Don't
it's that simple.

Really, curiously, and honestly.  

You think that you want to do so.

Boy oh boy!
Girl oh girl!

You both assumed with
only a smile that they longed for more.

Their genuine smile
and hearty laugh
was more than a stranger would
ever offer to a nobody.

But to me
everyone is a somebody
cheesy as cheese fries
without the fries.

That's what make my day
meeting and greeting--
sadly I've assumed a false identity,
if only they would let it go.

And take the chance
to make an honest friend.

The moon still watches over us
but it doesn’t glow like it used to
It basked you in twilight
reflecting every smile,
every gaze, every hair
and every inch of skin
like a Monet painting
Before my eyes.
But now,
my prized possession,
is missing.
Hung up in
someone else’s museum,
across the world it seems.
Now I cannot paint
without my inspiration,
my muse.
And I can’t bring my fingers
away from your beauty,
trapped behind
twilight glass.

My eyes are not sunlit windows to my own self, rather dimmed and tinted blockades to never give you a full picture. They are not a colourful array of flowers, they are dull and wilting weeds.

My lungs cannot breathe in and smell the roses because they are laced with tar, and not enough oxygen from shallow breathing. They are restricted from fulfilling out their purpose so I can feel 'okay.'

My ears will not listen to the buzzing of bees and the gentle wind- they will, however, listen to the screams between them and confuse help with hate.

My tongue does not taste of honeysuckle and mint, but rather ash and dried blood from tasting my existence. It formulates words laced with too much sleep and too little self care.

My fingertips do not touch as if I am handling the daintiest of flower petals, instead they trace a gravestone between my ribs with a purpose. They tear at my own skin and hair, or at least try to.

Do not devalue my battleground of a body by comparing it to a garden

Fragile keep silent as we all can see
Truth there are no words to be spoken of
And the able speak loud and will strive to be
They continue on and still yearn to love

Then the silent reap not of one
More tear
Only to give in on their dark set hour
While the able cling to gray skies of fear
Upon which they shed another tearful shower

Then the silent no longer walk this land
Truth they have gone to a far away place
While the able see upon the fear and stand
With a heartfelt tear falling down their face

So it becomes that all shall understand
Fragile are gone and the strong forever stand

The soul mindless alone,
The whole yet to be filled.

Find one to another and breathe,
See,
Believe.

The soul mindless at home finds itself in the beating minds of the tormented,
Tormented.
Abashed to its own state of mind.

Signed the treaty to service of the lost.
Little do they know.


The chip, chipping away at the stone heart constructed nigh,
The stone heart slipping away from its own grasp.


Broken hearts cannot heal another,
Stolen minds speak no reason.


Find unto yourself reason for pride,
Your own heart must stand fast.

So that,
One day,
You may pave peace for another to stride,
And find their way.

~Robert van Lingen