Have you seen the notions

formed in the words of a poet,

have you learned how to speak

the language of writers,

the subtle expressions

to liberate certain feelings,

simple hello,

jolly face,

you know a lot about the veins

that run deep,

deeper than midnight mornings,

you know how to break

a heart or two,

it seems we enjoy the pain of biting lips,

it is always intentional.


Learning how to feel the truth

by hearing a lie,

that’s  precisely the only way

that one could learn how to die.


You will be yourself some day

once you realize how much of yourself

was afraid to show up,

some day that you will realize

you didn’t intentionally open

the canal path.


You will learn to speak the

language of regret,

the pain of not contouring

will finally make sense,

split up as we least happened

and that’s identical to the truth about stars –

even when they are away

we know that we will meet again some day.


Silence would no longer linger the smoke,

and you remember what’s on your mind,

and the question will loop forever,

getting closer everyday that you talk,

dancing around the things a little longer,

unfortunately, the poem doesn’t end with

a happy ending.


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