i deep my mind
in sauce of half-breed truth

who told there was another road?

we all are walking it the same
though we are different

there is no way
to fail without moving

and move without fail.

sometimes i live more days
than you would care to count

without lesser sense
who else is there to fight

for me

my war

some call it path

but it's just me
who's here to stand more winters
than the history itself could write.

i don't know if i dare
to look away
another time
we find each other
in the nest of crowd

two white crows
you and me or me and you

what broken-winged can do
when all we need
is height?

if you fall low
no doubt
you'll find me there
as well.

i seek you in the Moon
blindfolded
in the dark

i seek you on the side
in torture
sad
and drunk

i seek you like no one
with passion
stirring heart

i seek you every time
i lose the sight of life.

this scorch on the edge
of each cell in my body

feels like
i've never been kissed before

feels like I hover,
soaring high and yet crawling so low.

and if i am mere shade
that freezes the water of the Atlantic

than what is this scorch
that burning like flame

keeps searing the flesh of my heart?

how often all we do
is walk alone
to meet the cloudless future
somehwere -
together

but if you walk alone
then maybe
future is not ever
meant to be a promise
for together?

alone can last forever
and so it does
if one learns cuddle safe in it.

greatness - what have you offered
to the kneeled before your ghostly shape

it made nothing to us, but show
how low will be our grave

honestly, I care so little for it each day
greatness is a climo
you and I were born to wear.

i keep my prose
among candy wrappers
and broken bottles of wine

in the sour reality
of the evenings

in someone's house
where no one even cares to try

i keep it
between dirty depths
and in misty parts

in other words,
i keep it where 
only broken hearts
can find.

you are my version 
of the lake
where all the fish 
goes under bottom

and dies there
with a vicious swish
grieving for the blue 
of raging ocean.

one day, when words are dead
and are forbidden sounds

we will discover other ways
to share our mutual desires

when all the lamps go blindly dark
and we forget to build the fires

we will discover other paths
to follow heart in godly silence.

it is not the worst to live in diamond prison
with bound wrists
tiptoeing on the ground of bones

the worst is loss
unfounded yet so brittle
loss of things you never even searched.

is it raining?

or is it just my tears?

i drowned before,
no problems

this bottom feels
like muddy bridge to limbo

i now know
it is my future home.

this world is one gigantic room

feels like there are no windows
to see it through

but anyway

each star above
is soul of poets

who lived and died
so many times
on lines of their rhythms

in vain attempts
to tell you their stories

tragic ends

and maybe teach you some.