You talk
I listen
I talk
You don’t

You boss me around
I listen
I boss you around
You don’t

You tell me you hate me
I listen
I tell you I love you
You don’t

You break up with me
I listen
I want to get back with you
You don’t

You beat me
I listen
I yell at you
You don’t

You hurt me
I take it
I hurt you
You don’t

You see, because you’re a male it doesn’t give you the right to always hurt me and think you don’t have to do anything.
Female’s are 10 times smarter
10 times better
And 10 times nicer
Than most males.
Just because we’re females doesn’t mean we can’t do a mans job. Just because you’re males doesn’t mean you can’t do a females job.
Try being a female and we’ll try being a male for a day

there are two types of sadness

there’s the kind of sadness
we ignore and
try to get rid of it
by finding new things to do
or we find someone to talk to
by blatantly avoiding any type of conversation
about feeling sad
about having any feelings at all
and then there’s that kind of sadness
that takes over
and it consumes any activity we do
we know it’s there
and there’s no possible way to avoid it
so we feed it exactly what it wants
it craves the sad music
it craves the isolation
it craves the anxiousness
and the sadness comes storming in
it has no manners
here we are calling sadness, an “it”
when all it is
is a feeling
that most people
call home

The wind, she howls
Cold air bites
The tips of fingers
Noses and ears

A clear sky
Is a fickle friend
Allowing warmth of sunshine
And bitter cold

Tiny hairs
Within my nose
Freeze with every breath
I am alive

Eyelashes, too
Frozen in time
From the tears
The wind has caused

The air, dry
Almost thirsty
Pulls moisture
From my skin

Frigid temps
Extreme conditions
Our world goes on
Unapologetically

He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come