CHAPTER 1

    A Box

    I want to put away this crazy amount of love I have
    for you in a box,
    close it, and send it out to a desert.
    There,
    no one will find it, and hopefully, an animal will eat
    it.
    I wish you were a fish
    so I can pull you out of the water and know that,
    right then and there, your life will end.
    It's a dark world.
    You were the moon and sun in mine.
    They say
    every heartbeat is different.
    Then why is it that I still feel yours beat against
    mine?
    How can someone love the amount I do and, on the
    other side of this love, feel hate?
    It's sad.
    It's miserable to know that if I had the chance to steal
    your heart, I would take it,
    make it mine forever.
    I would love that.
    My craving for you has just begun.

    I won't stop yearning until I reach the end of this
    long, dark tunnel.
    I walk in alone
    with no watch to look at the time
    or
    a single soul to comfort my isolation.
    I'm only wishing to myself you're at the end.

    Once upon a bright day in March, there was planted
    a flower by an angel,
    set to grow with every color of the rainbow.
    It grew strong and had more gleam than color.
    It rained every day only on that flower.
    It was blessed with strong leaves and a strong stem
    to withstand any hurricane.
    The world would look at it and would admire it.
    Some would even envy it.
    They called it forever.

    In the beginning, this flower depended on only two
    roots
    but, eventually, grew out to be one stem.
    With time, like everything else in the world,
    it started to develop a complication.
    One of those roots
    stopped growing,
    feeding energy off the sun,
    and had a strong lack of water.
    It started to abridge and look sad.

    Now it has no world.
    The one root that's left will slowly but surely vanish.
    Although it is dead,
    it still only feels the other's touch.
    It only misses it, and its days are gloomy.
    The colors are fading.
    How do I calm my flower's wrath of annihilation if
    you were the calm?
    Where could you have gone?
    I want to eat the flower;
    maybe then, it will not suffer anymore.
    I want to get a florist and ask for help;
    maybe then, it can live.
    I wish there was a way to let it live.
    The hands of the one who planted the flower are    guilty.
    It's all her fault.
    Now it's alone.
    Maybe it's for the best.
    Tell me a way to say this poem isn't true
    so I can go to the tallest mountain,
    stand with my chest out,
    smile,
    and say,
    "It was all a lie."
    I make lust.
    I envy
    with burning desire.


    A Good-Bye

    This pain is so deep.
    I love you,
    but you don't love me.
    This agony I feel to leave you
    behind
    is so strong;
    my mind can't bear
    this feeling.
    I love you so much,
    but
    you do not love me.
    I feel that if I don't leave you,
    I'm never going to be happy,
    and yet, this pain only grows stronger.
    Love, I cannot stop loving you,
    although you cannot love me.
    I've left you far behind and threw you deep
    down into the sea,
    but only in my mind
    because, in my heart,
    you're as animated as can be.
    I cannot believe I have loved you for so long,
    but you seem to never have loved me.
    Alcohol kills
    my liver.

    As I drink
    in a fine glass cup
    that has sharp edges,
    my lips begin to bleed.
    I have loved you for so long now,
    but you never once loved me.
    At times, I want to break
    the glass into bits,
    put it to boil with rice,
    take a few bites, and call it
    the end.
    For I do not want to live
    loving you,
    knowing you
    don't love me.
    I never had you because
    I once let you go,
    yet your return I await.
    I still do not have you today.
    I really only loved you,
    love,
    but it is just so sad that you
    really never loved me.
    "Good-bye," you said to me,
    and "Good-bye," I said to my life.
    Good-bye,
    love.
    I will always and forever love you.
    But I must remember,
    you cannot love me.


    Acquit

    I am done writing about you.
    I am sick of spending countless amounts of hours
    writing,
    crying about you.
    My bones hurt
    from trying to jog away the pain that I feel.
    My hands
    can no longer continue this depressing ballad
    that has only led to all the veins on my forehead to
    expand,
    causing massive headaches.
    This pain of torturing myself,
    like everything else in life, has reached its limit.
    I can't seem to be expressive enough
    that the extreme amount of love I felt for you still
    runs in my veins,
    but today, I'm cutting myself
    to let them out.
    These veins are hurting my life;
    my life is mine,
    only
    it was yours.
    I have to release all the resentment I feel for you.
    I have to pee out all my feelings
    so I can flush them away,
    have the rats of the sewer drink them up.

    I'm starting all over again with this beautiful
    sunflower God has blessed me with.
    I know I was guilty,
    but that didn't change anything.
    Now,
    after so many years of blasphemy against myself and
    my Lord,
    I've decided to let you go.
    This decision is final.
    My life
    is going to flourish like spring after winter.
    All the nights I've spent trying to figure out why the
    guilt won't go away,
    along with the feelings, I ended up finding
    everything.
    Since the days when I would drug myself up,
    take extra pills to forget you, I'm going to let all that
    has to do with you
    go.
    Now I breathe this beautiful blessing,
    and I, in her.
    Now there is no boundary between the love and
    me.
    I wanted to think that drinking myself away would
    bring you back,
    but like the cherries that grow back from the
    ground,
    I knew it would grow one day again.
    I wanted to believe that making love to other women
    would take you,

    along with every piece of guilt inside me,
    away,
    but this life is not made to live it lusting.
    Now I'm throwing you away like a broken hanger
    from the closet.
    You are just like it.
    You have no other place to go
    but somewhere where I won't see you again.
    Like a disease,
    you came and did your work;
    but like it,
    I'm telling you that my spirit has an armor made of a
    medicine called love
    that's going to take you away,
    build enough walls that you, or anything that has to
    do with you,
    can never enter my soul and cause as much damage
    as you already did.
    My migraines are being cured;
    my eyes have found a fountain.
    A deep hole was being dug on my skull, and my eyes
    were all dried up.
    This is my good-bye
    to what once drove my life crazy;
    my body,
    in self-destruct mode;
    my spirit,
    in suicide mode;
    my soul,
    in deep sorrow and gloom.


    Abandon

    Where do I live,
    If I can't go home?
    Dreaming awake,
    I wander on earth,
    Restless.
    Memories are all that's left.
    My fluffy pillow I shall miss,
    Caressing my sheets,
    Warming up my cheeks.
    I'm anxious.
    Give me my pills.
    The corners are wet tonight.


    Across from Me

    I feel abnormal.
    When you stand in front of me,
    It's a supernormal effulgent face
    with not a single flaw.
    Alongside that fact,
    the heart I carry within
    knots
    as it slowly yokes with yours.
    Am I clear?
    A gem in my presence
    who carried my loneliness to heaven.
    With a single peek
    of just one eye,
    I am astonished.


    Addiction

    Notice the air,
    it comes and goes,
    so softly it touches your face.
    Jimjams run down your spine.
    It leaves with no direction,
    leaving you staring into space.
    This is how stuck I am on you.
    I go to you without knowing where I'm going.
    Willies cover all of me without you.
    The touch I haven't felt in years
    aches my stomach; I want to puke,
    For I can go to you.
    No matter where you are, I will come.
    Like air that is inevitable,
    I am to you.


    All Alone

    This is how I see my love for you.
    In my mind,
    there was this really big, bold tree with all types of
    fruits.
    Every fruit had a letter of your name on it.
    Every branch,
    from the very smallest to the biggest,
    was a branch containing the massive amount of love
    I felt for you.
    This tree was invisible;
    it's going to last forever.
    The tree itself was a replica of you.
    It's a reason to believe,
    You will forever live inside me.
    I felt as if the love
    was more than love.
    It was similar to the amount of love
    God has for us.
    Why
    do I stay in such a horrible state of mind?
    Because I cannot stand every second I spend without
    you.
    Sometimes I wonder, Will I ever
    smell your scent or touch you again?

    I hate sleeping
    because it's the only place
    I see you and talk to you.
    I hate cooking;
    I know the person I want to eat my food
    will not ever know
    I made it myself.
    I hate looking at pictures.
    Every last one has a piece of you in them.
    I no longer want to breathe;
    the one person whom my heart beats for
    will never know how much love there is for her.
    I notice that, at times, I'd rather be in the dark;
    the light no longer is light without you.
    I wonder why,
    throughout the middle of each and every night,
    I sit on my bed and shed a tear for you.
    I stress my mind with all the stuff I could have
    done;
    how far we would have been in love with each
    other.
    How strong our relationship would have been by
    now;
    how strongly I miss having your presence near me.
    I can remember the last few days I saw you,
    like I watch TV,
    sitting on my couch.

    It is just as clear to me,
    that I can almost hear your voice
    as I remember.
    Our relationship
    was more than a gift to each other,
    for I am certain that somewhere, deep down in your
    heart,
    you still dream about me
    the same way I, deep down,
    so lonely,
    dream about you.
    This life just doesn't have a stop sign;
    it continues
    just the way I miss you.