A self-editing mechanism, mutually shredding a guitar

The blues of it, the itch, the ache in running sandpaper through infant skin

The different ways I come back to you, the same way you receive me

Too many humans, their vagueness a stream you drink from, time and again

The embezzler in you they think is rogue; you qualify as honest

What is dishonesty but honesty to few?

What is honesty but diplomacy to the masses?

I changed the day you looked at me odd when I picked the cherry with the longest stem

You thought it was a no-brainer I did so for the knot, just a tease, but I didn’t

At the time, the only thing with a knot was my tongue, yet, I wasn’t tongue-tied

Let me walk you through the irony of it…see…the deeper the roots of the stem, the kinder the juice to spill when you pull it out

‘cherries belong to the rose family’

The big five

The most economic, yet the deadliest

If you can’t kill the culprit, at least get your hands on his partner in crime

The brighter scarlet, the sour in tasteless sweet

An old encyclopedia you just dusted off, and put back on the shelf

After all, wasn’t there a dead rose in it? Ah, but its fragrance remains…




If you could step into a painting, which one would it be?

Would you take it as a traffic signal blurring you to the green?

Or would you back off, afraid to evaporate to steam?

Like a chimney hurling cough to cloud over all that is obscene.

Meet my kind

Corners, made from paper

Restrict the very purpose they were created for; liberation.

You tell me, I need to be worthy of an education to gain one?

I tell you, even the intellectual, wonder of a parallel universe

With validation sought only after death, with work praised only after there is no secondary thought to explain!

To be known, to be glorified! To this narcissistic fantasy to hit a home run

With brainwaves neglecting their own migraines.

Imagine the space you were in, was empty. Blank. Plain.

Did you? Then strike! Strike lasers with open vision, hungry, insane, fed up with soot

Can you? Blast the whole goddamned place! Create your own disaster

Do you see it now? What difference does it make?

Wipe the dust off, call white vultures to eat thy rotten meat

Raise your hands up to the sky and for once, give it all instead of taking it in.


It’s as if cannibals

Poured salt over themselves and called it quits

On this ache without a surface

‌Sun-burnt for never getting out of this shade.

Faces buried in sand, think God.

And the ones meandering, think flood.

Printing numbers, foil and scrape

To gain luck and revenge on an eye for an eye

Truth for a lie

Another warning to defy?


Dream for me a spine erect to stand firm

When devastated with permanent kings arising from temporary homes

Flung me in, shove me back, anywhere

I need no home, no hearth, no drone


‌Too distant a world

To acknowledge mystery ‌‌

Bathing in an optical spectrum

As if they were ever going to find answers

In between

Facts and figures, findings; collecting abstracts!


‌People are afraid

Of the crippled and their wrecked fame


Shattered glass

Misaligned cartridges

Or beaten chains on a bicycle

Torn bags

Their transparency

Misdirection, calls home

To disaster

Stay away

‌ ‌‌

This dust devil

Grows into a gale

Like a spasm on a broken rib

Fighting an inward war

To reveal itself

In all four elements

Water with its whirlpool, air with hurricanes

Earth embarrassed of its roots


And you thought

Earthquakes were a natural phenomena

Plate tectonics showing indignation through wrath?


Lava wants to smell wildfires, meet its kind

‌‌I wonder if I can ever meet my own. See myself for all I owe, and all I’m owed.

I’m on my way, I’m not too far.