The sun sets, and

Only now do I realize

I am no longer a child.

I have to be an adult,

Which means I have to be my parents.

I have to hate the children I will have

and I have to have children, because

I have to fall in love, and then

Fall out of love,

But pretend I didn't.

I have to hate my job, my dreams, my life

Because I am no longer a child.

The sun sets, and the warm orange sky just tastes

bitter,

bitter,

bitter.

I have returned to a patio of luxury.

A long drink with a dash of you,

An essence I missed forever.

I have returned to an atrium of cashmere.

A pleasant day spent travelling on you

To arrive at the crown of your hair.

I have returned to a room of gold.

How lovely to love someone named you,

A crescendo I heard long ago.

June wanted to take me away.

July kissed me on the mouth

For the first time.

August brought back crazy memories.

September tried to wipe my tears

Away, but I didn't let him.

September is a he.

I know a person

Who once tried to kill

Himself.

(It is bittersweet to see

Him move around like

It didn't happen.)

If the sun shines and

The weather is nice I

Laugh with him.

If the rain falls I try

To cheer him up.

Sometimes

I don't know if he cries or it's just the rain.

1 couple.

1 autocorrect mistake.

1 angry reply, wait actually

13 angry replies.

3 failed attempts of explanation and 

1 additional autocorrect, again.

2 missed calls.

3 minutes of silence.

4 desperate texts.

2 days of silence.

2 sad people.

I was the storm in your garden

That morning.

I was swift of birth, living with

My mother.

(I never met someone I could

Call my dad.)

I was there, and I did not mean

To scare you.

I was rude to your Tulips, which

You raised there,

I was aware you raised them so

Carefully.

But it wasn't on purpose, that

I came, no.

I was tearing the petals of

Your flowers,

I was restless, once I started

Reaping them.

I was hardly seeing your face,

How you cried.

I was obsessed with my own ones,

Falling rain,

I was giving to your garden

That morning.

I was a small white cloud once, you

Remember.

I was lying there like an idol.

The turquoise water reddened by your

Name. Ancient carving, poisonous 

It was, a talisman on my hand.

I was lying there, without moving

Waiting for your bold arms to pick me

Up. My sleepless, opened eyes searching

For you, for you, conscientiously.

I was lying there, the cold water

Hypnotizing the aching depths of

My veins. My porcelain body, the

divine scream crucifying onto you.

I was lying there like an idol.

Goddesses mourned over me without

Stopping. Their freezing tears were washing

Away the fever-blood on my face.

I was laying there, where you were not,

Not even to dry up my tears, not

Holding my hand. – – – – –

– – – – – – – – –

Shall I compare you to Musical.ly stars?

Your profile says "i only live once, girl".

Because haters gonna hate even us,

Like, summer's expiration date's over.

I lost my sunglasses, it burns real hot,

Even my tan is not fake now; you ask

Where's my beach body in such trying times,

Well I had a cupcake or two (or twelve);

But look at you, having those curves just fine,

Not skinny, losing no pounds, just 'follow's,

Because you don't need filters for likes,

Created wonderful as are, God knows.

   So long your mirror is not distorted,

   So long you break those ceilings, you're OK.

Beautiful spinal cord, almost stunning. Designed and trademarked by an angel, maybe a muse, yes. Mix in more of that personal magic. Don't follow the recipe, Euterpe.

Form that body between your hands, isn't it like dough? Sweet, filled with sugar, no, it must be honey, use honey! That will never expire. Makes the skin smooth, too.

Choose the whitest set of teeth. Make it look like a diamond when flashing a smile. Charming. And fill the empty chambers of the heart. There is plenty of ingredients left.

Here: harm, love. Use both. These will merge in the brain and end in silence. Maybe it will hurt someone, but don't think about that. Add some ignorance, that'll do.

Perfect. Ready and complete. Looks more like a god, not a human being. Delight in what you made and let it run, ruin everything. It will stay true. True and lethal.

I am still recovering from the damage. Made itself an acquaintance, then a friend. Made me a believer—told you, a god. Scarred and convinced me it was my fault. It was, yes.

Then a stranger again. Left, got more pain to cause somewhere else. It was wrong to disobey the recipe, Euterpe. Serve in a million portions, it said. Not a single dose.

The apparition of faces in my life;

Unwanted connections coated in honey,

Meeting the standards I did not make.

Petals in a jar I have to fill with smiles,

But I'd rather put wet, black  memories in it,

And then break the jar with a pounding honesty.

(After Ezra Pound's In a Station of the Metro)