Seize the night;

It was made for us.

It was made to be the servant of our desire,

To bend before our will, to pander

To our whims.

Seize the night,

And hold it tightly; tie it

With the bonds of our love.

Let's bite it, scratch it, feast on it,

Until we're breathless,

Until we're exhausted;

Like it were only one night

With the craving for living

Another and another

Over and over again.

I am a butterfly that can experience

Eternity in one day, mea vita,

And, just like a butterfly

That chooses the most beautiful flower,

I will perch on your hips with a hunger

For nectar even if it's poisonous.

I would rather lose my mind

Than live without you.

In all of the books I've read:

Philosophies, doctrines...

I explored and could never find

That the greatest happiness is

In the delicious curve that goes

From your nape to your shoulder,

In the addictive attractiveness of your hands,

In the mesmerizing sound of your voice.

Anything that's yours is my delight.

I only yearn to seize this night with you

And let its essence pour into me,

Clinging to each instant, lingering on the bliss

Of our bodies encircling each other

In an eternal embrace.

If you are thinking about being in a relationship,

be prepared for the rotten fruit of their labors to pick your bones clean.

Your saccharine eyes will lure them in with their sugary glaze,

and then they will blame you for cavities that were already there, yet

You will stay.

You will stay because your tears will taste so good as they pool at your lips

that you will forget the bruises that were left on your lungs.

Your bones will become so brittle that the next time they tell you "just breathe,"

a rib may snap into your tender, empty stomach.

Skipping meals will become easier when you no longer have to hear death threats

if you dare to enter the kitchen at the wrong time.

When they insult your passions, it will be your fault

for seeing them as anything worthwhile.

You will stay because the next time that you say goodbye,

they will mail you their death certificate and cry "murder."

Every breath you take near them will fill your lungs with whisky tears

when they tell you to never leave.

You will stay because maybe you deserve it.

You will stay for so long that injected poison will leak from your veins,

and you will forget which of you held the needle.

They will convince you that you are a princess and numb your reactions

so that they can lock you in their home and call it your tower.

When you open your scars,

all they will see is an opportunity for target practice.

They will see that you own the exact ammunition

to fit the gun that they are concealing.

You will stay even when they morph into something inhuman before your eyes,

because they will still manage to be just the right amount of charming.

They will bring you on the deadliest ride you have been on,

and tell you that the restraints do not unlock.

A glowing exit sign will be visible seconds before it is too late.

If you are thinking about being in a relationship,

be prepared for the possibilities.

A blazing fire could be lurking behind a beautiful pair of eyes but,

so could a cool and gentle ocean breeze.

[Originally posted in 2019, on an old account]

Back in my childhood days, I would dream of when my time would come.

My mother would brush my hair and tell me about her blossoming ceremony. Family and only the closest of friends would gather outdoors and shower their loved one in fresh spring water, unearthing their first personal foliage. Flora would sprout from anywhere sunlight could reach. Heads, faces, arms, legs, shoulders, hands, feet, sometimes even ribs and backs. It was all so fascinating to me back then, and I used to crave the gardenias that my mother had on her thighs and the azaleas on her chest. I would braid her hair and color pictures of flowers and run in the grass barefoot.

When my time came, I was a late teen. I invited two of my friends to attend my ceremony and I fell to my knees upon being showered in cool water. My first blossoms were peach daffodils, a linear patch going down my left leg. Later, in my twenties, I received purple calla lilies that framed the back of my head as they sprouted. My thirties brought me two beautiful children and the same gardenias that my mother had on my stomach.

My mother fell ill in my mid-thirties and her flowers wilted three months later. My tears grew pink carnations that flooded my cheeks like freckles and her grave grew mossy. I still think about her when I look down, and it brings me solace that we share blooms.

I look to the future, excited for my children's first ceremonies; excited to see what kind of people they become and how their flora reflects their experiences just as mine have. My daffodils, marked as a renewal from when I had finally found myself and was comfortable in my own skin. My lilies, ever so vibrant, shown the passion I felt for my partner that I was already certain I’d grow old with all that time ago. Gardenias that represented strength grew clustered on my stomach after I finally welcomed my beautiful children when we were told there was a low chance that they would make it. The carnations upon my face, I firmly believe, were my mothers parting gift to me. We still are unsure of how we came to grow these natural beauties but, I know that my mother gave them to me. I always get asked how this could be, and I tell them that the pink carnation carries the meaning of a mother’s undying love. I carry her with me everywhere, and all that I ever hope people see now when they look at my face is just that: a flower that will never truly wilt even after I am gone.

Love.

You cannot win against someone who has nothing to lose.

Sound cannot travel in the vacuum of space.

Screams mean nothing to a person with no ears.

Tears mean nothing to a person with no eyes.

Nights spent awake mean nothing to a person with one foot in their grave.

A malnourished body will still perish if force-fed.

A caterpillar will no more quickly turn to a butterfly

If you clip another's' wings.

Someone who is ill will no more quickly heal

If you expose yourself to an illness as well.

Sometimes, love is parasitic.

You cannot drive if you are running on empty.

Risk does not always equal reward.

If you are tired, you should take a break.

Some people are not always healthy to be around.

The loss of a friendship will hurt.

The loss of a friends life will hurt more.

Do not intertwine yourself in others' demons.

Can you believe it has come to this, and after all this time?

One day, we will be free to come together once more.

Recordings replaced faces, text replaced touch, fantasies replaced reality.

Elope with me, darling, I am so tired. Let's leave this all behind.

You and I, together, can leave this great sadness in our wake.

Fire is supposed to bring fear but I have never felt more at peace.

Being surrounded by it, it feels like a dream come true.

For so long, I have sought it out; I have craved it, yearned for it.

Remember when you were told not to play with matches?

It was the best day of my life, to learn that I could control the fire.

I dug through the junk drawer at home in search for the magical sticks.

The power that one little match has; it's almost unfathomable.

A backyard fence burnt to ashes, the ground on either side slightly charred.

There is a beautiful irony to it all.

I remember being called crazy by my parents, the fear in their eyes.

I remember being called crazy by my friends, the laughter in their voice.

I remember being called crazy by my boyfriend, licking his lips.

Families always want to meet their child's partner, like it's a final exam.

"He may not be good for you, so we need to pass our own judgement."

Some people worry about first impressions, I worry about a plan failing.

Let's take some time to set the scene.

A family dinner; gloriously braised pork with carrots and potatoes.

A meeting between damned souls as they smile and shake hands.

My boyfriend sits down right next to me, making sure to squeeze my leg.

He always does that when he's nervous that I'll talk.

My parents wishing that they could be anywhere else than sitting across the way.

Dinner conversation is forced, laughter is calculated, comments are targeted.

I rise from the table, my emotions as unreadable as always.

My little secret is waiting to be shared from just up the stairway.

I look left, right, down the halls, from the foyer to the back door.

Out of sight, out of sound.

A bathroom excuse covers for me as I sneak to the top of my new viewing deck.

Creak...

Chit!

Whoosh!

---

Here I sit at an old wooden desk, it won't be long now.

Neighbors have seen the smoke, running out to the street, calling for help.

I look down at them from my bedroom window.

I am writing a final goodbye, to my parents, boyfriend, and police.

Their screams echo in the walls, the sound of their nails scratching for a way out.

The fire crackling, roaring, unrelenting from just under my feet.

I let out a sigh of relief as I write my final words, smiling.

News anchors will read the story of my "sickening crime" in their broadcasts.

I will already be far away from this realm, taking abuse and feeling pain no more.

A door,

Calling upon me at half past two.

I rise from my bed, notice the stillness of the night;

The eeriness of the silence, cut by a voice.

A voice so quiet, a whisper barely heard from just on the other side.

"Open this door and I will take you back."

There are no walls to connect this door and yet it stands.

The space behind the door appears empty, yet a call crept from the other side.

The floor feels like ice as I emerge from the comfort of feathers and cotton.

Curios, I step to the door and place a palm to the wood, feeling a light vibration.

The voice comes back at last, feeling almost as if the door itself is what is speaking.

Impossible.

"Be certain of the time you wish to revisit before opening.

Enter, and change your fate.

When you are satisfied, return to me.

All of the choices you make on this trip will be final.

Reversing what has already been reversed is not a possibility.

Everything that you lost, though, can be regained."

I close my eyes, imagining holding my love in my arms

That fateful night before everything changed.

Everyone expects the pain to have subsided,

But I know that it hasn't and

Deep down

I've been praying to whoever will listen for a do-over.

I clutch the knob, and open the door

Where I am greeted by her again.

"Took you long enough," she teases

And I let the tears fall.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"I've never been better," I reply.

We talk, like no time has passed.

We laugh at the stories we recount of the past.

We hold each other close for awhile, and then she says

"I should really get going. I have a train to catch."

My bones stiffen, my head spins.

"No!"

She looks at me, confused, chuckling.

The pale color of my face startles her.

"Talk to me."

"You can't go. Please, I got a horrible vision."

"I go on this trip every year. What's the problem?"

"Trust me. Wait one more day."

To my surprise and my relief,

She listens.

She is unsettled, but she re-schedules the trip.

I've done it and I bask in the glory of keeping her.

I see the door I came through out of the corner of my eye;

I decide to wait until morning.

In the middle of the night,

There is a disturbance.

From beside me, my lover convulses.

Inconsolable shrieking, her breathing rapid.

Her eyes are closed like she's sleeping,

And I desperately attempt to wake her.

Nothing; I shake her more.

Nothing; I cry out as the screams intensify.

Nothing; something is seen rising out from inside of her chest.

Nothing; blood as black as night envelopes her.

Nothing; silence comes, only interrupted by my own sickness.

Nothing; I sob into the phone as the ambulance arrives.

"Are you satisfied?"

No one can determine what happened.

"Are you satisfied?"

I cannot explain what happened.

"Are you satisfied?"

They found my prints on the murder weapon.

"Are you satisfied?"

I beg for them to listen, but they just think I'm ill.

"Are you satisfied?"

Take me back.

Please take me back.

This was a mistake.

I wanted to save her.

I needed to save her

To save myself.

"Are you satisfied?"