Perfection is a characteristic
That is force fed to us
A characteristic we must
Die trying to achieve
But why?

No human before me
Has been perfect
Why do they expect
It to start from me?

I used to wish I had a reason to feel so sad.
Maybe a death in the family or a traumatic injury, morbid as it sounds.
A reason to feel scared, and lost, and all at once a child begging for someone else to takeover for a while.
Crying in the bath is such a cliche but when you're underwater no one can ask what's wrong and be disappointed by the answer.
I don’t have a good enough reason to be sad, I’m only 23 and have an entire life to live but I feel like this is gonna be it, and every week is another long week and every day drags like it will never end.
I feel like I should talk to someone but I’m not sad enough, or I’m not rich enough, or I’m not desperate enough.
People say life finds a way and that it will all sort itself out, but right now in this bath it’s just me and my fears so life can wait a while.

come back,
that's all i request

why'd you
have to go


i hate being in love
with someone i
can't have

Icarus cradled himself as the
Surface roared closer and closer,
Screaming like a siren in his ear

For a brief moment he looked and saw
That tower which had kept him and all
That surrounded it. It used to be ugly
But now with death approaching, all that was
ordinary became too beautiful to bare.

We be given to you
a will in ancient way
slept to the memory of open mind
in the rush and temper of tongue and fire
we dwell in the heat of a white wolves cry
as lamb be's birth brazen and naked on the spit of life

gentle eyes pierce the sky within the fold of skin
collected to sight on the razor sharp ray of sun
coloured to the souls velvet underground
brittle to the bones burn
no turning away in the no return

My grandpa
             Words he gave
                            To me once upon a full moon
“Son” he said
            “When you go into this life”
“Remember, that love is a language “
             “So find, my son, find someone”
                     “Who speaks your language “
      “So you don’t have to translate your soul”
                                   Hmmm.

I only want two things in this world,
You and your love.
30/9/2020

I want
to be the one your pen
and paper talk about

I learned
to plant the seeds
of happiness.
There are flowers
blooming
where the scars
used to be.

R.M.

If a man needs you to believe a lie,
He will often say, "trust me."

If a man needs you to believe the truth,
He will speak it.

sometimes I forget,
what I used to do to myself.

I remember the feelings,
but not the tears.
the intentions,
but not the actions.

I told a friend
and waited ten minutes for a reply,
breathing in
and out.

in.
out.

worried that I hurt more people
than just me.

in.
out.

resist, overcome, forget.
That's what you're supposed to do

right?

Sit with me awhile;
Talk to me.
Tell me everything you would have done
If I was still alive

Sit with me awhile;
Cry with me.
There’s no shame in expressing your emotions
If you’re feeling sad.

Sit with me awhile;
Listen to me.
For even though I’m lying here, silent, remember
What I would have said.

Sit with me awhile;
Just sit with me.
Sometimes you need no words, or tears, or anything
Except my company.

The bright light enters into my den
I awake once again
rose petals on the bush push and the flower extends
outside my window and then
the sun begins to ask where have you been my old friend?

Contrite from the night you’ve been a godsend
sans presence problems have stemmed
shadows revel, ambush, and shush odds and ends
applied innuendo with denial from sin
someone that grins from the joy of descend

Life is no laughing matter

It has to be done.

sometimes self care is
polysporin and bandages
tending to the wounds
of your own self destruction

I can't seem to finish a poem these days
They are all about you.
Thinking about the message that says

"I
Love
You".

Love. Words. Love.
All we have is words, all we ever had was words, though all we ever have is love.
Was thinking of saying that I loved you calling me golden, but the fact is you never called me at all.
And yet

"I
Love
You".

The idea.
What could have been, what we could have been. What we were. What we are.?

I
Love
You.

Light devoid, no silver-hued moon,

Shadows claim my soul too soon.

With silence strong, I’m left alone,

With aching bones and heart forlorn.

The cold seeps in, an evil embrace,

My only warmth: his face.

His face.

he has a heart of ocean
where no tide can ruin him
he has a soul of colours,which embrace every emotion beautifully
he has the guts to be who he is
he is the lover , a secret keeper
an untold truth , a mystery of mojo
and a pop up to my happiness
he is my resume of life
a pause for my every misery
he was mine , he is mine
and will be mine forever

you are a stranger
and i am gloomy moonlight
we have met prior

You're not lost, just because you didn't  trust today
I see you here, yet your thoughts are drifting away ...
You rake the leaves, with your bare hands,
You try to see, where your future stands.

You're not lost,  just because you need a break,
I see you smile, while trying to hide your heartache
You collect the dirt, under your fingernails,
As you walk barefoot and cover your trails.

I still see you, underneath the falling leaves,
I hear your voice say "thank you"  and "please"
I see your true smile, glowing in your eyes,
You're the only reason, my soul survives.

I attend college in an apocalypse
I'm planning for a future that doesn't exist
Paying these grandiose establishments
So they can give me a piece of paper
A modern day participation award

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry

I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

sad poems make me cry
that's why i compose
silly poems that won't try
make you blow your nose

and no tears will be shed
though you might need tissues
laughing while you wet your bed
from weak bladder issues

which is why i always write
and funny poems share
no one wants to cry all night
just a change of underwear