time went by, the weight lessened and lessened. I wasn't clenching my fists at the thought of her with someone else or throwing her gifted hat across the room in a fit of random, inexplicable anger...(Inexplicable because I would just randomly get angry at the thought of her.)...a part of me had come to realize, the woman that I wanted a home with, was never a home at all.
You make the best of your abilities, with the rooms and closets you were given. The skeletons, the cobwebs, the dust bunnies, and broken cabinets. But you
Advice ColumnsBefore you give yourself away,Advice Columns in Free Verse More Like This
you'll only ever get
the shattered pieces back.
Breaking BurdensThe unspoken rules of society:Breaking Burdens in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
when your hands can mimic birds
at 4 am,
tell me your stories
and defy the sky.
It only lasts a little while.
pantomiming conversationblackbirds huddle tails and talonspantomiming conversation in Free Verse More Like This
around a snow-heaped dumpster hangout
haggling the price of tomorrow's meal
in squawks, bobs, and scraps
regurgitating last week's rotting news
and last night's burnt spaghetti
I imagine them human,
tall and proud in ruffled, rumpled suits,
feathers greased sleek in topknots--
beaks painted bright in pantomime
Chasing RabbitsThere's a rabbitChasing Rabbits in Free Verse More Like This
tangled in my veins;
he's shaking my ribs,
I've got him caged
beneath my collarbones.
I can't stand
much more of the twitching,
the fur tickling my breaths
as he searches
for an escape.
I want him out,
but I don't think
stomping my foot
and telling him
how unfair it is
that he's choking me
with his little rabbit doubts
I shouldn't have made
the space near my heart
such a nice place
for him to move into.
Stagnant WatersWinter came early;Stagnant Waters in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the last trout of the season
hits the ice head-first.
Scooping Cherry Blossoms with Bare HandsI want to be a real poet,Scooping Cherry Blossoms with Bare Hands in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
as the rush comes
at the Thailand Cafe.
let go, little bird.
secrets and splotchy edgesyou hold me at arm's length and trail your words across my burning eyes. "you're okay, the world's still turning, life goes on." i wonder if you'll ever realize my heart stops with every hug. you squeeze the life from my lungs and leave behind a constant smile. you make me sound so beautiful when i'm crying for my ex's mother and my cheeks are splotchy with emotions i know i shouldn't feel. "why do you love me?" i ask you, and you turn your eyes away. "i'll never know. i guess i'm just hooked to the ways your heart beats."secrets and splotchy edges in Free Verse More Like This
you tip my gaze up at the chin and tell me to count the stars with you. "one...twelve...three hundred fifty-two..." i lose count after forty-nine, when your frozen fingers graze the skin below my ear and you hiss your lips across my neck. i shiver beneath your burning touch and you keep counting as the world spins on around us and i lose myself
He Named the Stars for HerThere were twenty-seven frecklesHe Named the Stars for Her in Free Verse More Like This
on the skin between her shoulder blades.
He used to line them into constellations in his free time:
The Big Dipper;
He called her Galaxy Girl
and swore she'd walk the moon someday.
he captured twenty-six fireflies for her
and she laughed
when he held up the jar
and told her she could find her way home with it.
She could light her way back to him.
He swore she'd be the first girl
he'd ever name a star for
and he'd call it Glacier to match her eyes
it was so much better than her real name.
He looks at the sky
through his telescope now
and wonders if she realizes he kept his promise.
Twenty-eight stars are dedicated to her
and her universe freckles.
He named them all Lizzie
and despite his long midnight talks
with the fireflies he always captures in his palms just for her,
he still can't bring her back to his world.