“Fázom, vagy csak az üresség az, ami ennyire hideg?”

- részlet a slamemből

Bánom az elszalasztott időt.
Bánom az időt, az elszalasztott.
Bánom az elidőzött szalasztást, a szálakat az időben, időből a végtelenbe,
De a szálak nem futnak össze sose.

Na…
Így keletkeznek a párhuzamok az univerzumban.
És a szivárványok, mik nem jutnak át a végtelenbe,
Így az időből felfelé menet lekonyulnak a szomszéd kertjére.
Így ragyogott volna, ha a büszkeség le nem húzza.

Mert a megbánás legnagyobb ellensége a büszkeség.

Világos rosszullét,
Én a sötétben virágzom,
Magányt szül a boldogtalan.

Ketrec a kitaszított madárban,
Szíve magában,
Egyedül repülni felesleges.

Világtól való rosszullét,
A legszebbek sötétben virágoznak,
Magányban ülve boldogan.

Hegy a domb, hol fejed az égbe verted.

Felhőbárány rétre festve.
Üvegcseppek mossák le,
S a térdemig gurul összetörve.
Az összes megpuhul.
Szilánkos tenyeremben az álmod felvirul.
Percre az enyém lehet,
Majd kezem patakjában higanyként elcsobog.

Felhőbárányrétre kifektetve,
Üvegcseppektől meggyötörve,
S térdedig gurulok.
Átlépsz rajtam, szemed könnyű gyöngyét letörölve,
Higany testem nehéz bánatát a föld szívja fel.

Mindenkinek más a jó.
Másmiért és máshol.
Mert mindenhez emlék köt, mit eddig tapasztaltál.
Egy szál.
Mennyi íz, érzés és emlék.
Csak egy szál volt,
Egy év után.
Mintha semmi sem történt volna.
Mintha még mindig itt lennél.
Mintha mindent rendben tudnék.

Mintha.

Emlék minta,
Szúrós pokróc betakarva.
Le kéne dobnom.
El kéne dobnom.
Űrt tölt egy szál,
Füstje a ködbe száll.
Csend.
Hajnali 2.
Azt hiszem ideje bemennem.

Mikor elmentél nem sok mindent hagytál.
Maradt a zűr, bennem az űr
És mindezeken felül a keserű öntudat és felismerés.
Mindenben van valami.
Te voltál a minden és maradt a valami.
Az a maréknyi semmi.
Néhány kósza hajszál a régi díszpárnába fűződve.
De nem több.
Ennyi maradt belőled.

De ki vagyok én, hogy elutasítsam a változást?
Hisz te könnyen vetted.
Minden új.
Elengedem a kezed.
Itt az időm.
Ég veled.

Ismételten elmenekültem a szívedbe,
De már semmi sincs rendbe’.
Ugyanazt a szobát kapom.
Kosz, ágy vetetlen.
Nekem mindig lesz hely
És számítani is fogsz a visszatérésemre.
De ez nem ugyanaz.
Maradnék, de azt mondod vár rám egy másik szálloda.
Még a padkán ücsörgök.
Csak lesz valami..

A thought

I think

That I know

That my thoughts

Are in my control

Till I think

Then my thoughts

Are scattered and silently

Loud, all at the same time

What a place it is

Inside this mind

(A)maze

I dont think I’m alone

I’m just alone in my thoughts

Behind these eyes

Is a maze in which I am lost

But behind your eyes

I see only you

So I’m clawing my way out

To get lost in you

the water that douses the flame

you posted her. a girl, i don’t even know. you posted her on your story so i made up one. i recorded your story and when you asked me about it, i proceeded to lie and say it was an accident. an accident. a mistake. just like it was a mistake to fall so hard for you. you know i’m in love with you and yet you still can’t even fathom it. you can’t fathom how deeply i love you, how if i were to lose you i would cry for days until there was nothing left. i would cry and cry. but i won’t. i will not lose you. because losing you would mean the end of the world, because you are my world. you consume my thoughts day after day, week after week, minute after minute! i walk to class, my mind filled with thoughts of you, not paying attention to where my feet are going, but to the thoughts of you in my head. i sit in a lecture and find myself thinking of you. i make conversation with my teacher and classmates but i don’t remember what happens. i answer the questions correctly but i can’t retain the information. i close my eyes and i see you.

when you post a girl on your story who is beautiful and you say she is your heart, a tiny fire of jealousy starts in my chest, it grows and grows the more air i breathe and the only way to put it out is by talking to you, the water that douses the flame.

Had the pleasure of being booked to perform with my pals Loud Poets in November at the Storytelling Centre in Edinburgh, Scotland: this video is me performing one of my poems, ‘Psalm 136’ accompanied by the brilliant Jack Hinks.

Psalm 136

I love the way you look.

I love the way you look when your laying next to me.

You have a look of content, your breathing is more calm and you have a soft smile that lingers on your lips.

I love the way you look when you’re driving.

Your demeanor changes to a more concentrated state, but your eyes will wonder to catch a glance of me laughing at something I’ve read, your hand will find its way to my thigh and trace designs.

I love the way you look when you wake up.

Your features hold a child like innocence to them, as you rub your eye your other hand lazily finds my body and pulls it just slightly closer.

I love the way you look when you talk about me.

Your eyes crinkle slightly as your smile widens, you talk about something we did last week, you slowly move closer to me, wrapping your arms around my smaller frame, you look down at me as you finish the story, and that’s the look I love the most.

I love they way you look at me.

I love seeing the emotions you hold for me I’m your soul, I know when you look at me all that you care about is that I’m looking back because I feel the same way, and every time it takes my breath away.

If you don’t love me any more, let me know.

Tell me if you don’t feel that spark when we kiss.

Tell me if you don’t get giddy over seeing me.

Tell me music doesn’t remind you of me anymore.

Tell me if seeing her takes your breath away.

When did you stop smiling while talking about me.

When I look at you I see every star in the universe in your eyes.

The marks on your skin remind me of the galaxies.

Your smile reminds me of the moon, how even in the darkest of times, I still, will always have you.

Sometimes I think my life was only made by you

“You like to fix people. Its what you’re good at.” He says this with honesty twisted into every syllable.

I feel my insides tie into a knot of confusion and anger, “if I’m so damn good at fixing things why am I still broken? Why can’t I figure out why I’m always so fucking sad. Why I can’t even go out in public without my chest tightening up. Every time so one even breathes on me, I feel my skin crawl and set a blaze. I can’t ever be with someone because all I imagine is the fact I couldn’t even trust my best friend because he stole my innocence how the hell am I supposed to trust someone I’ve only known for a few months. I suck at fixing things. Something broken can’t fix anything!” I scream the last part as if I’m talking to the void that consumes me.

He grabs my hand and makes me look at him, “that’s the problem, you can’t fix something that isn’t broken.”

Maybe I am okay

All of these stars, they all have a reason to be here.

All of them were made for the universe.

All of them shine a certain way and hold a different purpose.

Just like people, we just forget that we all have a purpose.

Our minds haze over the fact that we made it here.

We took our first breath and the universe wanted us.

I think the stars are the people the universe loved the most.

The brighter the star the more important the person was to the universe.

Or maybe its the people who had a hard life, and the universe is apologizing for it.

When I look at the stars, I know you’re that brightest one.

It’s October and my ears still ring at the sound of your name.

You changed like the leaves falling off these trees.

You left me as cold as the air that chills me to the bone.

It’s October and my fingers still tighten around the steering wheel when I pass your home.

The weight of the pumpkin I carry reminds me of your body on mine.

The taste of pumpkin spice leaves the same taste of disgust in my mouth as I think of you.

It’s October and I saw you today.

The fear I felt in my lungs reminds of movies I shouldn’t watch alone.

The children playing in the park reminds me of the innocence you stole for me.

The fire’s you light to keep warm cannot compare to the fire of angry I have brewing in me.

It’s October and you still never said sorry for rapeing me.

The leaves remind of how dead I feel now.

The cold air reminds me that I am still alive and here.

The pumpkin won’t let me forget this weight I now carry.

Pumpkin spice flavor won’t let me forget how much I despise you.

The horror movies remind me that are just as much as a monster as any of the “bad guys”.

I yern to have the joys,of children, but you’ve ruined that for me.

The fire reminds me that I am stronger now, and you have not extinguished me.

I’m going to be okay.

broken words

9-6-20

excerpt from a poem i wrote

3-5-20

excerpt from a poem i wrote

23-5-20

25-8-19

28-2-20

26-4-19

a life in quarantine

30-4-20

26-5-19

thoughts by me

28-2-20

i don’t want to write about love anymore.
not after you.

i don’t want thousands of words
scribbled on paper
spitting on my face
mocking me.

i don’t want to be reminded
of the love
and of the hurt
and of the begging
that were only as fleeting
as you were.

our forever was supposed to be longer.

enough.

it hurts enough to physically manifest itself in the throbbing corners of my chest

enough to let gravity get a hold of my eyes

enough to force me out of a stable state of mind

enough to push me into the corners of the bed, shaking

enough to revive all the thoughts i have long fought to forget

enough to make me feel like i wasn’t, i was never, i will never be

enough.

once upon a summer, a boy once told me how he takes his bath in the morning.

“i do not start with the feet,” he said. i made a face and he laughed.

“it’s true. i do not work my way up. instead, i surprise myself. i start immediately with the head and i don’t think twice about it. otherwise, it would leave room for doubt. and doubt never gets me cleaned up and showered, does it? so every morning, whenever i take a bath, i just dive in…head first.”

i couldn’t believe it. a boy, at a summer review center, literally just told me how he takes his bath every morning. and there i was thinking he was a cosmic intervention. a revelation. an epiphany of sorts.

of course. it all makes sense now. it didn’t matter that he had no way of knowing if the water was excruciatingly cold or painfully hot. it didn’t matter that he had no idea whatever was going to happen next. it didn’t matter that he didn’t think well and twice about his choices. it never did. because that’s life. that’s the whole goddamn point. to take risks, to gamble, to jump at every first chance. to dive in…head first. and just hope for the best.

they call it reckless. i call it faith.

sometimes when it rains, i think of you
how i used to wrap my arms around you
but also, because it reminds me
of every teardrop i have shed for you

sometimes when it’s dark, i think of you
how i used to love touching you
but also, because it reminds me
of our dark days that are now behind me

and every time i wake up, i think of you
how i used to wake up next to you
but also, because i’m reminded
that you defiled me on this very same bed.