stuck depot
*If you can see my heart,
then you know where it beats,
look further at the furnace, you’ll feel the heat.
Don’t underestimate my humility
before yours becomes shallow, like a stream of crickets.
Never paint me white on a fence of futility;
I’m all vivid and abstract in a gated community.
No paintbrush can compare.
This is no ego (I’m fully aware).
‘’They say fake it till you make it,’’
But where’s the scene if no one's in it?
I know where my heart is,
I discard letters from Cupid.
When I clip the smiles, there’s no need to edit,
when I post these files, I don’t beg for likes.
This cherry amulet is no button to smash.
We must treasure this magical jewel!
Yesterday’s lights just shimmered and flashed.
This life is a short road and I need to dash,
feathery hands can’t lift the iron of nostalgia,
funny expressions rendered in a mirror
while my shadow partially refracts it.
Lens fixed with trepidation squint through blinds,
the best chain to wear is sweet seclusion.
Frozen tongues swivel in a twister of conversations.
My thick skin surpasses the army.
(I need no gang to protect my boundary).
When the cherubs of heaven are with me.
Society may cut me into fine strips of paper,
yet its scissors are dull and slack.
Where’s Chronos when you need him?
Is he running from the cosmos?
I wish he would freeze in front of me,
giving me time to rehearse.*
proud flower