The poem from the burning painting video

The world smells like ashes
from the sky comes the sound of cellos
from above watches
no one

All the women in my land are depressed
how could they not be
under the weight of their braids
the glass, the clay
and the salt

All the men in my land are depressed
they burn in the flames
their fathers started
the fume of their fire
haunts their moustaches

All the birds in my land are flightless
even the bravest eventually fall
in the hands of the emperor

The houses in here smell like despair
the bricks they were built with
are made of fear

The books around here
are unfinished
the poetry is one letter
and the holy books harbor sin

The clouds in my land have no shape
no weight and no color
they don’t cry but they suffer

The children around here ask no questions
the wonder in their eyes is an empty room
and a scared mother

All the trees in my land are cut early
we don’t like dissentient beauty
it makes us worry

The doors around here stay shut
they open sometimes for a hunt
but ultimately
we don’t like handles

The lights around here shiver
we try to make them steady
by standing in front of a mirror
in the dark

All the gods in my land hate us
everyday they show us
how they wish
they never made us

The dogs around here never bark
they know it’s pointless
so they also stand in front of a mirror
in the dark

The time around here doesn’t pass
it’s a pyramid of hands
holding the past

All the roads in my land are dead ends
we cross them
knowing where they lead

The lakes around here have no rivers
just like us
they question their identity

The schools around here teach silence
we bite our palms
we bite our words
we swallow their venom

All the flags in my land don’t flutter
they cover the dead
they cover the living
they smother

The glass of our skyscrapers reflects war
it reflects the blood
the sweat and the tears
and the horror of it all

All the art in my land
is stale
all the ideas are banal
it’s all predictable
our mad
our groundbreaking
our bizarre

Fire is what we need
fire is what we must meet
we must burn our tents
and our strings
and our spines

To earn rebirth
we must set ablaze
our universe



i think of you
more than i talk to you
i think i think i think
i think of you so untrue

i think of you
late in the afternoon
your hands slick and busy
I think of your eyes
the heat of your gaze
making me feel dizzy

sometimes i worry
this will brand me
the need for this contingency
to gradually
unfold me

i think of you
early in the morning
your lips insistent and heavy
i think of your voice
the softness your tone
coaxing me

sometimes i worry
this would be empty
your image gets blurry
i want you
to fill me

i think of you late at night
before my vision get hazy
i think of your arms
the warmth your embrace
blinding me

this is foreign
and kind of muddy
it feels like autumn
dipped in honey

it feels like
we’re walking on thin ice
and it starts cracking
every time i look
into your eyes



Everything I have written
looks like you eventually
even words before you
were for you

You make me think
of honey,
the lightest of greens
everything lucky,
warm, and fuzzy

Your touch is heavy
on the top of my soul
crushing and melting
the remnants of the mountain
of my self control

I keep your words
under my pillow
to chase off sleep
I keep your voice
as a scarecrow
to fight off

And you, I keep you
at the bottom
of the bottom
of the deep end
of my abyss



I can’t drown in the same pond twice
never done it
won’t do it
not as long as I’m alive

I have taken this road before
we are exactly where we were
the same cloud
by the same ship
by the same shore

I can’t help you re-shove
that knife in my flesh
not when cuts I have
are more than enough

I have to stop
hearing the music
that plays in only my head
over and over
like a chronic throb

I have to quit
scratching that unappeasable
before it burns
everything I built

Don’t say my name
ever again
avoid it
like you’d avoid taking
the lord’s name in vain

The doors must remain
to immortalize
that nothing will
ever be the same



Don’t let the restless nights fool you
nor the turning
nor the counting

I don’t need rest to raise hell
the sun inside me
rises 5 times a day

Don’t let the reckless thoughts trick you
nor the pointless words
nor the sand

I cannot be trapped
even when I’m in a minefield
in an hourglass

Don’t think that my soft voice is weakness
nor the blushing
nor the tears

My delicacy never stopped me
from stabbing god
in his sleep

Don’t mistake my silence for obedience
nor forgiveness
nor peace

I am of the sea
and the wind
and the fire
that buried men
without a sound

Every time you forget
who you wronged
drop to your knees
and pray to your lord
hell hath no fury
like a woman scorned



if you don’t catch the magnets
when the pull is at its finest
you get used to
their absence

now gravity’s under the bridge
the magnets looking for it
and you’re on a ship
headed to a ditch

if you don’t wrap the silk
around the pot when it’s hot
you waste
the boiling milk

but the milk was spilled
and the tears were shed
and the silk was ripped
everything seeping
all is bled

if you don’t put the flowers in a vase
the thorns grow bigger than the blossoms
it’s a power race
so make a garden
forget the chase
root for the petals

but the orchids have died
and now they’re just sticks
in a dry bucket of moss
you toss away the sick
and minimize the loss

if you don’t keep the stamps
the letters never make it
they’re taxed and damned
forever lost
in the fog and the mist

but the stamps don’t exist
and the letters are in the trash
eternal goodbye they were kissed
yet some of them were buried in the cracks

moral of the story
if you keep flipping that hourglass
you’ll end up basking in the glory
of messing all the math
and missing all the paths