Philocalist

when i feel lost i look to the stars. i feel home among them. amongst the things that seem the most unknown. transparency. born in delicate layers of hope. the beauty they bleed. farewells whispered in the most majestic ways. blowing themselves out of proportion. trying to feel plausible.

Serendipity

grand cityscapes, that

are not our own.

wipe our canvas clean,

soon street maps and ticket subs

contour the scene.

woven together, an existence of

rainy days and coffee beans.

sundays spent sipping dreams

we vow to chase until

our worn out soles

find their resting place.

Mizpah

there was a girl made of glass, and boy made of stone.

the girl was always stained with tears or wounds.

the boy admired mountains and the fate of rain he never knew.

she girl liked pinky swears and questions that dared.

he liked books and the color of stability.

both bore emotions too deep.

rivers of pain. fires of closing. valleys of fate.

the boy hated his smile, but now lights up the sky.

the girl way bright, sometimes blinked and faltered.

he once saved her, now he changed her.

she wrote him hundreds of words, all kept unsaid.

she cried a million tears, but

he still stayed lead.

Simplicity

from a blood root to a solanum,

she sways both ways

a mere shadow of her former self.

corridors of hopelessness,

now for your amusement.

the deflation of lungs, and

the crawling of your skin.

festering,

silence creeps into her bones.

suffocating from swallowed screams

how can i run from my mind,

but drown in simplicity.