Always lean towards the self

There’s ideas
And there’s self

Always lean towards the self

peace

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Fire curtain

It is a cruel and deserted world. Only stacks of papers funnel around you and I in this empty space. There’s something embedded within your cold demeanor. Your fake laughs, the way your hands shake when you lose control, your pointless hunger for power. We’re like mice roaming around in a dusty, cold, metallic warehouse. We’re sick, our eyes are red, and we breathe in toxic air. You need not say a word, I hear it all in your bloodshot, tired eyes.

I wish I could save you, but I’m sorry. I can’t save someone who’s hungry for pride. Your psychosis empowers and obliterates everything on its way. The more I look at your sunken cheeks, the more I find this love and frustration
This scorching fire red rippling through, in tidal waves
Snatching and covering the naked flesh
These luscious hallucinations
Spinning, incomprehensible sensations
Tactile, careful traces
Along ghastly fleshes
This need to hold on
To shattered wishes that fall through our arms
Tumbling
Along powerful universal rays
That flame a spiritual ignition, in between two stellar body fusions
All of this encapsulated in the salty, wet
Sweat drop
That reflects a wonder world
Upon your skin.

Take me there, hand to hand, fingers interlocked. This world is paradise, there’s no need for words. Just silence and pain. Heightened dreams… made-up games. There only exists sweet desserts and lush, accompanied by our humming and music that weave in and out of us.
Hidden, under a curtain of red fire. Churning, and smoking
Inseparable as two molten rocks.

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Stuck with a fly

She sat bored, disgusted, and as distant as she could be away from him in the little closed space that they shared together. She tried to ignore him, but he made squeamish noises that constantly reminded her of him being right there next to her. She closed her eyes and placed her fingers over her ears. After what seemed like a long time, which might have only been minutes, she turned around and glared at him angrily. His filthy look made her nauseous. He tried to move the palps on the bottom of his face, as if he acknowledged her watching him. He stared off ahead with his massive black and netted bug eyes. He was a fly, sort of. His head was that of a fly, but the rest of his body was that of a man. It repulsed her. She was stuck with him inside a clear glass jar. When she looked outside from the glass jar, she saw flasks emitting gasses and other types of colorful experiments occurring. The jar in which they were in rested atop a lab bench. She squinted her eyes and searched as far as she could and found two other human couples, a male and a female, inside a similar jar far away from them. She envied the woman because she was stuck with a real man. Of all the guys she could have been stuck with, she was stuck with a disgusting half a fly. He sputtered something and buzzed, flapping fibers on the sides of his face. She huddled herself into a ball and cringed. She closed her eyes and wished it was a bad dream. Soon enough, her heart began to beat slower and she felt the oxygen levels slowly change inside the jar.

She woke up and she was thoughtless. She looked outside of the glass jar and saw multiple kaleidoscopic-like images. She turned to face the fly and saw his image in multiples as well. He sputtered something and buzzed, and she sputtered something and buzzed back.

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Yin Yang

Maybe it’s time, I don’t know, it happens every late morning
And once in a while before bed…
This feeling of total control over my life
It’s like magic, with tricky hands
I can see where the ball strikes next
And wins.
It’s like that in your harried presence
It’s your commanding glare
Looking at my
Dirty skin and hair
But I didn’t fear that one time
I looked at you
And once more, it was an empty room
Full of eyes
Fire on fire
Ice on ice
Yet you behaved oblivious
And I used to wish that you’d know it
But now
I can feel the humid summer night breeze that strike
And resonate like the way of stringed instruments
Whose sound move to the flow of the ocean waves
And indicate
Somewhere in the depths of your holy soul
The dirty scumbag
That you wanna scratch clean with your finger nails
And get down and dirty on the ground with

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Tropical bird

Please don’t leave, he whispered from the depths of his heart
Her forest eyes pierced into his mind and took him elsewhere
Paradise
Where red-yellow birds flew over the rainbow
And the waterfalls drenched into the ground
Don’t leave me, he thought
As he buried his nose in her hair
And got soaked in that waterfall.

In a dimly lit room, there remained only he and she
But when he closed his eyes, she was somewhere else
In paradise
Her dark hair cascading down her back
The piece of clothing around her; green
Her forest marble eyes and her adoring smile
Flashing at him with the peaking sunlight
Her careless walk with the wind
How salty her skin
He clenched the shell of her underneath the dim lights
And begged her not to leave

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