Picture; Essay.

When did it become a privilege to breath?

When a hundred thousand died and a million plus suffocate. Drowned in an ocean of mis-content, prayed to Lady Ms. Fortune.

Lost in the sea of choices on Netflix, while thousands march across the Imperial Boulevard of his, or her, majesty, reticulated. Was it teary gas or did they choked by the knee of justice? Blinded by the bigger picture of unity and pride, protected and served by the royal guards of simplicity and lies.

In the passenger seat, the reflection of her is overshadowed by many noise of the roads. A mixed motion of stationary mobility, a fixation of her present warmth intimately empowers my wheel through the continental highways and valleys. Her presence alone fuels the endless motion of the perpetual possibility. The highway forks, through many storms I wish to see you again, an unhinged smile. To hear you again, a voice rattles with the sound of unconditional love…

Pih pah pah

Rains fallen, dances off the glass windows

Thunders cling,

Sunders off bricks and morter

As a million razor blades glide down the esophagus of the men in the watery mirrors

Tsih tsah tsah

A dirt eating monster parks, loads, digests all of the leftovers of our human civilization

The reminiscences linger, the monster departs, rubbery wheels spin

A chorus of engines, rubbers, and their beeps to humans murmur in the midst of an after storm

Zing

A thundery beginning advertently converges to a soundless climax

Solemn reminder of all the incomplete vengeances left in my vein as they slides down into a puddle

A silent ring stitches all the sizzling chill caressed by the artificial wind

Render all the cuts painlessly, rending my quote on quote heart into countless pieces

A thousand "Sorry" as they look down onto the drizzling street

These reflections of me mumble, a long fixed vacant gaze at our glowing "Athenian Pinnacle"

I went to star gazing last night, In the middle of the woods, I stand on the edge of the hill, the setting sun endows my indignant shadow as I wonder how to recall emotion without memory. A clash of silhouettes between the two worlds, he, my shadow, stretches to gauge the veracity of my inexorable pain.

Bemused, I wonder if you are real. You, the Blackening Heaven, lift the cloudy ceiling, snaps me back into this bereft emptiness: absence of life and death, except a simulacrum of who I think I wasto her; and he, my shadow, fades as I waitin hope the lachrymose reality would be an evanescent dream.

The pollen-y breeze brushes my eyes, my nose, my chin and the gaps between my fingers. I sneezed away my last sense of hope. my world, now painted in the water colors of my eyes, edging behind the fastened gate, dolefully witnessing the mercurial scene change from sliver-lining to dangling glitter. Without a blink, every burn-in fades.

A brushing flash rushes before me when you first presented this yellow blue bike, disappointed and shameful to ride it out in the street. Unbeknownest to my younger self, I judged your heart based on the face value of this yellow blue bike. What a waste? A waste of your money or your love. A slap on the face, your face. Is it a generational dissonance or waa it simply my spoiled self over valuing my little narrow minded self.

Nonetheless, I felt it. I felt it when I said "what the fuck this is." I felt the stab you felt, the betray I railed, the dispacible hell-ish pain you'd have never imaged to held in the depth of your humbling self, I felt. I failed, I fell. I fell into this unforgivable crime I commited as a selfish son who should never tell his own beloved mama she failed. Instead I failed. I failed to understand the fact that she was trying give all she could, so I can stay in this bubbly imaginary kingdom of myself, with her as my only subject who'd never bail. All because my stupid little self.

Four 

Awaken, my mind sinks back into the never before, scene darkens 

Imaging every possible scenarios to ease my pain 

Feels fasten, smile forgotten. 

Only from the recollection do I feel the tingling joy rivet through my vein 

Figuratively exiting my body 

every laughter and tingling tap have sunken a fraction of myself I can’t recall 

Five 

My heavy eyes fallen 

from the darkness to emptiness and again brighten 

forgotten what was before but the lingering after. 

Victim, villain, and the bystander. 

I witnessed y’all, until you recall the password. You, Ms. victim of the hostile world, recall...

if I know the password, stories will roar, 

that when my silence fall. I lost and my mind tossed only to realize my disconnected body hauls

awaken again 

finding myself in the same sunken place 

except my dry eyes are wet, and my wet lids are dry. 

Drafting winds whisper on the river,

Another world startled, shaken every mirror,

The serotinal braze smoothens my cheeks, my lips, my eyes,

Hugged by the eternally ocean of time,

Alas I turn to see you smile again,