who knew?

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there’s a blurred static picture on the television
and there’s a lit cigarette waiting to be put out by the
chair where I usually sit.
but I’m on the floor with my legs propped up on the wall
looking at the television screen upside down
feeling the air rotate its way down to me from the ceiling fan,
and make its way through my loose shirt, exposing skin sometimes, so I close it up when it does.
over and over.
the overcast clouds move my shadow on the wall from left to right
as it decides to let the sun take a peek at my skin.
it gets warm when it does.
here and there.
so there’s silence lingering around me, and the movement of the shadow is slow.
therefore, the essence of time disappears.
…for me at least.
and I slowly go in and out of daydreaming of driving down on a full cloudy day, with a chilly wind coming through my window, flowing through strands of my hair, and my eyesight becomes very narrow, and I can literally feel my mind shrinking focus onto only one thing, usually you.
usually memories.
and the world seems to only inhabit me at that exact time, and I feel it consume the important parts of me. so even though I’m the only one, I’m alone with minor parts of me that leaves me borderline empty. more so, my eyes reflect this, because they seem to take it the hardest. at least my skin is always glowy. see, there’s life in me, but my eyes pour the contrary statement onto my glowy skin. the lively glowy skin and it’s slowly dying with them. my skin with trace marks of your past presence on it.

anyhow, there’s this pool in the middle of Earth that depicts the exact image of what my internal system –probably what my stomach would look like– that I lay floating in, and I’m staring up to the thinly showcased sky wondering which breath is going to be my last, when the blood in my veins is going to cool down, and when my lips are going to start screaming for help.

it’s like that instance in life when we first figured out that staring into the light and closing our eyes would show us the same shape in colors of blue, green, black, red…
but you can’t say anything until you open your eyes.
or at least I couldn’t.
but this time I don’t want to close my eyes. I want to float away with the core in this pool.
I want for the keys in my favorite song to play on my spine and vibrate into my brain and echo into my ears.
I want my knees to stay align with the waves in the liquid substance.
all while driving down this road,
looking into my mirrors
looking outside my windows.
but being completely aware of what lane I am in, because I’m going home.
I wish to make it there, lay in bed, and remembers bits and pieces of me so I can put myself back together in my head.
maybe I’ll be less lost in there.

but the wind touches me so pretty and tells me to go around the block again.
and the cars are being repelled from my road somehow, so I am essentially alone.
I could close my eyes.
they feel closed but in fact, my eyes are wide open right now.
but I am already dreaming.
dreaming of me dreaming.
I was let in, welcomed, made comfortable with tea, so I’m going to stay while.
i’ll take my coat off.
i’ll wipe my eyes off, because somehow tears made themselves present.
i’ll smile. In my daydream.
because I hardly can in real life.
my eyes are dry in real life.
like the land where I live.
it hasn’t rained in awhile.
and the static from the television screen is turning more and more black.
it’s nighttime, and the ceiling fan turns off.
my shadow is gone.

and lately, that’s been what I think about but in reality I’ve been sitting at a red light.
zoned out.
unaware that there’s life outside of my head.
who knew?

it’s like my blinking sometimes puts my defenses down
and my mind makes like a vacuum entirely to all of me,
and poof– I’m gone.

sincerely, jdm.

I come running.

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I distinctly remember looking at you with such passion that my eyes quickly grabbed every feature on your face for safe keeping in memory.
And while putting it away, I remember my heart in full swoon that I was able to have you that near to me to look into your eyes and keep in secret that I saw tides and I saw the moon and I saw meteors collide and time ran down to absolute nothingness like sand from an hourglass that shattered in my hands and vanished mid-air.
But I was filled, my heart could burst. My chest felt full. Your embrace filled me, your presence made my blood rush and boil at the same time. My fists would clench, and my nerves would urge me to caress your skin for balance. So I did. And I felt you come closer and closer until you eventually put your lips on mine and my eyes shut slowly to eventually see this new scenery of mountain fog going over the peaks very quickly and my breath was taken away with it.
Your body heat  was so close to my own, that it multiplied. This was the only time I felt comfortable with sweat collecting on top my skin and rubbing to your skin.
Our bodies would coincide with each other, we were that alike and that different at the same time. Our hands would find their way to interlocking each other and then every move felt natural to follow up to, I felt all of you become one to me. But at the same time I was unaware if the feeling was mutual because my mouth would never ask. Only continue to kiss areas that I knew you’d enjoy my lips on. I thought that would be enough. Felt so. We were so alike and so different. Coexistence. There was no reflection of me in you, but there was you in me. We were one. We were alike. We were different.
Our breaths matched up but the feelings in our voices wouldn’t.

Still, I always want your voice to make its way to me again. The relief I’d feel to know it was enroute. I told you I hate when you say my name but because I hate the feeling in my stomach when you say it. Please understand. Directing yourself to me. To me only. You are saying things to me. Things that I don’t take lightly. Things that I consume and weighs heavy on my heart, first. Stomach, second. I feel that if I were to open my mouth at that time that the butterflies would spill out of me and scream love so loud and so often that you’d finally have no other choice but to understand and cope with why I respond to you like I do.
Sometimes I decide to be silent. Most times.
I let my body talk to you, and your body talk to mine.
Our conversations are heavenly. And I keep gathering these moments in my head. Certain instances where you are being expressive with your eyes, with your lips, with your voice, with your hands, and I try my hardest to scramble for a pen in my head and write it down like this story here.
I feel as if we’re on a train ride at times, because I feel here and there in a matter of 5 minutes to the hours that we are together and I look at the world different there on.

You change me, you’ve defined me wholely now.
I am the person I am now, because of you.
I yearn for you when I feel lost and anxious.
The nursing feeling in your voice when you say my name and when we say silly things to each other.
Your laugh.
The nerves in me chemically react so many emotions in my mind during those times, there’s probably much panic inside of me. My internal systems.

Sometimes I turn my cheek to let the butterflies go a few at a time, while the train continues to run.
I watch them go about over the fields that I imagine that they’d be happy to journey through.
Then we find ourselves venturing each other, when I turn my cheek back to you.
You kiss it, and things are hectic and pause altogether at the same time.
It’s the most fascinating thing next to pleasuring you.
Next to, you.
You and everything of you.
I neglect myself entirely to not neglect myself of you, because of the bliss you give to me.

I am afraid to make something of myself on my own, because I don’t know how to go back to being something without your voice echoing my name in my ears.
I want to keep the train going because there’s soothing in this ride.
I am afraid of things becoming nostalgic and only nostalgic to the point that they will feel made up sometime soon.
So would you care to continue giving me these experiences?
I need continue to have these escapades or I will find you plain one day and maybe the
colors that bleed out of me now will run me dry.
And I will eventually get up whilst you are mid-sentence and turn my back to you.
I don’t want that.

There won’t be you in anybody else, tell me that.
Assure me of that now, please.
I need the tides, the moon, the meteors, the sand, the colors, the blood to rush, the heart to beat, I need the butterflies, I need everything.
Consistently.
Until I am strong enough to know what to make of it.

I am afraid of nostalgia.
I am afraid of closing my eyes one day while you are saying my name, and feel nothing.
I need the sweat to continue to collect, I need the comfort, I need your eyes to provide the sceneries, I need our friction.

I am afraid of nostalgia.
I am afraid of new.
I am afraid of change.
I need to feel the train running smoothly at all times, I need the motion sickness to be blocked out by the love that you fill me with.

I am afraid of nostalgia.
I am afraid of new.
I distinctly allow myself to remember you swiftly once, and in detail the next.
Because you don’t give me consistency.
I never know when you are going to allow me to see you again.

I walk into nostalgia and then I feel you tug on my shirt and I run to you as soon as your body warmth is close enough for me to feel.
The sweat collects.
And I feel the absence and presence of gravity, the moon, and the tides behind me.
I hear them.
And I come running.

sincerely, jdm.

lost in translation.

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the leafs are changing again
and we’re in the same place
how crazy that the same heart that loves
can be the same one that hates
both require passion
both require space
both require you

you are your brain
your brain is you
your brain makes you conscious
your brain along with its nerves
feel when I graze my fingertips along
your back when you’re tired
and your face when you’re near

our mouths are only active when courageous
and I fall to shyness so I say little
but eyes can say things too, without a tongue
the same tongue that can spill out adoration
amongst words
can curse at you and wish bad things
but still can intertwine itself to another
in love or in hate
in love or in hate, my goodness
are you hearing this? It breaks me
the passion on the tongue spreads like a liquid substance
through your veins
that burns, and hurts, but feels like ecstasy
my goodness but the pain is avoidable, how absurd
how divine
it’s real, it happens

I have felt it,
I am sure of the feeling
it is as if you’re staring at the sun
and the stars simultaneously
they show themselves to you
and your skin absorbs it
every part of you feels like there is gravity absent and it can sure make you feel like it is very true
I have felt it
with you

the heart always receives blame
but it is our eyes that are seeing
the leafs change and our brain
puts the picture together for
the realization that we are in the same
damn place that we were in last year
and grief pushes onto us because
we are so lost
so so lost

and we want to do things right so badly
but our brain wants our nerves to feel
the sensation of fingertips running on our
skin so the brain leads your fingers on
his skin

and his skin is so soft
and love is spilling out of you in various places
and it is hard to contain yourself
live falls in the floor and so do you

I hope we learn our lesson sooner than later
because the floor is hurting and our mind has got itself going insane
and it is blaming the heart
but the poor heart is only pumping blood to it
with hope that one day it will stop and learn
its lesson before it cannot pump further

we leave a lot of words trapped on the tip of our tongues
wouldn’t you say? don’t speak
your words chastise me
they’re so drowning and it’s bad because I want to swim in them but I shouldn’t these waters roar
These tongues will place themselves on one another so that we may not be expected to
exchange how we feel
but let our bodies say
but it is our brain leading our whole selfs into these situations
and we damn our mouths and tongues
and hearts
and everything
when it should be our thought process

the one that began with a twinkle in the eyes
that made your blood boil in your heart
and your brain shattered leadership amongst
every inch of you to walk yourself into
a big mess
a big big mess
because you are being controlled
by minor parts of you
and you are falling apart

in the name of love
but he tastes so sweet
and lovely.

sincerely, jdm.

things that my eyes say, but my mouth won’t.

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It’s not fair that I see fields of the greenest pasture in your eyes and you only see the brown in mine
Are you looking hard enough?
Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking

Thinking about you drives me to and from confusion and disappointment
Steadily.
Over and over.

But I refuse to move. You aren’t good for me
But I can be for you.
So why be selfish?
Stay.
Don’t move.
That’s what I do.

You haven’t conquered me but you’ve conquered my mind
You’ve made it your home
Without asking if I could make space for you
But now you’re the sunlight peering in from
my window in the morning while the song I had playing last night into my sleep repeats itself but in a non-melancholy way as opposed to the night before
where I could hardly keep myself composed
In thought that you’re the only person that gets me because I let myself be gotten by you because I wanted you
I want you

So why be selfish?
Stay.
Don’t move.
That’s what I do.

Time is something we don’t have
And we’re always chasing the sun
And the moon
Then the sun
And moon
Like we expect for the moon to pick to come first one day miraculously and the sun second

It’s the oddest thing because we like consistency and hate change
But we want change so badly sometimes
Because we dislike that consistency

You’re a poem that’s easy to love in the first line and easy to hate by the third
Love in the fourth
Hate by the sixth
But I hope to hate you in the seventh
And love you in the ninth

The final line.

You’re an ocean and there’s far more to you than just the shoreline and a mile in.
I hope you know.

It’s not a question of whether you choose me or not.

I’m not selfish, however I am doing myself
some good in choosing to love on you
even though your cheek is turned away from me
I will kiss it, and let it say much more than just that

My kiss will leave things lingering on your skin far more than the love I hold for you.

Far more than words.

The sensation will taunt you.

Like you taunt me.

Things are changing
I’m staying
Not moving
That’s what I’m doing.

These are things that my eyes say, but my mouth won’t.

These are things that I want to say, but you occupy my mouth

in words and having it connect with yours.

sincerely , jdm.

teeth marks.

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do you ever feel consumed by a song?

consumed by a setting..

consumed by your surroundings..

consumed by a person..

does it make you weak or brave that

you can so effortlessly be consumed?

can you only tell if you make it out alive?

by how many teeth marks there are on you?

by how satisfying or unsatisfying you were?

does it make a difference if you give in?

 

sometimes I feel like songs access feelings that I never knew were there

tears welcome themselves out of my eyes, onto my cheeks

and I’m asking myself if I am weak or brave.

 

sometimes a setting blocks me out of itself only to be zoned out of

onto a new setting where I have it all figured out

everyone figured out

but it haunts me, and peace mocks me, then it all falls on me

and I’m asking myself if I am weak or brave.

 

sometimes my surroundings grow roots to extend into my heart

metaphorically, but my goodness, I feel them scratching at

my heart with their pointy ends 

and the attention begging gets to me, I shut my eyes

I cover my ears, firmly

but they are making my heart sting horribly

and I’m asking myself if I am weak or brave.

 

sometimes the forces of flesh and the universe combine

and I find myself in the arms of a man that thinks

possibly very little of me

but I kiss him, because I have passion to give

we end up being something so fragile

unlikely to last

 

but the kisses are mending

the touches are electrifying

the tongue in expressive form of letting words be uttered and letting ectstasy be felt

by touching another tongue and I am over here looking at you, look at me

looking at me, looking at you

wanting you to consume me in looks, sexually, verbally

I am over here asking myself if I am weak or brave.

with your few teeth marks on my body, alive, satisfied 

physically

but bleeding, almost dead, and dissatisfied

internally. 

 

only to ask myself again if I am weak or brave in a quiet manner, and I

don’t have an answer.

sincerely, jdm.

Listen to me. Please.

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You can’t just kiss me and then leave.

 

Isn’t that how tragedy starts?

Don’t you feel life take a quick pause for

you to brace yourself for disaster?

I feel like I felt it this time with you.

 

Amidst the hugs.

Amidst the kissing.

It left me sighing.

The pit in my stomach grew.

 

I had every expectation meet right up with reality.

I knew what was going to happen, but I still

wanted something else to come out of this.

I knew this would happen, but at the same time I didn’t.

 

It’s gonna pain me to have to resort to memory

to see you smile

and see your eyes look into my own.

 

But obligations are obligations right?

That’s what you say.

It was going to play out like this anyways.

 

Still..

Don’t kiss me and go away.

Listen to me please.

Hear my tired voice read this to you.

 

What a journal of tragedies, I’m so sorry.

But this is your entry.

 

I wish I picked up on moments of happiness

more than I do moments of sadness.

I let sadness linger.

I wish I didn’t.

I miss you already.

 

It’s the absence of it all. The absence of

smiles, and laughter replaced with

tears and pain inside your chest that

you can’t quite pinpoint.

But my goodness, it is so present.

 

God, I have You.

I have faith.

I have an urge to love so much and not feel remorse

for caring so highly and prefering others over myself.

Because I have You so I have everything in a world

that has nothing.

 

God, why does my tongue feel so itchy for things I held

back in my throat and are crawling up begging for out?

Why do these thoughts collect like dust and leave my head

so heavy even wearing down my heart?

Why do my fingers reach out when all I want is to carress their mind?

Why does my body do this to me?

 

I want to make it easier for myself but somewhere along the process

I find myself in utter clutter around me.

I later find comfort in dragging another individual in hoping they would

help me gather myself, but I end up writing about what I feel when our

eyes make contact and how every cell in me gives in to my body’s

desire for pleasure in having a taste of words because having it travel into

my ear is somehow not enough.

 

So I tell you this..

your eyes drive me crazy. I feel my eyes tell your eyes things that my lips

would be unable to construct into sentences. I hope this

makes sense to you. The difficulty is surfacing.

When it comes down to me being weak to my own body, it’s because

I do. I lose myself in myself. I lose myself twice in you. It’s like floating on water that has over 100 feet

of nothingness below. I feel you dig into me without you touching me.

I feel nothing and everything at the same time. I feel your fingertips around the

back of my neck but inside of myself you’re taking me out of this atmosphere

and placing me into your own. I feel infinite pressure and infinite freedom.

Your lips on mine are a conquest to high temperatures that leaves you thirsting

for more. I can’t push these feelings off.

 

This time, this tragedy tasted like cigarettes and felt much like a film which I did not

want to stop. I even heard the music start to play with scenes with you and I.

 

But what does the world do to me?

It presses stop, it shakes its head at me then rewinds to the point of where I am still just

an individual learning from the “last time” promising

myself I won’t let myself get into situations like that.

It tells me this is where I ought to be.

 

But wrong follows me and I follow it, no matter the circumstance, into a luring forest

where dawn leaves a cool breeze in the air and that is the

only time I really feel. I feel physically, mentally, emotionally; everything.

And I want to feel as much as possible. I want to feel a feel like this forever.

 

Please. Listen to me.

This feels uneasy, at least I think (what would I know?)

because I sense your body drifting away back to where you belong

but my heart is breaking with added distance. Place me back to

the start where I am on my own. Do it for me, and place a gate

taller than I am able to climb and never let me do this to myself again.

And stop playing our music because you are tearing me to pieces.

sincerely, jdm.

“Or is it just me?”

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there’s you and there’s me

and in the middle are the strings

that were always there 

one by one coming out of your left side

and my right side

 

we didn’t know until we stood by each other

that they would gravitate towards one another

and tie a little knot

first our feet

then our knees

and sections further and further up

 

the story is that we’re both really broken people

put together, fallen apart, put together and fallen apart

but we made do with our strings 

we made the conclusion that since the knot and then the

tension by being pulled close by them

therefore, the kiss

to suppress it

but it rose, and we tried to weigh it down

by putting each other’s body weight on top of one another

by turn until we were both bare in our skin

and our skin majestically radiated infinite colors

overwhelming the simple human eye

and so we let it..

 

we were left in our fear with no eye sight but the sight of

dots of color in pitch black darkness that our eyes manipulated

us to see. and we heard sounds that weren’t there. and we saw

things our mind created. we whispered for it to settle down. we

ignored the solution of finding comfort in holding each other near

because fear had such a tight grip. holding us down. and time had us

in a choke hold waiting for our eyes to finally roll over as we were still.

my mind left the stage of suffering and made a dash for the stage of

nostalgia, to remember the comfort I felt finding comfort in relevance

amongst things you found comfort in relating to. the film we watched.

watching you watch the film like if it were the first time. a luminescence

covered you over like a heavy blanket and your warmness was injected 

into me by simply looking at you. I wanted to understand you, so I grew

an obsession with looking for symbolization, looking for explanations,

anything to open my brain to realization of who you are and feel closer

to your wounds that you believe are still open. and in the mix your

wounds become my own, and I feel like I am living it all vicariously

through you. A mistake on replay, although I never learn. This time

too deep. How did I find comfort in the beginning? Why do I leave my mind 

far behind me? What do I even work with here? If my mind is far behind me

and I’m walking in the woods alone, then what is guiding me here? Have I

done this before and am I just following the path I already knew? I don’t ever want

to look into a mirror and see me holding you and feeling your heartbeat like

you feel your own heart beat. I don’t ever want to know the exact times you’ll inhale

and exhale. I just want to count on it to happen, but as for my own breathing…

have I completely forgotten it’s significance? Why does it feel like I’m falling

into the sky and a dark hole at the same time? 

Does this happen to you? Please tell me it does.

If I find relevance in you, in something you find relatable, I will be able to breathe again.

But I’m begging you not to, I’m urgently in need of a stop to this cycle.

Please do…

Please don’t…

…tell me this happens to you too.

Or is it just me?

 

sincerely, jdm.

the appealing and the frightening

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you know how they say things that happen 

are supposed to happen?

the notion of predetermined destinies is

pretty appealing but frightening as well 

because that means some body knew I was destined

to be this messed up and did not consider giving me

a fair warning to plan ahead

..to be prepared..

 

so I’m left to fend for myself;

I tell you this with utter sincerity,

my heart feels like a huge flower where roots keep flourishing out

but the petals keep falling

and falling..

and falling continuously..

i’m always left to mourn

 

the appealing part of this is that,

yes I’m losing my head and sanity is rolling right

off my body as the tears strolling for a ride

to be absorbed by the pillows I lay my head on;

however, if anything has felt so comforting in terms of

things that were destined to happen, it is the massive

meaning and importance that you so firmly hold to me

 

I have no shame in vocally making it known that I prefer you over me

because this was all meant to be

these feelings, these emotions

you make everything make sense

and without you I feel so irrational and insane

I’m trying to help myself be put together once again but you left

a crater in me like a meteorite would to earth

 

so I wonder why I’m asked why I’m willingly allowing myself

to be driven down this road of madness when it is

perfectly logical for this to occur once another

flesh becomes more important than your own

 

and you, my love, I’ve had the weight of your bare body on

me before and at every blink that my eyes do, I am placed

right back into those moments

and I never complained until you removed yourself

but when you remove yourself in the visions I have whilst

I am blinking

the second that you do

and I open my eyes it is like pulling twice the number of

stubborn band-aids from my sensitive skin

and I’m always left aching

to fend for myself..

to mourn..

over my petals on the ground

and my pained skin

sincerely, jdm.

rip me.

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it begins with me asking, if you’ve looked

and if you’ve found

someone that makes every inch of your skin want to 

shatter into thousands of pieces by the

simple rise of ecstatically energized endorphins

by just kissing you

or is it not even comparable?

 

because I know the places on your neck

the places on your shoulders

the places on your back

that trigger those motions

and those emotions

 

the ones that urge you to pull me near

and rip me to shreds the only way

you know how without injuring me

physically

but you leave my heart aching

once it’s time for us to turn our backs to each other

 

and no one knows

 

i like it when you caress the spine lining of my back

i like it when you look at me with your colored eyes

because it gets engraved so deep into my brain

and the image of them is so clear everytime

i close my eyes to imagine them

that my eyes begin to collect water

and my cheeks take it all south

and then i hear my heart beating in my ears

 

rapidly, a ringing and white noise takeover

but seconds before that your voice

travels in with chords that sum up

to the sound of my name

and i taste your tongue spelling it out

for my heart to consume shamelessly

 

it rips me to shreds again

only from the inside then out

so putting myself together with

my back turned to you is difficult

but my lungs are always contracting and expanding

and the stars glisten in various ways to remind me

that you’ll turn your cheek in my direction and your

feet will be walking my way

and mine towards you

 

soon.

 

who does that for you?

only i do.

 

sincerely, jdm

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