I wish I didn't exist  
All I ever do is cause trouble and distress
Everything bad that ever happens is because of me
So let me end it and show the world
That laiba is the worst person in the world
Goodbye and good luck

Our magnum opus
Love shared with you, God's best art
Heaven's lone Monet

I never believed in happy endings
Because they never really seemed to exist
Not until I met you
Not until you made me believe, and I couldn’t resist
 
Resist you and me. We were so impossible
Never did I know, I’d love you with all my heart
And you’d love me too, for who I am
But now that we do, I can delightedly say that you are my life and not just a part.

For once I’m content
My soul knows no trouble
Don’t have to pretend
No more of the struggle  

Through all the observed, absorbed and accepted
Through all the untold, hurtful, deceptive
With each soul that I met
And through every heartbreak
Was built my true self

And so peace descended into my soul
And so I learnt acceptance is above all
Tormented spirit was set to be free
I’m celebrating the birth of new me.

the day a poet  
falls in love with you
is the day
you know you will live
forever
not in life
but in the love
that your poet
could never seem to
grant
themselves
but will
give you
all of

THOU SHALT NOT COVID
THY NEIGHBOURS WIFE.


p.s.

Wear a mask.

I.

This, a final offering,
before the clipping of wings.
A love like blood,
oh anathema.
A grey declined to black,
oh herem.

It means salvation
knelt with darkness.


II.

So it be!
So it be!
So it be!

Ring the bell,
close the book,
blow out the candle.

Douse the sacred sun
and find belief caught in fishermen's nets.


III.

In silence of angels,
climbing broken ladders,
no ascent, no longer.

Salvation has
knelt with darkness.

If the seasons are made to change,
then my love is made to stay through it all.

From the saddest part of my heart,
I try to re-rewrite the saddest words.
But does it makes your soul quiver?
Does it sting on your neutral spine?
Like the way, I bleed through the quill.

If it can do none,
After I write like tears in the night.
Then maybe I am just a writer in vain.
And it's not worth it to call it,
The saddest of all the poems.

Blow holes in convention
make art that disturbs the status quo

Men make the world,
Man create society
Women, mould the men.

But you control him
I watch and I stare and you continue
No matter how hard I tried
You always find a way to hurt the people I love and cherish the most
You preyed on the vulnerable

You did say he was  gullible  
And so you dragged him around like a living puppet
You could feed him to lions
and he wouldn’t mind

do not cross the ocean,
never sail the seven seas
if you want to never
want to see lands again like these

if you do decide to go
to step onto a boat
don't say i didn't warn you
that you'll always be afloat

don't say i didn't warn you,
don't say i didn't care
if you do become a pirate
it's not my fault, i swear.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she tells me it is my destiny,
and it is all in the email she sent me.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she possesses many Riches,
and she has promised me all of them.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
from her wretched uncle,
who will steal her wealth and lock her away.

I would save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
but she only needs my Government ID,
Bank Account and Social Security.

It started with an RD
Reveal device
Then it went to a P
Pacemaker
But it keeps you alive
My dear
To lose you
Is my only fear
I need you another year
More I do implore
So keep that heart beating
And stay with me for sure!

Somedays, I’ll be dancing in my living room to The Cure,
and suddenly, my chest will collapse in on itself, a demolition of all the memories of  the year I shared with you.  I was the city putting out the notice, this old building with a weak foundation needed to come down.
And I cry.
And suddenly , I fee stupid, I’m crying alone with a glass of wine while Just Like Heaven is playing. It wasn’t even our song.
It’s time to rebuild.
The city is under development,
Alexa, replay Just Like Heaven by The Cure.

These clouds of Italy are grown on vines,
Infidels of skies, fruit bearers of wine-veined
Marble, fertile in spite of its own lifeless tableau,
Here thrives the succulent garden of the alone,
Where turns aside the burnt nape of the plowman,
Voyager of the cool midnight seas of the mind,
Up to this arable vine of sighs from outworn gods,
And hears his heart once more give up its throne.

and we
won't just
  survive
    but we'll
      thrive till
        we're five
           and make
              peace with
                 our hearts
                     till we're
                         feeling
                              alive
                                   and my
                                        puppy-
                                               eyed
                                                     lover
                                                            will talk
                                                                   to the
                                                                          sky and
                                                                               we'll drift
                                                                                      through the
                                                                                              night till
                                                                                                      we're free

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

I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.

Why I try so hard,
when it never works out.
It always catches me off guard,
when it never works out.
I just cant disregard,
when it never works out.
I get so frail and scared,
when it never works out.
Throw me in a graveyard,
when it never works out.
Burned and charred,
when it never works out.

So whats the point in trying....

Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived

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.

𝗌𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖾,
𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗍
𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗐,
𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌
𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒;𝖻𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗒
𝖻𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒
𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗇𝗍;
𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝗅𝖾𝖾
𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌

Why does it always feel like
no one's listening
when I talk?

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 too *******.
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.

Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.

I hate the good days
I have no reason to feel
As bad as I do