We are a formula for disaster

love vs lost vs hope vs idontloveyouanymore

what is this?

our connectionconnection is fading

just uttering a beep

in the lonely hospital room

with a low chance of survival.

Who do you hope will revive us?

Love vs lust vs infatuation.

Like a pin prick, the rush is overwhelming.

I am sorry.

Hate vs love vs depression vs lack of.

What do you expect me to have?

Hate + loneliness + you = disappointment

I know what they mean now.

I seem to combine the ingredients that backfire.

You + me = ?

You + her = ?

You can never know the outcome.

That’s the problem with chemistry

Until you know the perfect amount

You’re mixing aimlessly,

Stirring numbers in a limbo

And it’s a little too late to stop when the mixture has already erupted.

x + y vs a + b

you x me vs me - you

The solution is never simple.

Wednesday 24th February 2010

mysteries about love

We towed the truck to the junk yard
And hiked our way to the next beach.
You did not press your fingertips into the sand
And you said
“I don’t hold onto the grains of sand
Because they fall away eventually”

We glided our toes along the sand
And they danced on my skin,
Each particle a brush of paradise.

I realised the world doesn’t owe me
And I don’t owe it.

These are the lessons you learn.

Monday 15th February 2010.

stillborn by slyia plath

“These poems do not live: it’s a sad diagnosis.
They grew their toes and fingers well enough,
Their little foreheads bulged with concentration.
If they missed out on walking about like people
It wasn’t for any lack of mother-love.
O I cannot explain what happened to them!
They are proper in shape and number and every part.
They sit so nicely in the pickling fluid!
They smile and smile and smile at me.
And still the lungs won’t fill and the heart won’t start.

They are not pigs, they are not even fish,
Though they have a piggy and a fishy air -
It would be better if they were alive, and that’s what they were.
But they are dead, and their mother near dead with distraction,
And they stupidly stare and do not speak of her.”

dear doctor

dear doctor,
i fear i have no clue what i'm after.
the headaches, the nightmares.
the sweats, the aches.
all i do is tremble,
all i do is shake.

i'm aware of the world moving in circles,
and in my head they collide like a car crash.
i know i am ill-fated,
my symptoms out-dated.
but these nuisances are real.

the passing night is faded purple.
i know of no other blanket
so enchanting, so deceiving.
they invite me into death,
with every dream i fight for breath.

rapid movements in my sleep,
my body temperature sizzles.
i feel the words escaping my lips,
the run past my fingertips.
no control
and then i am awake.
so cold
and all i can do is shake.

i am drenched,
my t-shirt sticking to my skin.
i am so cold
and my dream is now old.

you see doctor,
these nightmares consume.
pity,
they chose me.

-11th august 2010