i live in between towers of glass plates, used and unwashed china, put to waste, sinks filled with mugs stained with coffee, rings of darkness lining their insides
ripped envelopes and love letters scattered over the counters, the words you never said with your mouth scattered over the page
and cold floors with broken glass, from the vases i smashed
the shower curtains are ripped, thrown on the tile, a white fabric in pieces, balled up in a corner
the...

 “If theology, as Asha claimed,” Professor Kalam began, “is the study of beginnings and endings, then it is the study of everything.” He paused, drawing a circle on the sand floor of the amphitheater. Morning light filtered through the red velarium. I blinked.  “We will focus on the protasis of this claim today then move on to the apodosis tomorrow. Can anyone offer a counter argument?” I scribbled the words protasis and apodosis on my slate, intending to look them...

Shall the water tide, be near?
close enough to hear
the water warring against the sand?
A small natural symphony, be white noise band.

Leave the moon to stay afloat
on a magic, waterless boat,
see the cool liquid, drip down, down, 
onto a bigger body, bigger than the air coat. 

May the golden, orange sky stay still, 
light gliding down the mountain hill, 
simmer, sizzle all path it covers
with beauty, glimmer, and more to discover. 

Flatly, back to back...

Chop-stick
two not-hollow sticks 
both thicker than picks, 
smooth as peas,
put it down your throat
and it'll make you really sick, 
not from the horns of goats, 
nor made of fabric like coats
it's really just two pieces of, 
wood, metal or bamboo.
Think of it as a present to food, 
which in turn is a present to you, 
and if only people knew, 
it's merely poles in twos;
it can be really long, 
it can be really short,  ...

Lives of kids—so young lost
essence of joy, and future floating out of a inanimate body
because of a pierce,
sent directly from hatred. 

Families ruined, 
falling down the spy-glass of despair, 
dripped with the dried blood of their child.

One day, they were saying goodbye for just a school day,
the next goodbye for eternity. 
After waiting hours, upon deafening time for the fate of their beloved,
To get news, that is a matter of life and death. 

The...

Have you ever considered trying to drink ink? 

I'm seriously thinking about it. 

I have absolutely no idea why I would want to. 

But I'm intrigued by the unknown. 

So with that fact in mind I will venture forward. 

And try the blue stuff in my pen.

On the floor, there is a puddle
of my thousand fruitless tears.
A clouded, salted swamp on white tile;
vacant; 
translucent surface scattering my hazy reflection
into a thousand empty fragments.

One slice of my figure
for every tear you coaxed from my eyes
for every lash you hurled gently at my back;
this is the way it has been
and will always be, for

when a person is gone, they disappear into the void of time / and are,...

i could fall in love with a breath
a poem
or moment of unrestrained laughter

all it takes is a glance
an embrace
one too many late-night whisperings

i could fall for a handshake
a voice
a shared pause in someone's day

all i need is a secret
or a memory
two dreams of what could be

i could fall into you

Pineapples are green, grapes or red
The sky is blue and the ocean is white
Your hand was warm and so was mine
The breeze was cold but the sun was hot
My skin was burning, turning to ashes,
falling to the sand by the shore
Sand is white, the shore is bright
The breeze is green, the sun is red
Colors engulf my heart
The water is cool, but the sand is hot
The shells are sharp, but the...

Tomorrow I will think about a dream for you but now I light this match on fire to

stare into your pain. You’re a morning without a world to wake up for. I whisper my idea of you
and between my lips a rose forms. Thorns. Little flowers that kill.

Did you know they wrote a fairy tale about you? My name is on the cover. I freeze up every time your letters curl up in my face, but you’re...

 “If theology, as Asha claimed,” Professor Kalam began, “is the study of beginnings and endings, then it is the study of everything.” He paused, drawing a circle on the sand floor of the amphitheater. Morning light filtered through the red velarium. I blinked.  “We will focus on the protasis of this claim today then move on to the apodosis tomorrow. Can anyone offer a counter argument?” I scribbled the words protasis and apodosis on my slate, intending to look them...

Have you ever considered trying to drink ink? 

I'm seriously thinking about it. 

I have absolutely no idea why I would want to. 

But I'm intrigued by the unknown. 

So with that fact in mind I will venture forward. 

And try the blue stuff in my pen.

On the floor, there is a puddle
of my thousand fruitless tears.
A clouded, salted swamp on white tile;
vacant; 
translucent surface scattering my hazy reflection
into a thousand empty fragments.

One slice of my figure
for every tear you coaxed from my eyes
for every lash you hurled gently at my back;
this is the way it has been
and will always be, for

when a person is gone, they disappear into the void of time / and are,...

Tomorrow I will think about a dream for you but now I light this match on fire to

stare into your pain. You’re a morning without a world to wake up for. I whisper my idea of you
and between my lips a rose forms. Thorns. Little flowers that kill.

Did you know they wrote a fairy tale about you? My name is on the cover. I freeze up every time your letters curl up in my face, but you’re...

Yes me. No one else but me. Just me and only me. 

I am an old soul imprisoned within a 14-year-old child's body. I may seem young but life has decided to come at me early. 

My name is Basti, however, I prefer to be called Rain. I am a pluviophile, hence my name. I live in the land of The Long White Cloud (feel free to Google what this means), a place full of mana, hopes and dreams. 
I...

She was planted as a seedling no more than a sprout and she grew and grew and grew. As the sun shone on her, she bathed in its rays absorbing each one in the beauty of her leaves with not a single care or worry in the world for she were young and small. She did not know what she was to face for she was too young to understand that on every rose is thorns some more than others...

[You're scrolling along the Internet, bored as usual, and come across the Official Texan Recruitment Website. Curious, you take a look.]

Looking for a change of scene? Move to Texas! There are so many wonderful reasons, including but not limited to:

Size!
We gotta start with the obvious one--Texas is big. We are the second-largest state in the USA in terms of both landmass and population. We're so big we have our own power grid (most states rely on other...

I'll say hello and they'll say goodbye,
but then I'll say hello again,
even if they only want a goodbye.

But then it hurts because I only wanted to say hello,
I'm not as clever as anything they'll throw.
But for them, the only thing they wish for is a goodbye.
Then I tell myself, "you tried".

Goodbye's always cut deeper than a knife, 
What was the point of my life?
A hello will always soon lead to a goodbye, ...

I listen to the same song, waiting for it to raise my ego. Waiting for me to love myself like I always had. But is it truly possible when I'd gone to the point of no return? Nobody can love themselves when they'd shredded their heart into minuscule pieces, not you, not me. 

I don't get how I expect myself to love myself when I messed up this bad. With my friends, I was such a failure that they didn't...

“Take down the tapestry,
The threads are bare and broken now;
Hide it from sight with lock and key
And, never more, I, solemn, vow,

Will I ever see those colours bright
That, with my Love, I gently weaved;
How sore and sour turned the sight
Of joy and strength, when heart's bereaved?

Away! You threads of red dyed twine,
You bright and strong strings of my heart,
Lest watered down, my tears, your shine
Divest, dilute to ruined art”
...