It's a little late for
A smile
It's a little late for
A mile

You promised
Or
Maybe I did
That the sun
Would always shine
In
Both of our eyes

You're a tad quick
With your pick
You're a bit knicked
With your tick

But I love you
Just the same
There's no reason
I wouldn't have came

Walk toward a dead poet
Mirror
Expose of a soulless
Exhibitionist

Praying
One day

They'll have a soul

They believe

Is not worth

Remembering.

I think
Therefore I am
I want to be greatest
Of all time
Actually I'd settle for
Being the greatest me
I can possibly be
So I guess no regrets
Pretty much impossible
To regress
God I only pray
For success

The way the sun bounced off my hair was a prayer
The subtle glimmer off my skin was not sin
The ebony cast of my eye was no lie
The loving warmth of my cheek was simply meek
For he spoke it and it came to be.

been living in a rehab
fifth day
telling myself: don't relapse


STAY

Mujhko itna sudhar k kya karoge. -2
Main !!!! Khud Main na raha to fir mera kya karoge.
Dhund Lo na koi aur jaisa tumhe pasand hai.
Mujhpe itna mehnat kyun karoge.

They wake up earlier
Just to see nothing's better
All words are going to disappear
You got it, sir?

to love;
is to feel the tenderness, the vulnerability, the joy, the discomfort, the calmness, the concern, the connection, the insecurity, the desire, the power, the confidence, the pleasure, the presence.
to love is to let yourself feel. deeply.

to love;
is simply to be open in love.

this time of year
so they don't disappear
i use my vacation days

i sit in a haze
thinking of ways
to justify deep hibernation

or at least a migration
to a southern location
until the warm weather's return

but for now I must burn
the hours I earn
because I must use them
or lose them

i want to be independent
but i become enticed in the feeling of having others build me up to make a 'better me'
but people are unreliable
they love you till they see all your vulnerabilities and your flaws
then they blast it for the world to see
and they wonder why i no longer make the effort to talk
i distance myself
i create a world where i need to be independent
because no one can be trusted

I sold my soul
to the promise of you
and got the Devil
in return

A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover


It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.

In the end
It's all the same
Differences drive me away
And all the guile smiles thrown in my face
Don't erase space between.

De beste kerst is
kerstmis met rode wijn
en gerst en nat
en koud en sneeuw van goud dat,
dartelend, de lucht kartelend,
neer dwarrelt.

De beste kerst heeft koord gevroren,
zilver glinsterballen om de oren
van de takken van de boom.
Wat ben jij groot geworden,
moeder, neef en nicht en oom,
ze drinken koffie na het eten,
doen *** best niet te vergeten
dat ze nog moeten rijden,
wetende dat we op de simpelweg
elkaar met gezelligschap kunnen verblijden.

De beste kerst is draagzaam over lange afstand,
ondanks de periodes zonder elkaar.
De beste kerst is nu, een beetje al vandaag
en een beetje uitkijken naar volgend jaar.

De beste kerst is schappelijk, aannemelijk tevredenheid,
de beste kerst is profiteren van het feit
dat mensen al jaren godheden vereren,
zonder gevoelens te bezeren.

De beste kerst is middelmaat, onwetendheid.
Want zij zijn zalig, heilig, zacht getroffen,
daar zij tevreden zijn met een trui of nieuwe sloffen.

Zonder beter moeten, hebben, zijn,
je wint maar niemand vindt dat fijn.
Het waar geluk zit dan vanbinnen,
dus laat het avondmaal beginnen.

feeling anxious
feeling used
feeling broken
feeling bruised

who knew that taking so many sleeping pills
would leave you wide-awake instead

Wala ba akong karapatan mapagod?
Rinig na rinig ko ang hiyaw ng aking kaluluwa
HIGA KA, HIGA KA, HIGA
PIKIT KA, PIKIT KA, PIKIT
IDLIP KA MUNA, KAIBIGAN
Gustong-gusto ko, pero hindi pwede

Dinadaan ko na lang sa tula ang kapaguran ko
Dinadaan ko na lang sa tula ang sakit
Dinadaan na lang sa biro at libog
Sa halakhak at ngiti
Sa mga sigawan at kwentuhan
Sa kalungkutan at panloloko sa sarili
Ito'y ang aking araw-araw

HIGA KA, HIGA KA, HIGA
PIKIT KA, PIKIT KA, PIKIT
IDLIP KA MUNA, KAIBIGAN
Kay sarap isipin
Kay sakit marinig
Pero sana'y makahiga, pikit, at idlip rin

At kahit minsan sana'y
Maramdaman ko ulit
Ang tunay na kapayapaan

She takes the stand
With the voice of millions on her back
And speaks the fact that we all know,
far too well to be true -                  
                                           Me too.

She is heard but not believed,
She is heard with faith deceived .

When will it be enough -
Is one in six not enough ?
Is one sister, one friend
still - not enough?

one colleague, one mother, one wife, one lover -
one teacher, one doctor, one preacher, one author -
one husband, one son, one brother.
Which one will it take, to stop
the non-consensual clock
and make us realise that -

Time. Is. Up.

I'm jealous of the rain
It gets close to you
Closer than I ever will
It touches your skin
It combs your hair
It comes when you're sad
It stays when you're happy
I love you but you don't love me
So I say
I'm jealous of the rain

as a kid
i built my wall with lego's
then later on
i finished it with stones

i give so much
of my love to the world
that there isn't quite
enough left
for myself.

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.

Because the earth’s round
Doesn’t mean it’s  having a ball.

Because waves crash
Doesn’t mean that they aren’t in control.

Because the sea is deep
Doesn’t mean that it’s thoughtful

Because land meets the sea
Doesn’t mean that they agree

Because you float my boat
Doesn’t make me the captain.

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.

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

you made me think not being called beautiful by someone who’s supposed to think i am was normal it wasn’t normal