cristian's wordpad & lingering thoughts

dose of Cristianism & other absurdities.

Posts by Cristian Leonardo

spellbound hellhound. (a latino man’s overarching poem turned unfinished short-story detailed in excruciating sentiment and honesty)

Posted on January 1, 2021

spellbinding is the term used to describe when you’re holding complete attention of someone, almost as if it were something magical; indescribably intoxicating. have you ever felt light brown eyes lock into your soul, eyes surrounded by the most perfectly tailored bronze skin, like if you crushed up jupiter and sprinkled the dust over an empty canvas, took neptune melted it into paint and used brush strokes like van rembrandt. rolled out a red carpet entrance to ones soul, these…windows surrounded by a sandy visage, complexion smoothed out like camera obscura. such a vicious assessment. have you ever broke silence with a moan? stopped time with a touch? felt a butterfly turn into a lion right in your stomach? why are you such a…

syrup pt. 2 (2nd volume to syrup- a follow-up on intimacy)

Posted on October 27, 2020

she’s smiling cheek to cheek, wide veneer cheshire feel my eyes tether through your bed side this that pressurized, bend-her-over sex drive the entry to her treasure room, legs wide find you in the vestibule, whisper at your back side cause vigors’ just a side effect to when i imbibe if pleasures just a mental boost i take pleasure in these mental boosts every damn time every touch explodes, fingers foot soldiers on a land-mine something better be boiling on the inside finger trace narcotic curves. im on a daze can’t i? concentrate on what God unfurled? my pussy. you love it when i commentate on what i deserve but you hate when i try to say that im unheard undulating hyper-wave has gone…

syrup pt 1

Posted on October 21, 2020

what do you feel, when you apply the sentience? besides wall pinning. and drizzling fire sessions momentary silence, pin drop in an empty room padded wall. effervescent, and sensual feeling your feminine voice telegraph vibrations through many a noise millenias not enough time to fix things we destroyed i feel violated. pass me the void barely observant. just an impressionable boy unpacking post traumatical memory noise your electrical currents, blend into words ready to work, to have me possessed, like your serveant invested, alluring. the rest is concerning subway network connecting my brain muscle memory. where her head would lay tapping longing lust in this mental frame karma sucks & its seems that way cause i feel she turns the other cheek when i…

super conservative (the poets descent into the ‘convenience’ of a sudden rejection)

Posted on October 17, 2020

if…I get to the point where no ones’ love embroiders me,I’d mix the oils, clay, and color coordinate the sordid seamsavoid distaste. annointed is the day shes holding mehoist your rose colored lies on a crown of thorny leaveshearing voices, and allof them enjoy to screamtend to open wounds, forget the ointment and gauzenirvanas intensely consoling. and im pointing to Godfor answers. for pensive motions, for something to wantmemorized medusas feet, & my neck is at oddsalleged moments, you put me through in the darkmemory wash, collective dullness, deafness and sobtook years to look at you in the eye, and your tear ductsthe only thing set to stone was the mountain between usconsider the fact, were considering redactingwhats upsetting to me, isnt your lack…

me reflecting on unavailable women, whether it be emotionally or by status (succinct poem)

Posted on August 3, 2020

they’repsychoanalyzing my pride. I’m ignoring the obviousa war vet with ear plugs on the fourth of julyyou’re that pyrotechnic glow on my mindthis memoir a token of antisocial expressionour vermillion bond, was anecdotal at bestdemoralizing. you’ll only ever see it as a victimless crimesiphoning bits and pieces of our symphony’s chimesitting in my oval office with petitions to signwrithing in, inconsistency, not filling in shoes fit to sizeconcealing true entities. revealing my shrinethe answers rhetorical, when i ask who am i?enough of the superstition. my existential crisisto feel like i kiss your iris, everytime i think your eyelids

alma (revised half decade old poem with a modernized touch)

Posted on May 11, 2020

Look …over a quarter of my sentences begin with ellipsesthe objective’s to sigh. the intent it carries? illicitmalicious design leaves my lips, but ends so benignthere ain’t a problem when it rains- you couldn’t tell that i criedit becomes complicated to explain- when it wells in my eyehe pretends that he’s not, even though he bottles up the painlocks it in a cage, then polishes his crooked crownused to looking down, when things aren’t looking upone day life’ll flash before my eyes;not sure if that flash is good enoughbeen given a gift to scribe every moment as happenedwith more details. more girth, more exposure, and factorsmere fractions of seconds, become volume seriesweeks of dejection becomes your lifes communal theoryconsummate. times snapped. here’s a problem…

bondage (our chains, are invisible, but trust me, they’re there.)

Posted on May 4, 2020

inept, and upset, it’s like nothing is mentioned.lifes a run on sentence, interconnecting.eclectic, electric, im a plug in the wall.a bit so perplexive. spotting the occult in the psalms.the rejection. a song in the hall of this crazy asylumstraitjacket is off, and i still feel like i’mbindedabstaining. no hiding. not restrained or assignedwhat’s a goon to a goblin, what’s 12 noon to this bondage?loudspeakers.shouts weaken as i interrupt the connection.been seasons since I slept at the suns’ dusky consentgrayscale cuts. as lovely as everIt’s only fear if we love to project iti’ve learned to accept it, in a functional senseinflections infecting, so fucking intenseinflux of attention. but none to respectfound you by looking at your pendant glow in the dark on your neckdefunct. so…


Posted on April 8, 2020

it’s my inner voice. bragging and shy. so very coy abruptly impassioned in its perilous joy panicking. sulking. abdicate holiness. i salivate at the thought of having you hold me heartbeat in my abdomen slowing rapid eye movement. palindrome dreaming what is the meaning? we battle of the Alamo’ed the last of mohicans i lament having spoken, “i love you and mean it” there wasn’t any valid attempt to salvage our dreaming no valiant feature. no heroine vouching for just palindrome sequence. folklore and pretense commodore drowning with his diamond princess and dreadnought boat Goliath’s visage over david’s corpse and slingshot stones a picture worth a thousand words, abstract distortion how happy id be, if i didn’t have to be coping passive aggressive when…

Orwellian (my battle with depression, dysmorphia, anxiety, body image, eating disorder, perfectionism, and the ongoing back-and-forth with oblivion)

Posted on November 13, 2019

may my last words be half-slurred and cathartic so & so’s favorite blue jeans stained with tear drops & saliva head cradled in their lap, eyes barely widened my interventions’ HQ will be besmirched within silence my shoulder blades girth played role of a harbinger the bonier they got; the more i wished i was a skeleton malnourished, malevolent, maladjusted malaise talking in malformed metaphors to try and explain that there’s a concession of an all-dead jury saying my name prosecutor in a straitjacket who thinks I’m insane reading taped push signs over doors tailored to pull judges with mallets in the same shape of my skull my past lives failed me. pantomime in his glass house flailing glass eyed, no boundaries. highly contagious…

july 19th (3)

Posted on August 7, 2019

he’s unsorted. unabashed. formal with his emotions. unashamed. vulnerable worn as a sash on thunderous days. sport a badge of honor stained with the blood of cain. what’s her name? love lost. lust loves to come in gangs. my father never asked if i’m ok. he told me he forgave me for what we brang. brought. sorry. when i’m in pain, my language crosses barriers all the same. rain forest. brain blots. lost in my badge of honor. should i say, i’m sorry? i’m not to blame. fuck that motherfucker fuck that motherfucker fuck it. flames. distraught and caught in daze. there’s days i question, am i supposed to be gone? hoping to holy father that i’m totally wrong. rotary dial. noticeable drama. rusty…


Posted on July 24, 2019

he’s sitting in his shadow match lit. iron sight shifting with his arrow da vinci with a trebuchet. resentment at a younger age don’t think i’ve ever fucking been the same stay still please, so i don’t have to ever aim. heartbeat on my cabernet, gospel on the interlude never into hurting you; but that’s probably hurting you want to hear you love me, but that’s my crawling incertitude I’m sorry. you’ve heard it… too… many times loose lips sink ships on the new delhi line blueberry, thyme, seattle fog on the bloomsbury dime anxiety finds a new adversary for you every time kavinsky playing nightcall nightfall addict. gun-slinging, moonlight absorber eyeball static, upbringing made me too primed for torture leukocyte warlord with a…

boys don’t cry

Posted on July 16, 2019

I’m over evolving. dopamine soberly blossoms noted and jotted in, like an old scripture bludgeoning forecast, people make what they want of him hold whispers. cold shivers. so obviously rigged language is bothering. thunderstorm on the brink on the cusp of oblivion, and never stopping to think or wonder, what wanderlust awaits waverly love dozens foreshadowing. waving red flags like the waging of war bare footed resolve. homosapien scourge black pen granule dissolving. technicolor gradient torch collateral damage. animal bondage lion with his crown of thorns and his lioness hostage i knew you didn’t love me and it wasn’t a matter of knowledge it was a matter of topics. you never mentioned before casualty tally at the head of the door lambs blood painting…

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