Not all depressed cut,
Not all sad shed tears,
Not all strong fight,
Not all monsters roar,
Not all young are innocent.
Some just work harder to maintain a mask.
We are here,
And you have reason to fear,
We are the best liars,
We can manipulate the greatest con artist without batting a single eyelash.
Watch out we are coming.

This sickness?

Being yelled at for throwing tantrums
That were really panic attacks

Beating yourself, hurting yourself
Because you made a mistake

Being confused that no one had hurt you
But you were always in pain

Being told to just calm down
And to stop overreacting

Being unsure if you want to be better
Because maybe it’s just your personality

Not trusting yourself anymore
Because there’s medication in your head

Wanting to feel numb
Because inside everything hurts

Wanting to get high
Because inside you feel numb

Always wondering if you’re okay
And knowing the answer is probably “no”

So if you want to know
What it is that ails me
This is it
This is what I’m fighting

her heart has been broken
so many times she wonders
if it's beyond repair.

the walls she once loathed
now surround her heart,
unapproachable by man.

each night she lies
awake wondering if
anyone hears her cries.

but He hears her
and tells her heart to be still
for He will dry her tears,
take her and restore
her broken heart.
for she is His bride.

To **** for the impossible
Is to grant your own demise
A love that isn't returned
A future only seen in your own eyes
In another reality, your souls are intertwined
Just in this one, such connection you won't find
Peace of mind is a foreign concept
Undefined feelings are realised
Defined feelings are misaligned
& by staying, it's my fate I've signed

wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
.

Words form and the subconscious heard
Origin known

You're more beautiful
And more outstanding and bright
Than you'll ever know.

It can't rain all the time
Says the sun as it rests
Nestled above the pulsing clouds
While wave by wave of shining silver
Give a cool respite to the world below

a (the) woman’s body (pretty pleasing)

is my reciprocal

her waist is my happy place

her neck is my doorway

the rest is
best when she is mirror accessorizing,
preening, **** upon first rising,
tallying the gains and the losses

unaware of my watching,
never satisfied she, tho she is 98% unadmitting contented,
as she shifts her weight,
from knee to knee extended alternating
with slow delicacy

for the pleasure is trebled
for her imagine image reverberates
throughout the house

for ever mirror is pre-positioned
accidentally angled just so

she doesn’t know and asks why I’m grinning,
answer is
no confessionary, no telling I’m sinning,

eyes scheming-dreaming of her reciprocity

she smiles and says  
“good morning bad boy”

maybe she does know
but you won’t tell her,
we, you and me,
are pretty pleasing

she is 1/me
she is won over me

With hasty fervor was I summoned to a home
It was thought that a young girl did roam
Away she went on her feet
Or did someone take her in a van?

The children in the street they did report
That the girl was dragged away by a man of a sort
I checked the home even under the beds
Under the covers where kids hide;
the closets too

My counterpart and I got the whole story
But our guts told us something wasn’t right
In the kitchen we quickly discussed
The rapidly changing story of the kids outside

There was something wrong
Something not right, the feeling was palpable
We double checked all places for a sleeping child
Then glanced through the back window with fright

A pool.  We became overcome with dread
The officers and mother swore they checked the pool
They said that they were sure she wasn’t in the deep
But trust nothing and look for yourself is a saying to live and work by

Chuy and I stood at the pool
The water was not nearly clear enough
For us to rule out the unthinkable
We both peered from side to side

I saw a dark spot that seemed to be a drain
At the deep end of the pool did I bend
And stared ever intently at the drain
The drain started to move, ever so slightly, with the waves

Chuy confirmed what I thought I saw
A sick pall did upon us fall
I grabbed the long net
And commenced a long haul

I felt the spot heavy on the net
While officers searched for a kidnapper
Which was accorded by the kids
The mother thought we were wasting time

As I pushed the heavy
To the shallow end of the pool
I saw her four-year-old body
“****,” I thought, bring the lieutenant

We drew straws to jump in
To fetch the poor child
To return her to her mother
I lifted her out and wrinkled she was

Too late to revive, too dead
Now how to tell the mother
So we braced her for her fall
She saw her baby stiff and wrapped

A toy floated by
As mom she hurtfully cried
We brought the EMT’s
They saw she was too far gone

Called off the troops
Squeezed the water from my pants
The officers and mother could not understand
How they missed the little tot

Our feeling, unfortunately correct
A mother’s life wrecked
It’s tough to pull a child from the water
And a toy in the pool floated innocently by

it’s not a normal feeling
not a temporary feeling
you’re sick, and you know it

I say I hate you.
Little do you know,
I'm scared to say I love you.

I wasn't born
With this hole in my heart
But it developed gradually
When pain drilled my chest to cling it's art.
Oh! I was smiling radiating the usual rainbow colours!
But just then, I was grayed and torn
Just like  withered flowers!
The pain! Yes the pain
Is unbearable
My tears all are in vain
They are just emotional fool , being unstoppable!
I am fed up of emotional breakdown
My soul became mournful, being lost in the ghost town!
I know, sorrows are part of life
But how can I frequently bear the pain that cut deeper than the knife!
I try my best to just forget and move on
But what shall I do when I am trapped in the useless emotion?

l̸̨̨̟̤̥̱͆̇͋́̀̀͘͜ȩ̸̧̮̳̣̣̾͊̀͝s̵͕̈́́ş̵̢̠͓̩̈́͜ ̴̛͙̙̤̿̉w̸̰͕̜͔̼͑̆̑͘ö̸̧̟̗͚̘̠́̾r̷̺̮͉͐̓̈́̓̋̿̆͛͝d̷͔̅̏̆̊̚̕s̶̠̺͒́͒̌͊̋̐̂ͅͅ­̨͔͔̟̯̤,̵̛̼̹̖̙̰̍̍͒ͅ ̴͚͕͔͎̤̜͋
̴͓͋́͑̅͒̊m̵̭̈́̋́͊̄͘o̸̮̫͇͉̍͛̇̅͂͒̑̕r̵̳̹͚̺͚̂̆͝ë̶͇̗̺̬͍̖́́ͅ ̵̘̙̣͉̏̇̂̏͐͑͑ͅs̵̲͔͛͋̈́̾̉̊̏͛̓͆k̴̯̳̞̪͕͂̆̌̈́͘͝͠ͅì̸̧̢͈͖̖̠͉̖̫̐͗̃̏̿͑ͅn̴̘͋­͍̤̳͓̙̲͍͕,̷̲͈͆̈̈́̂̑̓ ̸̭̩̭̲͐̆͊̓̑͌͜
̸̡͍̬̺̬̜̙́̈́̈́͝m̸̛̥̳͛̃͝o̶͓̔̏͗͋̄͌̓͝r̸̯͉̤̣̠̗͚̜̬͂͜e̶̛̓̐̄͊̌­͇̩̯͔͓͕̹̝̼̃̈́ ̷͕̾s̴̨̮̰̠̦̞̖̬̤̪̅̏̿̾į̶͚͓̈̎̋̄̀͂̓̇͝l̸̡̹̯͑̓̐͊̈́͆́͌̚͝e̵͖̰͑̎̿͒̒͠͝n̸̛̑̋̚­̨̫̹͍́͝c̵̛̳̤̻̞̠̲͎̖̯̓̎͌͝ē̶͇̟̦͖,̸̧̘̦͔͔͚̙̼̳̤̿͂͘͘ ̶̻̘̼̞͗́̍͋͠͝͠
̵̙̜̀m̸̝͒͒͐́̔̉̎́͌ͅo̸͕̙͕̭̮̟̱̠̒̆͌͗͗͆̕̕r̷̹͎̈ẻ̶͇̜̮̦͒͌̊̾ ̶̖͍̪̩̪̥̺̾̏̐̿̈s̷̡̼̲̈́ͅͅi̷̗̇̃̀͌̓̉̃͝n̶͕̐̓͆́̄.̶̧̖͈̮̲̲̺̜̦̈̄͐̎̔̆͠͝ͅ