a poem about how difficult love is

there is no point in denying

that you would love to see me trying

to win your heart

but seduction is a form of art

and you are just a fault finder

copyright oceauxnic 2017



i wanted to kiss you so bad last night

my lips said no – twice –

although my insides screamed yes – twice –

it was so out of nowhere

the thought that you wanted to share

the way you taste with me

made me feel free

of worry and insecurities

but my past with him made me feel trapped

and i could not kiss you

even if i wanted to do it so bad

so, so, so fucking bad

– twice –

copyright oceauxnic 2017

aftermath of soul sharing

i made her immortal and she thinks it’s cute

it might be true… what people say

“one who does not like flowers has no soul”

soulless or not, i still love her

she’s got her own way of showing appreciation

colder, dry of emotion and a small smile to end it

yet, she still makes me feel like i get a glimpse

into the paradise each time i watch her be

and that is enough for me

copyright oceauxnic 2017

a poem about carmen

you move like the ocean

and look like the sky at dawn

even in the morning light

i could still see stars shining

in the iris of your eyes

and when the smoke protrudes your lips

i wonder just how one so wonderful

does not like flowers

perhaps when your turn to walk on earth came

the universe wanted to create

a vessel similar to the one

worn by ancient gods and royalties

so alluring, yet indecipherable

like an artwork by Dali

copyright oceauxnic 2017

Falling out of love too quickly

You see, I have this problem… I come across certain things, such as TV shows, books, random objects, sometimes even people and start to obsess over them.

Day and night I would think about them, look up information about them, create artwork which was inspired by them. I cannot breathe, I cannot eat, I cannot sleep because I want more of them.

This obsession, however, lasts for a very short period of time.

Infatuation. That’s what it is.

Once it is over, I no longer care about the stuff that once fueled my existence.

And that scares me. A lot. Knowing that I have become the type of person I fear most.