Busy summer highway,
the same music on the radio,
but on a different continent.
I am moving forward, but my thoughts
They are stuck in the same place
Because that’s where I find you.
I have forgotten many things
Like the day of our first kiss
Or your mother’s first name
But I haven’t forgotten the way
You made me feel so much bigger than
I had ever thought I could be.
Everywhere I go today,
Jeeps are the cars right in front of me
Reminding me of you
And it feels like I am not supposed to forget
And it makes me wonder
If it is possible to remember and forget at the same time
Or if that,
given enough time,
Will tear my loving heart apart
until I forget
Who I really am-
Me without You.
A friend to you
...Laughing with you right now
over stupid things that are funny
...Listening to your troubles
and offering advise
...Picking up the phone
(like I have a hundred times before
but then I always eventually place it back down
remembering how when I have called in the past
our conversations were awkward
and you made it quite obvious didn't want to talk to me)
(but that's not my style
I don't want to not reach out to you
if you need me
why would you need me?)
( since this is what I go through almost daily
these conversations with myself over
what to do with my feud between
my heart and head over
what you mean to me
The best thing to ever happen to you
(you're just too wounded to believe)
Someone should rewrite the fairytales
To teach young girls,
Who haven’t yet had their heart broken
By the frogs they deemed to be princes,
The handsome prince
Is the one handing us the apple
That slowly poisons us from the inside
And that when the poison sets in
We might wish to sleep until
Prince Charming kisses us awake,
But that we might be stuck within a nightmare
That will only end
If we stab this prince of ours, instead of the dragon,
And realize that
The happy ending does not always mean
Riding off into the sunset together
Because sometimes the happiest ending of all
Is a girl walking away on her own
Realizing that she can one day be queen
A prince by her side
we talked about how I
seem to be noticing girls
more than guys.
how that the way some
of these beautiful women
heart skip beats
mind race with thoughts.
I thought maybe I could
control these feelings but
the dreams I have of the
faceless woman has shone
that I'm anything but
Warmth in human form, she wore an electrifying charm,
when she passed him from behind even without a glance,
his heart felt a yearning forgotten for a long time.
Prithee, mercy on me, his heart cried in the voice of an abandoned child,
didn't feel below his dignity to plead light to kiss his brows.
Then she gently turned back and smiled, grace transmitting her fragrance,
both were blessed by that moment, the caress of angel's wings.
One look of the girl evoked, a caring feminine lushness: mother, sister or lover,
her evanescence in him brought a pleasantness that lasted for long.
do you still check up on my words
to see if i've written anything new about you
like you did not long ago
or have you forgotten about
my hidden sentences
that i whisper onto the glowing screen
i can hear the wind chimes and the song
they sing to me is so sweet
my heart has been aching lately
for reasons unknown
the only thing i can think of
is that my soul feels too grounded,
this is not where i want my roots to be
cravings for adventure and the outside
world is becoming stronger each day
trying to fill the holes in my organs
with sweet nothings does nothing
new flavour is needed, for this is a new craving
please satiate my needs, i do not want to leave
if nothing else i want to stay
for a hundred years by your side
but please give me this
I'll give you a
piece of my
after you spare me
a token of your
I'll let you know
what I want to
and I'll even give
you a good place to
Why is the concept of being forgotten so paralyzingly terrifying to me?
Before the expanse of time,
none of us stand a chance of being remembered.
We will be swallowed up,
only be known as a statistic, a point of reference.
The thoughts we think are paramount
Quail before the laughing face of Time.
God will remember me,
so why do I care about what those on earth think?
Why do I care what people think?
What kind of sick bastards are we that we derive pleasure from others' pain?
Schadenfreude is alive and well
Unlike you and I
Why don't I throw up my hands
And succumb to the ravages of an indifferent Time
And an indifferent society
Why not let them win
Who values a game which is purposely weighted to one side
If not those who have waged something dear upon the outcome
The Ender inside me rejects the faulty system.
Why do I persevere for a "humanity"
which will never improve
the more we evolve and know and comprehend,
The more apt we are to be heartless
Because why do we need a heart when we have a brain, Tinman?
Why do we care what we look like
Our bodies are merely
borrowed from the earth
And in the blink of eternity's eye
what we call ours
will belong to another
Why do we live in a world overflowing with bodies
And entirely lacking with people
Why can we satisfy any part of ourselves
by draping on borrowed emotions
Why is the false more alluring than the truth?
Show me an honest person
And I will show you an attractive one.
I am not you
you are not me
And we will never be
Despite the pervading effort of our society
I will not be assimilated.
If we let people in,
They wouldn't hate
So why are we terrified of doing that
Is it because,
If everyone is in,
No one is
And in ceases to exist?
Why do we feel the urge to gloat about things we did not earn
Why does 1
Make more money than 2
Because his nose is straighter,
His hair is curly rather than straight,
Because 1 spends an eighth of his time in the gym
While the less attractive 2 spends 7/8 of his time
At a society which has cut off its own ears that it can't won't hear.
Why are random genes a judge of worth
While character is a word so overplayed
It folded its hand long ago
Why is the face of a beautiful liar
To that of a plain truthteller
And a world which whispers
Cradle me with your honeyed lies
Assurances of past lullabies
How do I trust what the mockingbird cries
When even it runs from the skies
Why do so many see ourselves as bound and controlled by manipulated strings
When those strings are nothing but ropes with which we can escape
Why do we live on top of one another
Without deigning to know our prisonmate
Without so much as a spared thought
For the dead flailing beneath us
Why do I hold dearest to my heart
Counting them as the tiny, insidious proofs
That I am a good person
Because good does not exist without the bad
Relativity is the grip keeping us from sliding
Why is it that words spoken can never be taken back?
Simple. We can never reclaim what was never ours.
You think you are original in your menial thoughts
What have you done but regurgitate the thoughts of your predecessors?
Rearranging the same letters
To form the same tiresome conclusions.
We are the worst type of plagiarists.
Why is the only thing propelling you a sense of duty
Why are you devoutly loyal to objects rather than the people who happen to hold them
Why do we invent reasons to hate one another
We take solace in the loopholes which justify our hatred
That we may not be like the "monsters" we condemn
Why are "we" and "they"
Not just markers of distance?
Why must they be very real, ubiquitous mentalities?
Why are somber topics the common stuff of jokes
Because we have grown numb enough to empathy
To shun it in favour of a laugh?
Why is suffering so prevalent
When we have an excess of affluence
Are such extremes what define us as a race?
Why is a white lamb the symbol of pristine innocence
When innocence is slaughtered day after day?
Why are sharks abhorred creatures even though
Our vicious attacks
Far outnumber theirs
Do we idealize them that we may have a reason
To assert our dominance over yet one more
To feel the joy of crushing them underfoot
Why do we focus on certain images
When the true image of our society
Is the person who occurs each day,
The answer is because we know
Are at fault.
Why when confronted about the tiniest aspect of ourselves
We rear our heads in defense
Backing up against the corner of idiocy
The walls built upon the truths we have fabricated
Why are the swirling armor of falsities so comforting
And when pierced
With every bit of the person we have built
Lashing out as does a dog chained its entire life
But even a dog
Which is after all "just an animal"
Is not fool enough to delude itself into loving its chain.
Flightless word, averted eyes
Hollowness etched on the outside
Such is sweet affection in pearly opaque disguise
With little time do make the most
Or to an empty heart you'll host
She arose a white rose
as pale as the insomniac moon
With a soul that looks like a candle lit vigil
glittering through the darkness
My heart did not beat
preferring to rumble with hunger
She's the Uma Thurman
to my Quentin Tarantino