Starboy

I’m a growing
Icelandic shark
all grown-assed, I can
admit now
I have multiple heads

one that smells of
merlot and noir
another full of cold-
blooded diamonds
& often times under the moonlight
it seems, as if the eyeballs
have been sharpied
inside the sockets

I’m still learning how
to hold a hand and
walk through
or drink the leftover
blood from the skull
of others

my hands don’t warm
me and I like slipping
out of myself
often, leaving no hands
to take the lead &
puppet me

my dreams feel like
being sucked into
the sky & I lift, but
it is so quiet.
shhh…
I can hardly breathe

please, hold my hand.
it is such a pleasure
to be not dead and
walking through
this place, with you.

It’s 3 in the morning

It’s 2 AM

his tired eyes are
wide awake
shining
from realizing
a dream

he slows down
his breathing,
controlling.

his fingers
doing their own
thinking
type furiously
on the keypad.

the dreams.
the plan.
the possibilities.
the outcomes.
every tiny explanation
his soul provided

and was made up of.

Legacy.

It’s 3 AM

his tired eyes
are dead
but his dreams
now have
a structure of words.

forever alive
in his fingertips.

Fault is mine

the truth is
that the fault is
mine

i wished
to touch the moon
at every chance
i got

asked for the sky
when i still
stood on the ground

hoped that
the flowers will
grow on rocks
someday

searched
every night
for fragrance in
thorns

longed for fire
to cool me
down

kept looking for
warmth in
the land of
ice

hoped
that every single
dream i ever had
will come
true

i was destined
to be
broken

and the truth is
the fault is

mine.