Sunshine,

How did we come to be?

How did I recieve the fortune of someone like you?

A being of perfect design

Solar boy,

You are the warmth in the field,

The dandelion carried on the winds,

The puffy clouds dotting the soft sky

Supernova angel,

You are the mysteries shrouded in the trees,

The unexplained phenomena, The myths and legends,

The smoke wisping in the dim moonlight

You are divine,

yet human;

A trickster fae, but a gentle soul

What a blessing Eros has gifted me,

not our romance,

but the grace of knowing someone as extraordinary as you

-A Hymn to my Boyfriend

poems

Poems.

Fuck poems.

Why?

Why are they?

What are they?

Why am I writing this?

Can you hear me?

Nothing is real.

Nothing.

I wonder what reality is like.

untitled

people call him selfish
they are wrong.
after all, isn’t putting something out of its misery
kind and empathetic?
maybe they’re the selfish ones,
forcing him to suffer
just because they can’t stand for him to leave
it’s the right thing to do, is it not?
an infected limb with its infection spreading
is necessary to cut off
isn’t it the same with a brain?
if things are only getting worse
the best thing to do is end the suffering
why wallow in the pain
when you could take it away?
it’s only logical to end it.
it’ll only ever continue till then.
after every high comes a crash
worse than the one before it.
why is everyone making it so hard on him?
just let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy. let him be happy.
let him be happy.

let him be happy.

let him be happy.

let him be happy.

let him be happy.

let him be happy.

let him be happy.

let him be happy.

let him be happy.

let him be happy.

let him be happy.

ached

even as he holds her hand
he can’t help but notice
the way his warm brown eyes glinted
the way his soft hair shone

he couldn’t help but notice
his smile, the curl of his lips
his laugh, too beautiful to miss

and his heart ached
his heart ached for him
he wanted nothing
nothing other than to be
with him

even as he holds her hand
he watches the boy
sitting by his lonesome
nodding his head to the beat of
a song no one else could hear

his heart ﬂuttered with the thought
of his arms around him
his ﬁngers running
through his soft hair
the thought
of him looking up
and he sees those lovely eyes
and slowly
slowly
their lips connect

And his heart ached
His heart ached for him
He wanted nothing
Nothing other than to be
next to him
holding him
loving him

even as he holds her hand And she drags him away
his heart aches
his heart aches for him

tragic apathy

everything is shattering,
crumbling,
into nothing
but dust,
dust that is carried away,
away from him,
away from what he once was,
what they once were
a love seat sits in a corner,
glazed with dust
clothing that were once his lie forgotten,
on the wooden ﬂoor,
glazed with dust
his eyes gaze unblinkingly
at the plain white ceiling,
glazed with dust
he lie,
ﬁnding no reason to move
moonlight ﬁlters in through an opened window,
basking him in a soft light,
basking the room in a soft light,
except the corners glazed with dust
through the window,
a breeze enters,
it takes him,
an iron grip,
it won’t let go
the dust swirls,
coating the walls,
tightening,
tightening,
tightening,
from the grip he falls,
nothing but dust

bittersweet

water swirls at my feet
i watch as it turns red
the sight bittersweet

from strikes leak
the crimson liquid of life
it runs down my legs, shaky and weak
reminiscent of the veins from which they came
destroyed by a shaving knife
it’s oh so bittersweet

i slowly reach
and gather the essence on my fingertips,
grazing the pads against my tongue
the soft iron drips
down from my lips
tasting oh so bittersweet

this makes me happy, i tell myself
again and again and again
but the sight is sickening
blood dripping from wounds of my own creation
blood filling my mouth with its metallic flavour
it’s not right
it’s not human
my thighs can barely pass as anything but mounds of scabs and blood
i can still feel the dried plasma on my lips
i just want to be soft
to be normal
but im nothing but a sorry excuse for a vampire.

it’s bittersweet.

aquaphobia

i had always been afraid of the ocean.
how ironic this fear of mine was.
it was never the ocean that would drown me.
it was myself.
i was trapped in a room, flooding with nothing but emptiness,
an emptiness that i had thrusted upon myself.
it was unbearable,
the way it rose,
and my lack of ability to prevent it.
i couldn’t hold my breath
as sorrow and regret filled my lungs,
leaving me gasping for a way to forget
even if i could flail,
not a single thing could see me,
secluded by thick fog and rising tides,
choking on every mistake
my pathetic ass had to make
as i could no longer stand the flood,
everything ended.
i could still feel the presence in my room and lungs
but it no longer hurt.
a nearly unsettling calm flowed over me,
leaving me floating alone,
eyes nearly closed with tired, heavy lids.
i pondered subconsciously,
about how i ended up here,
broken and faded
it was in these last few minutes that i realized:
i had been sinking since the start