A Thousand Jigsaw Pieces

I still have that heart you gave me.

You remember, the heart that you transmogrified

into a thousand jigsaw pieces;

The pieces that apparently could not fit your conception of love;

The pieces that you threw around

as if you were testing the limits of my sorrow;

The pieces that became more pieces and more pieces

and more pieces by your machete-like words.

I call you the butcher!

For hacking into my stitched heart

and scooping out its insides like a pumpkin on Halloween.

Except unlike on Halloween,

There was no candle lit within it—only atrous emptiness;

There was no carved smile that simulated blissful sentiments—

only facelessness;

And,

There was no pumpkin—only remnants.

—-

I still have that heart you gave me.

You remember,

The heart that you transmogrified

into a thousand jigsaw pieces.

The Beating Universe

I want to hold you.

I want to hold the planets

in the beating universe

within your chest.

And breath new life into them—a new home.

—-

I want to to make them rotate as elegeant as you walk.

I want to push them into orbit

and rouse a revolution upon your heart.

—-

I want to gaze at your beauty

and watch the sun blaze

within your eyes.

I want to touch you

and form constellations on your skin

with my fingertips

—-

I want to save you from the comets that follow you,

from black holes that swallow you.

And when all is done,

I want to pick the remains of your supernova blast

and reconstruct you with my own beating universe.

The mind of unrest

In my mind

I cannot find

The reasons to depart,

So I dwell with might

My self-made plight:

The phobia in my heart.

I saw your necklace.

Its rope-texture on your neck.

Goodbye forever.

Oh how beautiful!

The calm face, gentle eyes—of

Her pale, dead body.

There on midnight moon,

I saw the ashes fly past—

The ashes of you.

There is no fixed, ideal ideology; there is only the evolution of it, and it is us that decides the speed of its procession.

On days of darkness

You’re light shines away the black

Within this cold corpse.

Death in disguise

I know that in the end

we will find one another.

And when I find you…

…we’ll lie together;

I’ll place my hand on your heart

and rip it—apart.