White Moments 

Reduced to pictures of us you delete from your phone because you don’t want to tell her about me.

Reduced to the ache in your heart when you hear my favourite song play in the store you wait while she tries on shoes.

Reduced to flashback of us when you switch on the tv and they’re playing the movie during which I sobbed into your plaid shirt.

Reduced to the sharp intake of breath everytime someone wearing my favourite perfume walks by you.

Reduced to that longing you feel everytime you read a joke you know I would laugh my crazy laugh at.

Reduced to the sighs you sigh every time you find a copy of my favourite book lying in the bookstore where we first saw each other.

Reduced to the painful memories of the white moments we had that were too perfect to last for more than thirteen months.

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Her

There is this agony that I fail to define

This want, this need beyond the comprehension of my mind

Her lips, Her eyes, Her glistening smile,

Your phantasm of Her walking down the aisle

I know I’m the one

who told you to seek out the stars

I know I’m the one

who told you to follow the flight of your heart.

Tragic, though, I’m not the one.

The air stings this face that cannot breathe

The sea rises in infinite rays across the pier where I lean

salt meets salt, the clouded eyes that cannot see.

Wasn’t this charred heart enough?

The shards of glass in my soul, weren’t they enough?

The sting of your words dedicated to Her,

The bruises you never saw in your grand gestures on the spur,

You lifted Her in the air and crowned Her in all glory

I, the antagonist of my story

I helped you bleed your own heart

and hid the joy of the daggers I’d sunk in my part

The suffering, the pain, the loss, the darkness, how much was enough?

What a waste, the salt, the sea, the scars my nails dug in the wood leave

My silent scream at Her indifference, your unrequited love, your salt, my salt

Your broken heart is my burden to bear.

Love Song of the Inconspicuous Nomad

The Leaves of Grass bend and curve, too unnoticeable, as I tread on

Ironic as I too am one among the inconspicuous travelling hearts

Homesick for a nonexistent home, luring me, gnawing on, the insatiable emptiness of this abyss

I can feel the cold reach my spine, a numerous dark dystopic malignant thoughts are born

Your absence scares me the most as I try to choose among the paths

Insufferable endings, unfathomable innumerable starts

I await, walking on this moonless night, of death’s sweet sweet kiss

For all feelings, aspirations, expectations, epiphanies are already long dead

I buried them as She buried her Sorrow

But of this visible superficial facade, I do not know.

I saved some of those thoughts

Wrapped the fragile carefully, stowed them in a box

‘tis a moonless night but the stars do glisten

I still am in wait, still try to listen

To the sound of the footsteps that may accompany me on this lonesome quest

But I think my ears are too accustomed to this eerie quiet

The heart that knows no rest

The soul that is utterly tired

I still keep that box with me as I rest under this tree for the night

Though you may never find me, says this deep dark fearful insight,

I hope I remember where I left it, before my memory fades forever

You find me before I turn to ice, burn away my fear of never.