The comedian told a joke last night.
Another joke that wasn’t funny.
“She’s delusional! There’s something wrong with her.”
Nobody laughed.
This comedian told the same joke in the past.
And nobody laughed then either.

The comedian told a joke last night.
Another joke that wasn’t funny.
“I don’t know where she gets it from! I swear!”
Nobody laughed.
This comedian told similar jokes in the past.
And nobody laughed then either.

The comedian hasn’t realized yet,
that these jokes aren’t funny.
“She’s delusional! There’s something wrong with her.”
Everybody left.
This comedian told the exact same jokes in the past.
And everybody’s patience has finally wore thin.

The comedian told his last joke last night,
a joke he regretted ever telling.
“I don’t know where she gets it from! I swear!”
Nobody was left to laugh.
This comedian realized he told the same old jokes in the past.
And nobody was left to laugh.


Trying to forget only makes me remember,
everything that happened since last September.
I look down at a magazine whose words read,
“One pill to erase your worst memories. Want to try it?”
And I can’t help but answer, “How much to buy it?”
It’s fallacious to think a person can just forgive and forget.
Forgive? Yes. Forget? Not as easy.
I apologize for all of this redundancy,
but the problem with trying to forget isn’t hard to see.
This is what happens, and though I’m sad to say,
it’s always this way:
When you convince yourself to forget because “it’s all in the past,”
the little voice inside your head begins to cause a commotion,
leaving you anxious and feeling like you’ve been spun around- motion
sickness, vomit inducing are the questions that flutter in your mind,
whose answers are never too kind.
Tell me the truth, I beg you, that’s all I ever wanted.
Because of your lies, I feel so incredibly haunted.

Text as image to form image. Via Adobe Photoshop

Close My Eyes

I close my eyes and remember all that you had put me through;
A year recaptured through the evolution of you.
You explained that everything you had done was due to depression;
and nobody’s questioning the validity of that excuse.
Nor is anybody downplaying the severity of being so recluse.
What I ask is that you be cognizant that your depression caused mine.
I ask that you refrain from calling me selfish for trying to make you realize that I wasn’t fine.
Still, as I open my eyes, I smile knowing that you’ve evolved to someone better;
Someone that I’d always known was there.
Regardless of all the naysayers and unbelievers;
Regardless of how they desperately tried to keep me away.
I believed in you from the first day I met you;
and no matter what happens, I’ll always believe in you.

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Perfect Potion

I’m wishing on a star in the night’s overcast sky,
hopelessly holding on to a hope that is no longer there.
Dedication, devotion, loyalty, love, respect, care, and kindness-
Most would say, ingredients needed to brew the perfect potion.
But what significance is there in a commonly shared opinion if such an opinion is not shared by you?

I’m letting go of the hope that I held on to for so long.
No more wishing on stars that are barely visible, if ever they were,
or baring witness to rivers that flow amidst a drought on the hottest and sunniest of days.
No more mirages to sway me away.
No more denying or hoping, begging or pleading.
No more day dreaming or reminiscing.
No more questioning why the majority would say that I brewed the perfect potion.
No more wondering why – just accepting.
My perfect potion just wasn’t perfect for you.

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Indescribable are my feelings as of late.
A year full of you was a year rich with love and hate.
“Your soul has been destroyed,” they often say.
All attempts to hide the pain apparently were in vain.
My distress signal has been sent unintentionally.
I didn’t want the world to know about my grievous fate.
A fate controlled by your hands and manipulative ways.
Your lies and deception began to affect my spirits greatly.
A day without the drop of a tear began to seem inconceivable.
But love has a tendency to make a deceptive reality.
They tell me that the way I love is often taken advantage of.
They said I’m being used and terribly abused.
One look at me and they would gasp in disbelief at the amount of weight I had lost-
Immediately noting that your actions were to blame.
My stress levels have tripled in the time that I’ve known you-
My health on a constant decline.
But, honestly, I didn’t care what they said.
I didn’t care that my health was at stake.
And despite how terribly you treated me, and probably will always treat me, my heart does not work maliciously.
I refuse to turn my back on you.
Because I still love you.
And I’ll never stop loving you.
But today I’m cutting the strings that you used, for so long, to control me.
I’m not a wooden inanimate object so I shouldn’t be treated like one.
My heart is made of flesh and blood.
It beats like yours and it feels pain like yours.
Ask yourself how many times I hurt you.
Now ask yourself how many times you hurt me.
The disparity you’ll find is because I tried desperately to shield your heart from pain.
You never cared to do the same.
Yet I still love you.
I’ll always love you.
Only difference is, I’m in control now.
I’m not a marionette,
and you’re not my puppeteer.

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The Darkness

Darkness has fallen early from the storm that just passed.
The sound of thunder rumbling has come to a sudden halt.
Birds have silenced their chirps as they sought shelter from the rain.
The gloom that transpired inevitably affecting one’s psyche.
Sullen is my mood as I lay in bed
Staring outside the window while clinching my pillow.
Memories flooding my mind and adding to the desolate atmosphere
Overtaken by exhaustion and sickness
Must I get up?

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Follow Your Heart

Everyone always says to follow your heart,
as if it’s not what I’ve always done from the very start.
What do you do when you’re constantly being challenged?
When your dignity, value, and worth have been infringed?
Not just once, or twice, but multiple times.
Between love and hate, there are very thin lines.

Everyone always says to follow your heart,
but when you finally do, they say you’re not smart.
What do you do when you become numb with pain?
When a pile of ash that was known as a heart is all you contain?
What becomes of ash when it is divided further?
These are words that I shouldn’t even be required to murmur.

Everyone always says to follow your heart,
and I’ve always believed in second chances and fresh starts.
What do you do if you’re inflicted with more sorrow?
Then one must remember that there’s always tomorrow.

Follow Your Heart
Text as image to form image. Via Adobe Photoshop.


Whenever you regain faith, you begin to feel a sense of guilt about everything.
You regret the things that you have done and the things that you do.
You even regret the people in your life who love you most.
You block people out of your life and treat them coldly.
You should realize that regaining faith should never make you treat those that you love like an enemy.
Remember, those that you love are loved for a reason.
They are those who have stood by your side through the tumultuous relationships you shared.
You cannot change who you are by the guilt that surrounds you.
Don’t let this feeling ruin what is possibly the best thing that ever happened to you.
Not everyone is lucky enough to find a person in their life who loves them unconditionally.
It’s good to be conscious and remorseful of the wrong that you do,
but it’s the greatest tragedy to let your conscience tear into your relationships.
Embrace the faith that you have revisited, but relinquish the guilt that makes you hurt the ones you love.

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Feeling uneasy from thoughts that flood my mind.
Thoughts that make my vision blurred and force me to take things out of context.
Making me view the perfectly proportionate out of proportion.
Fearing the loss of love will kill you.
Worrying about the loss of interest will make you lose control.
If only I wouldn’t take everything to heart.
If only I was able to let things go.

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It’s hard to separate the present from the past.
It’s harder to separate the past from the future.
Questions will be asked to ensure everything is ok.
I’ve forgiven, but how can I possibly forget?
It’s part of who I am to worry.
As far back as I can remember, I worried.
Do my inquisitions bother you?
Do they push you away?
I hope not.
As crazy as it sounds, I only want what’s best.
But, as we are fully aware, I’m crazy.
Maybe what I want and see as best is truly annoying you to death.
I hope not.
But, I’m crazy.
Maybe my perception of reality is only a mirage.
What I do know is that I’m happy.
Really, truly, deeply, wholeheartedly- I’m happy.
And I have you to thank for it.

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A fusion of poetry and the theory and practice of New Media

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