IM FINE
I'm not fine
please help me
IM JUST TIRED
i cant take
this anymore
I ALREADY ATE
i starve myself
GO AWAY
please stay
IM JUST COLD
i dont want
you to see
my scars
IM OK DONT WORRY
i just want to die

yes I'm FINE
Freaked out
Insecure
Nervous  
Emotional

sometimes i push people away to see who
cares enough to
stay

faultless picture of a girl
behind a flower as she twirls
strands of hair fall on her cheeks
she sees me staring as time ticks

as the light from the sky gleams
her beauty of inside also beams
how come there is an odd connection
from faultless girl of perfection

I'm very good with numbers; Always been inside my brain
They freely shift and move about; Allowed to dance and play
However, one equation baffles and confuses me
That one plus one will equal two; This is not what I see

It's people who must be confused; Wrong value they give "one"
Because the single integer alone can't have much fun
It's only with another "one" first one will come to life
With purpose, reason, starts to smile; Now feeling satisfied

The presence of the second one gives first one happiness
When one is standing all alone life has not much to give
Can not survive a vacuum; It is dark and empty space
No digit there to interact; One's value just a waste

Some people disagree with me; Say one is fine alone
And doesn't need another one for value to be shown
I don't completely disagree but my experience
That I feel most fulfilled with life when I receive and give

The elegance of the exchange; Where miracles exist
Life's greatest gift is that of love but with it there's one twist
How it takes two to tango; Love is not a solo dance
To give another all your heart is taking a big chance

But can't compare reward to risk; The blissful ecstasy
Cause "one" is more like just a half but with love it's complete

Even in darkness there will be a lit candle to show the way

We just have to believe

It’s light will be enough to light the world

We just have to believe

Even in times of hardship things will work out

We just have to believe

Even when there’s hate love will win out

We just have to believe

When darkness is all around in the end light will prevail

We just have to believe

Light a candle and help light up the world

I wish I could tear myself apart just to get rid of the scars they left me.

With its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star
As remote and candid
I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
Distant and full of sorrow
So you would've died
One word then, One smile is enough
And I'm happy;
Happy that it's not true

I Die Daily
Daily I am Born

Life and Death
Both are my Friend

Death is Lovely
Life is ****

Death is Cool
Life makes us Fool

Death is inevitable
Life may fail

I like my daily Death
No tension at all

Sleep is my daily death
I enjoy it after all

The night seems delicious,
Glazed with chocolaty darkness
Embellish with starry star
Resonance of laughter
Vibrations of delirium
Scent of seduction
Intoxication filling up
Enthusiasm circulating around
Quintessential it truly is

it’s a beautiful thing
this day and age
with bubbling permafrost
with drug-resistance
with obesity treatments
with technological advancements
with scientific discoveries
with silent wars
with blue lava
with bleeding glaciers
with divorce
with sensitivity
with my generation
of people believing
this new generation
is completely and
utterly clueless as a
common occurrence

but let’s think about
what these kids are
into nowadays.

let’s think about who
invented these inane
things for the kids.

my generation of people.

so the kids of today are
the ones who are ******
for liking the things
that we’ve created?

I’m sorry but we have to
be the ones who are obtuse
for believing such things,
oblivious for not
realizing them and
showing the world
we have
little or no imagination
anymore.

the generation before us
has lied to us and
thought us to lie
to the generation
after.

whether it’s the gods
or holidays
or what not.

the youth of the today
are autonomous.
they can not take
responsibility for
their actions nor do
they understand and
just go along
with the trends,
much like,
all the generations
before them
but we need a scapegoat
to cover up our own
farce implementations.

the truth of the matter is..
we’re all a little vacuous
in our own way
especially the ones with
an answer for everything.
living in an imperfect world
where there’s always room
for improvement
nothing for us
or against us
wrapped up in our
congratulatory
self-contradictory
and illogical theories
and as useless as
exploding appendix.

the lost generation
the interbellum generation
the silent generation
the baby boomers
generation x
the millennials

a strong admixture
of imbecility and
self-assurance
filled with belief
and unawareness
to a senseless world

like hate
like blame
like gossip
like jealousy
like being offended
like being impressive
like the punk rock dream
like hospital waiting rooms
like fundraisers and charity events
like your co-worker to the right and
the left of you
and their families
and their families before
them

our greatest creation
our strongest aide

to deconstruct

I walked the garden long in late evening
The sun was casting shadows on the rooftops
The garden sparkled from the raindrops after overnight rain
Everything feeling quite peaceful

I’m being wished
a “happy world poetry day”
and I just wish to
correct the calendar.
As Poetry day is your birthday,
it’s Valentines Day,
it’s the day you came into my life.
Darling,
I’ve been a writer my whole life,
but you,
you made me a poet.

You’re almost there
You’re almost pretty enough
Almost funny enough
Almost lovable enough
But
Not quite
Keep working
Keep selling your soul
Keep running till you can’t stand
And maybe
Just maybe
You’ll get there

Almost

He gripped the lever on his mechanism
and flipped through the pages of time.

Everything he saw happened in the span of seconds.
Time was relative when empires fell.

There were wars built of flame and desperation.
Civilizations rose from ashes. Sand covered statues
went undiscovered. And history seemed written only
partially known. The man he left it all behind,
for the sake of seeking knowledge of the gods. He
saw great crowds of people, starving in the streets.
He saw them fighting and loving, at the same time.
For there is no good where bad does not exist. The man
he left it all behind, in search of something better.
But time is neither good nor bad. It simply only is.

Perhaps he learned this lesson yet.
Perhaps he never did.
Perhaps he's still lost somewhere
and nowhere all at once.

I've lost myself completely

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

Brain, brain go away
Don't want to listen one more day
Already lonely and afraid
Feel insecure and full of shame

Brain, brain don't act this way
You're always angry; Filled with hate
You know we're joined; Can't separate
You're punching yourself in the face

Brain, brain what can I say
To make it so you see things straight
Don't know how much more I can take
Of constant warring and debate

Brain, brain it's getting late
This journey's not some endless race
Life's flying by and at this pace
Forget a win; Not gonna place

Brain, brain let's medicate
I'll feed you drugs and we'll sedate
The only way to mitigate
Discrepancies we generate

Brain, brain we sadly waste
This outcome feels like it was fate
But never was there a sealed date
Fulfilling what we self-create

Brain, brain so much we faced
Success so close could almost taste
Instead our tail we always chased
We'll die alone sad and disgraced

Lick my lips
Cradle my face
Gaze into my eyes
And tell me I'm safe

Like the touch of love,
My body flickers with excitement
as the rain flows.
Until everyone drop,
Drenches my skin.

It's like I've never felt rain,
Until today.
Rain like this,
doesn't fall
Every day.

I know I won't get to all
but ******, I'm gonna try
thumb up to every comment
up until the day I die

I can't react to every line and word
but ****** I can try
thumbs up to ever poet/poetess
maybe no one has, to cry

I'm just a singularity
but ****** all too ****
we, as a community
stand up, and hear the yell

I'm not you, and you're not me
but when you see thumbs down
chime in with words and thumbs
chase the trolls, outta HP town

i dread the day you learn
for the first time that
you can't just love all
the darkness in me away

and no matter how much
you care i will still toss
and turn at night and scars
might still appear on my skin

i dread the day you realize
that you can't cure me
and sometimes all you can do
is stand next to me and
hold my hand through fog
pouring out of my ears so black
and thick we can't even see
each other's faces

i dread the days i can't
get out of bed
the days you want to
take me out and all
i can manage is a prettified
shell of myself

i dread the day you learn
that sometimes no matter
how hard i try i still can't
pull myself together

the day you learn that
there isn't an answer
you can give that will
save me from my fears

you aren't the first person
who has tried to love the
darkness inside away
my family and friends
have given it their all
but someday you too will learn
that if love could
cure mental illness
the world would be
a much better place

Red is the rose
and the polish on my toes

Red is the kiss on my cheek
and my dress– truly chic

Red is also blood
and bodies in the mud

Red is red
Love and dead.

I am not white.
I'm smart.
Attractive.
Fit.
Yet I am invisible.

I am driftwood in
a vast ocean teeming with fish.

Paint me a picture
Of your skin
Does it bronze beneath the sun?
Or sizzle and blush
Like your cheeks
When you’re in love?
Is it soft to the touch
Like when your palms graze
The smooth surface of water?
Or rough around the edges
Like your favorite book
And its lovingly worn corners?
Does it melt in the heat
Like sweet syrupy treats
Dripping through your fingers?
Or does it welcome the winter
With wide open arms
As if greeting a lover?
Paint me a picture
Of your skin

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections