Tag: enjambment

crush

crush

Cristian Leonardo

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 do-or-die sword code
DNA punching out morse, cause the nuclei’s disordered
sobering negative. gripping a metal shank alloy.
overly sensitive programming on this self aware android
therapists that call me the armchair nutcase
trying to turn back to bugged versions of his software update
i stop to stare into your eyes, perfect, oval shaped opals, like russian dolls holding more jewels in them like an enigmatic invention
a hundred soft, hazel static connections, like joules that gather intent, that teach me there aren’t lessons in every traumatic event

nameless

nameless

Cristian Leonardo

it’s almost time
for a confessional. let’s bathe our feet while we dance
sediment wash. baptism in the chemical sand
trekking through the barriers that barely stand
in touch with invariance.
writing love letters. barely legible; sun setters
cantaloupe sky. dusk settles. what’s warm love in november?
it’s cranberry cheeks. your tongue tingling. teeth
surrendering ourselves to eruption. lungs blistering. freeze
i’ve talked to god on occasion. mention mary and seph’
carried a mountain on my shoulders through a valley of death
i’ve longed for delay. had a walk through nirvana
hoisted a banner reading ‘i want to be craved’
we just want to be loved. we just want to partake.
on a trotting that doesn’t involve being numb
noticed your aura carrying breath of life to grave diggers
make their shovels change to pens like shape shifters
paint pictures. plant seeds that proceed to out wait winter
gasp. breathe. then watch spring make way
that was a metaphor for how fruitful you are
when i think of kissing you, my fitbit thinks I’m working out
and when i talked to you
my fitbit said my heart rate slowed down
that’s just testament to how you slow time down

and
it works out.
want to spend time with.
lets cascade, the sky, rip.
over to
your face visage. that’s engraved under eyelids
to my future lover. i’ll consume you like no other
keep you fluttered. keep you covered. with an influx of these crimson colored kisses
mission: smother. mission: touch her….
heart, create a spark that dwells deep within ventricle walls.
imagining ember blaze, rinsed with a dab of my tender gaze
create mendable art. candlelit wicking flame
absolutely delicate. trapping in shadow
everything’s past tense. everything matters
speaking weakly under covers. cheeks in blush
proceed to hush the noise. drown the sound.
unsheathe the void
asleep we touch.
wake up. innocent eyes. glistening. tithe.
as morning UV bathes our skin with it’s dye
remember this line; we could drift forever without an anchor
pigment alignment.
so fluid. our loose lips could sink battle tankers. finger paint on each other within our silence

what the fuck do i do

what the fuck do i do

Cristian Leonardo

the moon the moon
the moon the sun
the sun the moon
press mute
succumb
doomed doomed doomed
I’m doomed. we’re done
who who who
are you
who are us? collusion
contusions.
you’re a cup of hot chocolate
on the fiercest winter morning
feel the blisters forming
whistle through the windows
pixelating percentage
whistling. cold air
whistling dixie
through the windows
it’s snowing.
frost on the glass
particle splat
icicles look like christmas ornaments
your silence
makes me question myself
i was too human
too human. too human
too godamn human.
too.
human.
(everywhere i put a period, is a moment in the story where i teared up and cried)
.
..
.
i fucking, maybe i should’ve danced.
that one time
that one time(.)
maybe that would’ve changed something
that one time that
one time
hot chocolate woman cup
god damnit. open up
do i remain robotic?
or do i remain human!
robot. beep booop
robust. beep boop
my safe full of cold guns
beep boop.
.
.
what do i do with you?

fire breather

fire breather

Cristian Leonardo

I’m a fucking fire breather.
Breathing fire. Eating dragons, for breakfast
who wants some? None of you do
I’ve held back for quite some time
exerting no strength
Ball of fire. Giving the sun spots
ink blots and think thoughts
disregard your discourse
munching on mantras, making mistakes

barely

i learn from them
wake up from nightmares hardly impressed
more creative next time, brain
laughable sequence, you could never understand
i ain’t lazy
just smart
you work hard i work smarter
catch a sneeze in the air
yelling from the sidelines
telling mayweather his footwork is scarce
looking at my mile times like godamn how old is too old to compete in the olympics?
facebook shows me gold medal ads the next day
your ads probably have bronze medal ads.
investing in bronze exports. making a killing
thanks for losing to me. still winning
dumb down my vocabulary to be able to talk
seto masochistic flair pops up when lactic acid settles in
i will say though, my only weakness is knowing when to try

do
i do it or not

do i love you or not? it’s the only time
where I’m clueless. i love it.
I’m scared of these dungeons i’ve never visited before
i barely gave you a chance
only because I’m terrified of defeat
but i’m oddly attracted to how you make me listen to you
not by force
by this weird thing called
love, perhaps
it’s the only thing i can’t decipher
so i try to break it down

molecule by atom
acid and protein
muscles and madness
deconstructing everything into dust
but i didn’t need too
never did
I’m only figuring that now
masqueraded dominance with self love
self deprecating jokes were my crux
like, you came out of nowhere

right there

but nowhere
RIGHT THERE. but nowhere
solving puzzles in seconds
nice one on the wall.
visit art galleries just to figure them out
i know where you thought your last thought, picasso
no escaping my big brain
but you, oh you
i can’t figure anything out. and it’s

RIGHT THERE.

where? right there
she’s right here, cristian
where? there.
my heart?
maybe. but right there. whisper
right there
tinier text. right

there

i remember once i was in mexico
strutting the city streets. and my game was
to memorize everybody’s face for 5 minutes.
needless to say i did that, and i saw them later
walking.
they didn’t know who i was
it was the hardest i ever pushed my brain
i slept for half a day. then went hiking
it wasn’t a pointless story.
those faces
we’re right there. the whole time
as were you.
not you physically. but. you.
you know?

right there

mad scientist

mad scientist

Cristian Leonardo

you mix gunpowder and moments, of silence
and gather components you’d author with smiles
combustible crossover.
gifting a locket, heart shaped alloy, wish upon a asteroid comet
it’ll turn to debris before it reaches to me
countdown from three, wishing a frown obsolete
douse gasoline, that set blaze to decree
miscellaneous mundane, missiletoe mainframe
hypnotize what lingers in me, complex emotions
compartmentalizing alone
left alone in your apartment
high-rise affectionate tease
was used to darkness from sun rise- till sun shivers
and then i’d only see it when you’d
stand in front of me, shut eyes with your fingers
pressed mute with your kisses, tell the moon to revisit
at a later date
neck, shoulder, premeditation
escape  
from your inner desire, and overture taste
melanin eye, brown sepia. tell me my lies.
skeleton sky. clouds breaking off into these lines
where sound waves-get soft, & decibles dice
where consensual lust, rears it’s head in and tithes
gives a percentage of care, pretend to be bare
you only said what you said to dissect what was rare
those are your words. foreword. fast forward, ball of mass in a chokehold, ozone layer of old words layered, strapped over my torso, I’m so… so angered. hormones anchored to you, apropos the flavor. addicted to it. postpone my conflicted prayers. I’m such a sicko. i hate it. like a mad scientist wanting to create frankenstein but can’t,  I’m mal aligned. attack of the titans, a clash of indecisive i cants. i can’t, not decipher the feelings, let me rot and writhe. holding a wallet picture of us in my pocket insides. wanting to gift it. arduous. physics. trying to stop what I’m thinking.

but can’t

naivety

naivety

Cristian Leonardo

i guess this is a letter to young me, and as old me having dominion over young me, and the fortune of being older and equipped with technology and the dream of possibly time traveling by watching too much sci-fi, or something- and possibly giving you this letter.

dear little boy,

this is older you. and if you don’t believe me, read this letter and I’m sorry for telling people you thought you could handle the worlds pain, silly goober. but here it is: (sorry if you don’t understand a word or two, but by now you’re probably reading dictionaries, soooo not so sorry)

here i (we) am (are) again.
i was naive when i was a boy.
i (we) still am (are)! but… not quite as adorably
with good intentions
but i have a story
my family used to tell me about the bad things happening around the world
how people suffer when they die
when they’re hungry
when they’re raided from their homes
how i should be grateful
i had food. and a house.
i was okay. i would run and be happy!
i used to feel so empathetic
energetic. endless energy.
truly a kind soul that wanted good things for everyone
as a boy i thought i was superman
i’d tell myself,
“god, can you let everyone’s pain in the world just affect this one little portion of my body? for ten seconds! i can handle that i promise! don’t listen to my mom! i’m strong! she’s just trying to protect me. i don’t want people to feel pain. isn’t that good?”
of course it never happened.
little did, little me know, that, the wish i made that day
wasn’t a smart one
sometimes i feel it came true, but as an adult.
as if god is too busy taking orders from wishes and prayers, and he finally got to me when i was
20 something.
god didn’t ask me if i still wanted it, despite being two decades old.
god just gave it to me. expedited delivery.
it just hit me.
or maybe it didn’t.
maybe this is just the pain and suffering my family told me about
maybe it’s normal, maybe
as a child you need to be hugged and loved
so so so so hard that the love has this everlasting effect that sort of negates the pain you eventually feel
i wish there was a way you could measure how strong you are
nobody gives a shit, though.
how mentally strong you are.
you can measure your physical strength.
but what about your mental strength?
i want to get stronger, still
every time i conquer the unconquerable
i feel a sense of happiness. relief. strength
but i can’t help but wonder… if the same person a year ago would crumble under that pressure?
what if the person i am now can’t handle something in two years or two months from now?
i know it’s dumb to think of the future like that
but i just want to be prepared
i want to be able to continue to feel
how a little boy version of me did, at one time
sometimes, glimmers of that boy shine through
the man i am today
but it’s short lived
how do i sustain such confidence?
how and what can i learn from a boy?
a lot actually
that boy is this man.
that boy dreamed of a man like me
to help him be the man like me
but he didn’t want the mind numbing obstacles
he wanted to not cry through it all
that boy used to count the days he didn’t cry
one month i haven’t cried
65 days, wow.
day 276 i haven’t cried
day 290
almost a year
i never made it a year.
but as i got older, my cry calendar fell beneath
my credit card mail, my tax returns
and love letters by many women
and well, i marked x’s on a lot of days
as i got older
got discouraged
so i threw it out
i wish i could tell that boy, that his cry calendar
was something he didn’t need
and what he did need was someone to cry on
a shoulder, so to say
I’m sorry for the shoulders i inadvertently cried on
the ones that approached me because they saw a sweet boy
and not someone who used you as a pillow to cry on
i didn’t mean to, i just couldn’t hold it in
i do apologize
but I’m starting to cry less now
think less now
i don’t ask god anymore for my old wish
rather i ask for strength
to help myself, first. so i can help others
there’s a reason airlines want you to put your oxygen mask on first
cause if everybody was helping each other it’d be a fucking mess
or if one little boy tried to help everyone at once
then everyone would asphyxiate
help yourself first
then you can have your wish
strong, little boy. kudos for never wincing or grimacing at anything, from your first shots, to playing bloody knuckles to breaking bones, hands, and the grueling, over the top body routine, you did in your teenage years.
you are strong. no doubt about it.
but love yourself first, little man. I’m sure 37 year old me will tell me this, too. even if I’m too believe by everyone that, i do indeed know it all. (that was sort of a joke)
if you can love a little more. fucking do it.
i cant wait

love, 27 year old leonardo.

i love you

(ps hug your family and friends more often. don’t half ass it)

you knew

you knew

Cristian Leonardo

it’s bittersweet. grapefruit sauvignon. rose stained cherry motif
nightmare on wax on repeat. please beware of the beast
swiping left. recurring sentiment, pattern repeat
didn’t fall in love with your pictures. fell in love indiscreetly
deciphering flaws, explicating subtle jungian traits
brains defensive mechanism. delegating safety restraints
decoding reflexive emotive. premeditative distaste
automatic, chemical composition innate
features built to delay or forego any possible symptom
of a broken heart, hemoglobin battle wound syndrome
saline suture. calculating how different you are
4am trip to neverland, not a trip to the bar?
borderline blasphemy. there’s times you cry over art
shit you gotta do alone, shit others could never remark
distinguish aquatic serene, underwater nautical scene
scraping off necrotic flesh your hands singed off my being
i wasn’t weird, i was rare. pseudo nominal dream
all circles around compatibility, malleable personage boost
8oz serving with juice. lime chaser and incertitude
enucleated review, i wonder if those winks were signaling doom
i don’t know everything, some swear that i do
to my prophetic odes of text i promptly construed
maybe it’s curse. mineralize moments of malice
materializing minute by minute, hours go vanished
learning to apologize to my fists when dripping in red
how dare me use them for writing and use them for sin
learning to love myself even though i hate when i fall
staring at bloody gauze when i get up from it all
found safe haven disguised in the words that he spews
who knew all you had to do was wipe his tears from his view
who knew all you had to do
was wipe tears from his view
who knew it had to be you
who knew i stop writing when it hurts
who knew you had to wipe tears
who knew tears didn’t hurt when you touched them
who knew i had to stop writing
right
here

so little, little

so little, little

Cristian Leonardo

why am i here again

why does it matter?

handle with care. these items are fragile
wear a mask and lie to your closest, Keyser Söze display
let’s erode together, hold my rusty hand in the rain
tin man toppling, iron giant in grave
hear the fucking rain pound it’s way on my armor
using my metal like drum sets you pawn at a shop
discontinued discounted item left on the shelves
try-me! buttons as the battery fades
buzz light year rotary wind up doll, lullaby weak
sober man thinks drunken thoughts, just as he speaks
choking on my own blood, cause apathy, me
galloping scene, horseback, valiancy
it may not matter to you, but it matters to me
the dialogue of my backdrop. you can’t hear when i scream
driving on the interstate, windows open at three.
in the morning. just a blip in the radar
you’re still asleep while I’m on the brink of displacement
gargoyle stiff statue, while i get lost in a gaze
i’ve been holding on for too long and i know that it’s vague
using words like brink, sink and edge, they’re one in the same
tired of feeling tears fall off of my face
redirect the traffic, tired of no reciprocation when i reload the page
or reload the gauge, or reload the matrix
it happens when pain exceeds the resources for coping with pain
hold still in the mirror, whisper I’m sorry in latin
i only know how to say it, cause i knew this would happen
from day one to day two. behavior erratic
dilapidated homecoming. hello? is anyone there to collapse in
they don’t care. shot of stoli and absinthe
stare at the hole deep in the attic, hold me when i’m chugging
rosary pundit. they say depression causes lapses in judgment
the smoke from the cannon can be alluring to sadness
pretending i love myself was just one of the many
contemporary somethings, below my bellowing setting
saying hello, while I’m clinching on at the edge
where the sidewalk ends? let me make some amends
before i fall off, derail off normal trajectory
disorderly conduct off disorders. where is she?
the one that i prayed for? you said you’d deliver
so many questions, so little… little
so little

little

Protected: hellhound

Cristian Leonardo

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cloak and dagger

Cristian Leonardo

you’re

not what i dreamed of

or hoped for, that potential was reached

long before, i harbored emotions in secret

sophomoric sequence, plot twist i saw all along

held my breath for a year, lungs turn carbon to smog

another movie screening, hold hands in between it

reach maximum zenith, whisper “never leave me” under closed palms

so calm. never flinch. a wink and a nod

no blinking for three hours. let that sink in for awhile

lovers island. skipper of ol’ overly passionate

fingers stranded in your hair strands, bend over and ask me

a question, do i love you or not

fingertips touching your every hope. every cross

of fingers, wishing we would drift apart

I’m driftwood and you’re just another fish in the ocean

lake, spring, river whatever’s

spend an eternity painting a picture to think us together

calabaza picking. if i revisit you i get a feeling to itch

uneasy. breeze hits me, the wind changes, while each season commences

we get lazy. it’s insane. we never connect but still swing for the fences

up to my neck in words that don’t even exist

flood in my pharynx, like phalanxes fighting to fix

squad of anxieties i refuse to acknowledge

perusing the side of me i loosely demolished

smokescreen dagger. condensation hazy opaque

wheatgrass chronicle, diary dripping sanctity. lake

bedstand. siamese twin bed, oak crickety floors

the hole in the wall where my fist lived in before

unroot me where i stand, dandelion seed floating amiss

eve foliage, sin growing vivaciously when

there’s ..

quantities of flowers germinating in spring

blooms of orchids in rancor,

tempertantrum fills in the hue

rhythm and blue soapbox

sorted

chrysanthemums

most of its cloak and dagger

i know what i need 

Cristian Leonardo

I dont know what I want

whether its surface dwelling alone at the swamp
or an oak in a marsh, soul searching proverbial want
we’re more or less spawns of monsters nobody needs
you were my star spangled banner and I was taking a knee
subterranean breeze, vitamin pond, still smell your perfume
every once in a blue, Dahlia Divin creeps in the room
black lagoon creature. months of despondent malaise
never under the same moon, but always got in your way
every constant is change, every constant in chains
the sheriff to my merits, conversation warranted pain
follow the tunnel light or continue to walk amongst shade
politics, topic delay, boxer on the ropes
you taught me to love; but to love to be alone
a hundred teeth, sunk in deep, til’ they’re rusting at the bone
propaganda prone, post traumatic melodic drama
copacetic cathartic static, momentary sedative saga
mama said to me never mince words with misses karma
megabit verbage. sapient alma in the trenches of mock prison
velvet and soft linen, cotton henley makeshift pajama
couldnt figure you out…
kissed crevasses in your skin you were indifferent
about
you’re awkwardly distant to things that slipped through my mouth
look at you now..
Sinatra’s lovers glance, blood soaked sinful devout
the untolds dripping, gun smoke cigarette clouds
love grows thinner when sun strokes negligent doubt
what comes, goes.
hum low under floor boards or they’ll figure us out
self destruct sequence, count to zero with me
feel your feelings metamorph like metaphors in the breeze
i don’t know what i want, i just know what i need
better go home before I’m awoke and i see you
full of momentary passes focused entropy seams
beams of light bustling through cracks in the stream
pockets of time form like globules; we’d skip stones in ravine
everything’s too loud even when the volumes negative three
nothing we do can salvage this irreparable dream
que pena me da, que lo tienes sentir
shouted at you to leave, as i whispered the please

fötter day

Cristian Leonardo

you can hear the…

suburbia chime, zirconia vertebrae. pearly white spine
glass thrown in stone houses, regular suburbia night
whirring, rewind. chronicled childhood in olive drab paint
monocle glass. wormwood and bottles of shawshank.
dissolute solitude, wanderer who wallows in maze
en route. delay for tomorrow. never promised today
virgin diary. anne frank. marie curie disease
tinture of rainbow, even if the distance is blurry to me
he, who knows the way to zihuatenejo.
furlough father. demand you to die when i say so
26 pesos what’s left in your wallet
lint and mothball, merryland. experiment omelette.
laundromat arcade quarter exchange
2 o clock shadow of death and follicle strain
these boulders were supposed to be gone when i got here
you shouldered me off. sunday morning penny loafer with frost
social commentary gabriel-lucifer talk
metamucil, retrograde. jupiter star
bolivian roast, oblivion, and a toast goes to mars
you hold my hand; but i don’t even know who you are
shout at me when indoors, but whisper weak when afar
im so close to eroding, skin growth, barely a scar
in my house; the big wolf. lungs pulse til’ exhaustion
i read a suicide note from the ghost in my closet
i dont know, if he knows if this apartment is haunted
by patriarchal pettiness, reminiscent negligent heart
maleficent maligned distant/forgot insidious offspring
with ammunition in their lips, that keep you off guard
feel the metacarpal love letters til your fingers fall off
once you step out the door, you hear the wooden creak in the floor
fell asleep at the creek daydreaming before
everytime before bed i hear footsteps coming from deep
and i hide in my closet, until they delete
REM hits me while I’m counting my sheep
counting rosary beads for every step wolf takes towards me
like neighborhood freeze tag, counting to 3
dysfunctional beings, huffing in suburbia breeze
i know that i know nothing is in love when i speak
into denizens, the medicine cabinet creaks
when you close it and i haven’t heard it in weeks
form bourbon, to curtains burnt at the seams
I’m so close to being the opposite of perfect, i scream
what emerges, a bird sits perched in a tree
what alerts him is
suburbia breeze