'Who am I' she asks : A creative explosion of paradoxical remarks the student replied.

Too Soon


“I believe in love. Even if you say
so otherwise.” You’re a skeptic though and I know.
“People simply give up too¬†soon
to figure it out.” The whole basic algorithm we’ve been
asking for is a simple equation after all.
You keep persisting.

Younger Now


I can’t remember to tell myself enough to not fight against
the arbitrary anecdote we have become. Was I not
able to speak up for myself again? Or find the bigger picture
behind all this, where a larger entity of epicenter exists; I’d imagine,
would the rotational inertia take me there alas
to being younger now, and fearless.



I see it everywhere, the colloquial equivalent
Of the most ambitious sort.
“I’m most afraid,
The world is a lonely sport.”
Judging whether we ought to be rescued, I can’t help
Without being wrought
Catatonic by my own muse, knowing we had
Already known this in life and strive yet
Against the ubiquity of being alone.



Letting go of your hand, I felt fear
In case you would forget me, long after I
Had already begun to move on.
“Why do you think we want to be
Remembered?” You asked once before.
I stopped making believe
Of our fake dialogues since
I can remember.

The Return


I spoke too soon when I
Called it a backslide,
In case you were worried
I realized what this has been.
“I’ve always been here.” You simply
Didn’t see it
So don’t be surprised by the
Of who we are.

Reasons to


I hadn’t thought to ask
Forgotten really, the reason
“Where have we been all along?”
It seemed silly
When we had all the reasons to



We said we would
Keep in touch
And not let the distance beat us.
“Talk to you tomorrow,” was meant
To be sincere, against the odds
Our last message expired
Since then,
And outlived our promises


Asylum: Inside the Closed World of State Mental Hospitals

I realize I am laughing aloud, turning
around to see the room in the background
of my peripherals, you still exist
In conversation, even as I know better
than to stop believing.
None of this is real I realize, and I think of how
true it is that we can live infinitely against the world,
safely inside the asylum of our imaginations.

A Choice


“Choose wisely,
Would you have your words be
Brave or sincere, since you can’t
Have both so long as
Pride and your desire are in
Play.” I pondered in the split
Second before replying
And realized this has always been
A choice
All along.

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