cycle(s)

Darling,
I am juggling
with the vicious cycles that have incarcerated my vision.
This prison
is surrounded by those who have once thought
once thought that a rose would blossom in emptiness
darling, you are foolish
you will not find any nutrient
within my punctured veins.
Within a secluded dungeon,
I don’t see myself escaping.

I will be mapping out a dimension
able to withstand the vastness of my solitude.
I cry at the top of my lungs
alcohol on both sides of my arms.
Yet,
no one hears.
I envision the day
I silence my breath
I too hope
no one will be there.

It’s 4 in the morning.
I am still juggling.
I am addicted to the strangest of fantasies
such as diving into the soul
of a poisonous woman.
Her look so delicate
I couldn’t resist.
She couldn’t resist
to toss me into her abyss
made to deprive me of love.
I was jeopardized
by her inconsistencies.
She would follow me home
and capitalize on our desires.
She would follow him home
and I would know only now.

I exchange my happiness for your misery.
I thank you for the gift.
I drink hemlock
weep
sleep
and wake.
I am friends with the hemlock’s bitterness
best served with an abundance of lachrymose.
I find serenity
in their ascend.
My vicious cycle
cannot be emulated by another man.
It would be hard to believe
him tossed into an abyss like mine.

Your existence severed my will
to approach another woman.
I guess that means you’ll linger,
for yet
another year…

Brandon Choo