[x]

m i r r o r m i r r o rmy mirror is filled with photos of little boys who grew into men, best friends who faded into the shadows, and one young girl who is faulty and flawless and just trying to be.

gambler's fallacyone.
anxiety polarizes
a fear of being alone
with a fear of ruining what i have;
like king midas, except what i touch is gold already
and i make it dust.

two.
"hey--hey!
i don't like that look.
stay here."

his lips brush my forehead,
his fingertips, my hair.

he knows me better
than i am willing to know myself.

three.
your fingertips on my shoulderblades
speak in a language only you and i can understand.

i am who i have always wanted to be
when i get to hold your hand.

four.
i meet his parents in the dark
after six hours in a van
bleary-eyed and unprepared
just glad to be off the road.

his mother doesn't say anything: w

People.i.
There was once a mad man who sat on trains and wailed about his dead love.
No one laughed
but no one listened either.

ii.
See that freak right down the corridor, smiling and crying at the same time?
His eyes are voids and his hair the colour of his pain.
That's a man without skin.

iii.
Headlines: Drunk school girl murders seven classmates.
Could've been anyone.

iv.
Broken soldiers march on.
What they care about the most lies in the pocket closest to their hearts.
It is also riddled with bullets and dust.

v.
Blinded lovers might be considered lucky.

conclusionsi wake up to the sound of january 3rd and you
remind me of how litchi juice tastes like an
open wound in my mouth. i remember how
we were blackcurrant on each others' tongues
in july
but only sound like static now

like tuning the radio out
after your favourite song has
ended.

[violins. singing bowls.]

december ended and i started to meditate
again. i tuned out of gigahertz and

.waiting.

for your reflection to find my eyes again
and now i am at the lakeside, the jetty,
the quay. i am meditating and the water's
edge is waiting for you to exist again

[touching his fingertips
to his lips]

somehow in

Let's be young.There is a teenage girl in the bathroom stall,
bleeding out her emotions on the wall with a permanent marker
And there is a teenage boy watching his best friend
whisper love against another boy with her eyes.
So let's be five,
when just a quarter of the sun was needed
to make a picture bright.

There is a teenage girl in the bathroom,
trying to tell herself it's okay to be pretty
And there is a teenage boy watching his mother
whisper love against her new number one man.
So let's be seven,
when the moon followed us in the car
as we drove at night.

Let's be ten,
when it was just one year away until we
received our Hogwarts

i did.i.
there is
a
vintage lace dress
that once was
white like
chinese rice
yellowing in the depths of my
closet
with a burgundy
stain in the shape
of
a
wilting rose
hidden between

to love. i wish for you, sometimes,

waitinghe spends his days chasing seagulls and singing to the songs in his headphones. he dances when he should be working and works when he should be laughing, but his eyes are the same shade as his hair in the morning and he knows who he is. he knows that rain is cliched but he doesn't want it for love or dancing or sorrow, he wants it for the way it flattens the clothes to his skin and the way it makes the leaves vibrant against withered clouds. he thinks in poetry and dreams in black and white, but he speaks of hope even though he knows how messed up the world is. he is still waiting for his second chance; he is still waiting for a reason; he is

traditionalismi am the unrequited
optimism of a generation sunk
by love drunk parental units
who value friendship over authority
and teach their children
nothing. i am desperate dysphoria,
slicked along the spines of whale-men
and elephant-women who think
one more chip will stave off the craving.
i am gay humans in Uganda, low castes in India,
the disappearing middle class of America --
each shrieking in harmony to the swelling
wallets of the rich and moral-less.
i am the present, atrophied and apathetic
to the siren song of the future.

comme des enfants.dear h.
i know i'm being ridiculous. of course i am. i mailed my fifth letter yesterday, and here i am starting my sixth. and you said to expect a three-day delay. and .. it's been three weeks. so. i know i'm being ridiculous. but i also know that a) there aren't enough ridiculous people in the world, and b) i couldn't care less.
x

dear h.
kaye and i went on a magical adventure today. well. it wasn't the magicalest. i mean, we went exploring, and we both got bugbitten and scratched and sunburnt and we tried to climb the tallest tree in the forest but we were too short to reach even the lowest branch, and we both fell in the swamp. but i

the last sad song on the radioyou want the truth? well, here it is.

eventually you forget. you forget which teachers taught which subjects, you forget their names and eventually you forget who they were at all. you forget the dates of wars, and who fought who and even who won - all the stuff you never learned, anyway, just memorized the night before.

you forget which english books you hated, and where you went for lunch, and you forget the lyrics to that one song that could conjure up all those memories. you forget which tests you passed and which you failed and if it really mattered in the end. you forget all the nights that turned into mornings, and you forget all the

the elephant in my bed.oblivious to the constraints of time,
january snowflakes wooed the wind with their waltz:
one two-three, one two-three.

still naive, our footsteps
were not afraid to disturb
our glittering white universe.

wordlessly, questions were asked and answered
so quickly that we soon became
both the matador and the bull.

my door was painted red,
and we tangoed against Time itself,
a euphoric cacophony of beautiful maybes.

shoes toppled like domino tiles.
neighbors awoke with bleeding hearts.
keys lay abandoned in the door.

ivory tusks:
- i'm leaving in july.

salvation:
- tell me in june.

Here comes the hurt
You say we fell in love on motorcycles. I thought it was the day we both hit our head hard under the piano, carving our names on the weakened legs and trying to hum the keys to ourselves that reverberated against our palms. But I like arguing about this because either way, we weren't thinking straight then.
I wish you would remember my nicknames and stop drinking cold tea at nights. I wish you'd wake up and smile instead of trying to figure out what day it is and maybe lose yourself in my eyes until you didn't care if weeks passed in that moment. There are so many things I list and toss in "SOS" bottles because I don't want you to know I'

Departures.I tell the quiet to sink into my bones
the way the music melts into my marrow
so the harmonics and the perfect fourths
may rest dormant in my veins.

The birdsongs in my lungs are
enamored of my breast; they
wait for late departures in the
train station of my heart.

Unfinished melodies and sonatas--
merely hiccups of my mind--
lie whispering in the paper-thin
walls between my ears.

Cold catches hold of me, my skin
to winter's skin as the last of the
swan songs nestles into the
darkness of my ribcage.

I tell the quiet to sink into my bones,
enamored of my breast; it
lies whispering in the paper-thin
darkness of my ribcage

A life. - Draft OneHear me read it!

We were thrust, unexpectedly, into a tumultuous and decaying world. I refused to open my eyes because all about me were tears and screaming. Her voice was clinical, cynical and cold. See no.. Hear no.. With a shy, initial grasp for breath I felt the tinge of sulphuric malignance infuse into my body. My body spasmed and my voice strangled out its first sound. What a sound. For my primitive mind it could have been enough to ward off my enemies. To purify the air and neutralise the suffocating hostility. It wasn't.

Sometimes they would laugh, which I understood to be hurtful.. but with a curious glance in their direction I rea

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breaking benjamin.dear benjamin,

remember that one time when we were playing hide and seek and i hid in the dryer, and then the door shut, and i started running out of air? i really thought i was going to die all alone, but i guess you 're a better seeker than i was a hider.

but, you know, i didn't even like hide-and-go-seek. i only played cos i liked how your eyes lit up when you found me.

x,
blue

-

dear ben,

remember that one time when we went to the playground late late at night and went on the swings? we sang our hearts out to the moon, the stars. we stayed out past our bedtimes and no one knew.

but, you know, ever since you left, i don

only love can break your heart i was packing for university, going through my closet – and found a small wooden box. i opened it, and found a thousand faded memories.

i.
a littleboy valentine from the boy i loved in grade two. the lace edges are torn, but the careful cursive letters stating his everlasting love are as bright as they were when they could still light up my heart.

ii.
a broken crayon from the first boy i kissed. he held my hand and told me i was pretty in the way that only a twelveyearoldboy can, and on my birthday he gave me a crayon the exact color of my eyes.

iii.
a stuffed toy my first real boyfri

w h i s p e r              Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say,
       Like little children sleeping, we can dream this night away.
                               [paint splatters covering the walls]

joie je danserai de joie,
et pour l'éter

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r.a.i.n.r.a.i.n.

by ~WanderingHere, Jul 30, 2010, 1:39:38 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

_{i
[finally]
changed all my plants
to cacti.
now they won't die
if i forget
to care for them
too.}

r.a.i.n.r.a.i.n.by ~WanderingHere

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

_{rain rain go away.}

~MehreenFreed Jan 20, 2011 Hobbyist Photographer

This is fantastic. You put well chosen words together very expertly that they deliver the idea, the message, the feeling that you meant to convey.

Very well done.

~WanderingHere Jan 20, 2011

_{thank you so much!}

~MissSarah15 Jan 19, 2011

^{You have been featured here: [link]}

~WanderingHere Jan 20, 2011

_{wow, thank you so much!}

~MissSarah15 Jan 20, 2011

^{You're welcome, lovely. (; <3}

~MissSarah15 Jan 19, 2011

^{You have been featured here: [link]}

~the-photographicpoet Dec 18, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

Hey

You have been featured in the A,B,C's of Literature Christmas Special II

Hope you enjoy the feature and have a lovely Christmas

~WanderingHere Dec 19, 2010

_{thank you so much! <3}

~Miseria-Cantare Dec 17, 2010

Perfect. Simple and to the point.

~WanderingHere Dec 17, 2010

_{thank you so much.(:}

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