...and I stare into the sunset
Hoping that I'll forget
The smile that I once drew on your face
As perfect as it could get.

...and i look at the sea
And see my reflection
And imagine yours beside it
Such an image of perfection

...and I cry day and night
With one simple need
For you to be on my side
Oh what a bless indeed

...and I take a deep breath
And keep ignoring the pain
For before every rainbow
There must first be rain

...and I know we can't be
But it's my job to try
So I'm actually gonna do something
Instead of crying "...and I"

when my lips are spoiling your skin
don't think i'm detached.
my chest would hammer
driving the nails even deeper
(is that what the hollow in heart is?)
as my breath crawls onto your collarbone
and my fingers draw figures onto your *******
my hair would brush across your chin
my hair would coil around your fingers
and my life would coil around your bones

An arc of a slit
Beautiful to the sight.
Forever brightly lit
Illuminating the night.

What is a crescent
If not a piece of your grin?
What is it if not a present
That everyone gets to win?

Cherish that Crescent of red
And watch me and learn
How I change it instead
How, to a full moon, it would turn

At this point, I'm surprised I manage to wake up,
when every night is plagued with dreams of you,
caressing my fragile body, and then plunging into it like it doesn't mean two ***** to you.
Every night it's the same dream, and I wake up smelling of sweat,
but it's not the same as yours, an aroma that haunts me even in my sleep.
See, when a man like me desires,
he desires with more than just his heart and mind.
He desires with his nose, his lips, his hands and his tongue,
his eyes, his ears, and with the tips of his toes.
Not unlike the fantastic houses we used to build between periods.
Not unlike the make-believe we used to play during recess.
So, my friend, let's make-believe one last time:
I'll pretend to be a woman,
and you'll pretend to be in love,
and I'll finally find myself in your warm embrace.

I thought about it once
and then once again
we can't just just sit back
and wait for the rain

I can't sit back here;
this I have sworn
someone must weep
to those no one would mourn

My country is wounded
I can't just step aside
there's nothing I can do
but dying inside...

Being afraid of height
is being afraid to fall.
To die and leave life;
not to return at all.

Being afraid of dark
is really fear of what's within.
Monsters, they say lie,
that **** the greatest of men.

Being afraid of spiders
is afraid of being bit
put that away,
they're not scary a bit.

Being afraid of love
is not knowing what to do:
He wants to tell you how he feels
but he's afraid of losing you.

Fear, in reality,
is not wanting to get hurt
Fear's the one subject
where everyone's an expert.

I am tired of being told what I should and what I shan't.
And I know this platform isn't for ranting and yet here I'll rant.
I am sick of being empty, aimless, vague and out of place.
I am sick of wasting all your air, of taking all your space.
And my claws, I use to tear my skin, so that I could be set free,
And my screams I let out muffled and hushed to spare you my agony.
And my body feels imprisoning, my breath is getting faint
And my eyes are melting, face is welting, dying from the paint
And the bathroom doors complaining from the numb and from the tear
And my psyche getting tired of all the sorrow and the fear.
And the voice inside my head, always saying I'm not enough
And the lies I tell myself like "you can make it, you are tough."
And the people I looked up, lived with, shared with my days
And the lies they taugh me, unconditional love, they said, stays.
And the God whom I once worshiped and for whom I often cried
And the deaf, the blind, the disabled, to whom he's closely tied.
And the fact that I am beyond your repair, beyond all that can be done
And the way I feel at the start of each day and with every falling sun.
And the creature biting on my heart at every given chance
And the demons sitting in my head, not letting me advance.
And the love I always had, different faces every while
And the feelings that I gave away and never even got a smile.
This is not a ranting place, and yet here I wrote.
Is this a good place though to write one's suicide note?

They'll buzz like bees 'round your heart
Telling the reapers when they'll start
Lie to you and themselves as well
And then you're left alone
Clean your head, once or twice
Shave a head that's full of lice
Trust a corpse with your soul
And then you're left alone
Smile to all and say it's fun
Play with people, smirk and run
Tell yourself that you have friends
And then you're all alone
All is gone, peers and wealth
And soon enough so will your health
Don't live in the lie that someone cares
Because you're all alone
Whatever they say, people hide
We accept the lie that they're on our side
But you shall learn when time will come
That you've always been alone

I can't take it any more
your scent - so pleasant
and where ever I go
I wish you were present

What shall I do
to get you out of my mind?
such a hard question
which's answer I could never find

Despite my blind love
I know it could never be
we could never be together
just you and me

and you clearly know why
it's forbidden, they say
but I never see how
we stand in their way

Then there's you who's the problem
these are feeling you just knew
and I know it's weird
and even bizarre and kind of new

but you must know
that anything I'd do
to get your lips on mine
to sleep in the same bed as you

My name is Jonathan.
I'm 9 years old.
I'll tell you a story
that's never been told.

I lived in Lebanon,
and so did you.
Till the year 14
and a thousand times 2.

We lived aside,
your building next to ours.
We were happy, what a bliss!
But there are thorns on all the flowers.

---------------------------------------

I knew not what happened next,
but I felt heat strike my face.
Who would believe that the curse we're living,
was once upon a time a grace?

The explosion happened too fast,
but I had time to take a last breath.
And when you took yours too,
we crawled our way to death.

So we left dear life,
which wasn't always so dear.
But even in heaven,
the cries of children, I could hear.

And I met you,
my dear friend Hussien.
But know that Muslims and Christians
are both being slain.

Just wait till they realize
their killers care not
for religion or for race,
for all was to get shot.

They're both targets,
and enemies all in one.
And our country has become
a battle that'll remain unwon.

Maybe one day they'll wake up
and learn that religion does not
give only them the rights to live
and the others the rights to rot.

Maybe one day they'll learn
that we are all but one.
So why not hold each other's hands
and to the new day welcome the sun?

My name is Jonathan.
I'm 9 years old.
The terrorist, government, and citizens;
the responsibility the do hold.

They ruined what used to be our heaven
and we would no simply obey,
even though most of us
in this heaven are here to stay.

My name is Jonathan.
I'm 9 years old.
And I **** on people
whose country they sold.

I hear the drops of water
Shaking what once stood
I listen to the thunderstorms
That turn metal into wood

I see and sense the lightening
Flicker before me at night
And it's not even winter
And it's not even right

You might say it's weird
But my sky's always gray
And from the time you've left me alone
My winter starts in May

The types of people
vary as they do.
And here I will count
the types of people for you.

Type 1:
They pull you close
and say it's okay
and you would just nod
so they could go away.
They pretend they understand
and that you're like their soul.
They try to help
but in your heart, they leave a hole.

Type 2:
They say they don't care
and just leave you to rot.
They say that you always think
they're something that they're not.
You think you're lovebirds
They think you're less
You always expect the best from them
which leaves you in a total mess.

Type 3:
They're there when they need you
but not the other way around.
When the sky starts turning gray
you won't be hearing a sound.
Do what they want,
then leave them be.
That's what they're asking
from you and from me.

Type 4:
They give flowers and roses
and say they'd give you their life.
They smile to your face,
and to your back, they hold a knife.
They talk sweet all the time.
At least when you look.
But when you turn they wouldn't think twice
about hanging your head on a hook.

Type 5:
They like to see the pain.
It gives them joy.
They like to remind you
of how you're a little boy.
They hate you openly,
which is better than type 4,
but only if you could take the curses
and the hurt anymore.

Type 6:
They're the closest to your heart
and the best you'll ever find.
They understand your soul
just like they understand your mind.
They care about you,
but they're so very rare.
They're the type of people
you could never spare.

So check on yourself
and see where you belong,
for sometimes with less than a word,
everything could go wrong.

My body wants your heat
And my heart wants your voice
You just sweep me off my feet
You're the reason for my rejoice
And I just hope you'll know
How that I'll burst
How much I thirst
To the days when I'm with you

I want the warmness I feel
When you breathe on my skin
That makes me doubt what's real
And weakens the greatest of men
I want to feel your lips
And send my hands through your hair
And in your eyes, I want to stare
And feel the skin around your hips

I want to be your guy
I'll even help you when you're sick
Our love castle will reach the sky
Our feelings will be each brick
And if the time ends
I'd beg you for a kiss
For something to miss
Since your heart, you won't lend

Happy, happy love
Just isn't your thing
You like to keep it tough
And the troubles, you like to bring
And thats how it happens above
Some place in heaven, this is possible
While here on earth, it's impossible
It's just another perfectly impossible love.

I say my mantras every morning:
“You’re worthless, ugly, and undesired.”
Can’t risk forgetting, now can we?

When I wash my face, it’s more out of habit than out of hygiene.
Some days I don’t feel like washing my face, but I do it anyways.
Maybe it’s the thought of changing something that I’ve been doing for so long that’s making me anxious.
Maybe that’s the same as how I view life:
Just a habit that I’m too anxious to break.

Brushing my teeth is less of a habit and more of a favor
You know, to everyone around me that day
They already have reason enough to avoid me
And the remainder of a long-broken train
One whose windows were shattered and metals bent
I am the debris of a boy
But I fail to remember when I was anything else.

The taxi ride to college consists of the longest and shortest 45 minutes of my life.
On one hand, I want to get there on time
My anxiety intensifies as I think of all the material I’m not understanding
I start breathing heavily as I imagine the workload I have to cover.
Then I think of myself, in class, clueless about what she’s saying,
Not even capable of physically concentrating. Not physically capable of concentrating.
My heart starts cooperating in the ingenious scheme to defeat me
A scheme put about by none other than my own self.
I think about the scholarship and what I could lose if I don’t study
Then I think about not being able to study
Not because I’m dumb
But because I can’t.
I think about all my other friends, totally capable of doing the thing I struggle every day to do,
Slightly envying them for having a reason to wake up every morning.
Then I think of my parents and everything they’ve done to me,
The amount of money they’re paying to put me here
And my mind drifts off to what they’ll think when they find out I’m not straight
The disappointment in their eyes
The anger
Huh, maybe even some fear, if I got extra lucky.
And at that moment I’d have repaid them well for all the work they’ve done.
So the ride suddenly become minutes in length,
As I find myself there
But not quite.

I lay down in bed, most probably my head hurting.
I try to sleep but I can’t.
It’s not physical, I just don’t want to miss out on anything happening.
What if this person talks trash about me? What if he sarcastically talks good (because you can’t talk good about me without a sarcastic undertone).
What if my friends are talking? I do not want to feel left out more than I already am.
My mind drifts to what would happen when I die.
I think about my grandparents, my family, my friends,
I think about rotting in the middle of the earth.
Suddenly, the darkness of the room becomes the darkness of the house, the floor, the building, the block,
And the darkness of the room becomes the darkness of the world,
And I feel like I’m slowly being ****** in.

I’m still alive. I take one last breath and the decision to sleep. I fast-forward my night with up to 6 hours of terrible slumber, wake up,
And repeat.

I’m huddled up in the side of a bathroom stall
My friends are outside, breathing, leaving,
And I’m rocking like a lunatic.
I’m rocking like I belong in a psych ward, like my mind is definitely not okay
It is not okay.
In my pocket there is a pack of Advils
They rattle as a rock, they shake, their sound breaking the silence around
And the rattle
It feels like my head is filled with sand
It’s weight is too heavy on my shoulders
My stomach is clenching too intensely
My breath is pulsating
My wrists are itching for a scratch with a razor
And the pack of Advil rattles
And the pack of Advil rattles and cry grows up my throat
It chokes me, blocks away the air
And I shake
And the pack of Advil rattles
I hold the pack, the sound is deafening
I throw the pack down the bathroom window
It swooshes down
And then it’s silent
Then it’s the dead silence
Then the chocking gets intense
The beating gets extreme
The blood in my ears blocks everything else
My lips twitch
My body shivers
My blood pumps
And my neck itches for a blade
And suddenly,
The rattling of the Advil
Did not seem that bad

I’d like to imagine our hearts
With tiny hands, doing their own dance
When we are chest to chest,
Away from the world, as my lips find meaning in yours.
I’d like to imagine our souls,
Tearing away from our body,
Moving to the rhythm of heartbeats so loud they can pass for music,
But that is exactly what they are.
I’d like to imagine the gasps and the stolen breaths
As if they are pieces of your higher self
(Oh, but can there be a higher you?)
As I trace with one hands the jawline that made me dizzy
And with the other, the ribcage that made me safe.

He comes back home and the wars begin
His parents see his existence, a sin
He's on his phone, talking with a friend
Everything's okay, he would pretend
The friend is rude, the boy is meek
He cannot talk, to not be called weak
His feelings to his crush are very immense
He's not loved back, he's anxious and tense
He was by no means the best
But he deserved to live at least like the rest
Yet he swallowed the pills and he sunk deep
As he slowly drifted into wakeless sleep

So you have a boyfriend..?
I never thought you would.
To be honest I always wished
to be your boyfriend if I could.

You post love letters on his page...
That caught me off guard.
"You're my love," you would say,
"I'm falling for you hard."

Well, congratulations on your boyfriend
but let me point out
that I'm more than jealous
without a doubt.

I've always liked you
and you've always known
Don't think I've changed
just because I've grown.

A poet once said,
8 letters could change the world
They say how I feel
if my heart you never heard.

Yes, believe it or not,
I adore you; I do
Whether you're in love with a million
I will always love you.

I like your laugh
and I've it stated before
I like your smile
and your tear when you're sore.

I like it how you always
know what to say
I like it how we chat
every single day.

You complete me
no, you're another me
When I'm talking with you
I couldn't hide my glee.

So enjoy that boyfriend of yours.
Your love, I hope, would grow
I told you how I feel
and now I don't really know.

It's your choice how to complete.
You could love him and let me fly.
But never say we could just be friends,
'cause that would be a big fat lie.

So you have a boyfriend..?
Well, good for you.
But when you're left heartbroken,
I'll be waiting too.

Out of her own womb, him she bore
Growing up, finding himself, himself he tore
He told her his secret, and she made him sore
And still she's saddened when he can take no more

I look the same, every time I check
In the mirror I see nothing but a wreck
You say I'm nice, but what the heck;
How nice would I be with a slit across my neck?

Leave me be where I may stand
Of me, nothing you shall demand
My life you need to control, I understand
For in your own you have no hand.

When we close our eyes for the last time, where do we go?
Is it based on who we worship, or what we do and what we know?
Will the best people go to Hell for loving so-and-so?
Are we just pieces in the game that God foresaw?

"Things you can bend, you can repair";
The laws of life, they seem too fair.
The analogy is wrong, those you can't compare;
Like broken glass, is a heart in despair.

"Things you can bend, you can repair";
The laws of life, they seem too fair.
The analogy is wrong, those you can't compare;
Like broken glass, is a heart in despair.

When you want to be with someone who doesn't feel the same way
You tend to stay up all night, you tend to think about them all day
It hurts that you're so close, because you're so far away
It hurts to hear the lies of "it's gonna be okay"...

In my life, there was almost nothing I lack
Melancholy spread, though, like in glass, a crack
I realized just as to joy I turned my back,
That for a reason I was made to look good in black

Paint your yellow roses blue
Recall, up ahead, that I knew
They will turn green, and ugly too
So pardon my absence as you rue

"You're too thick to be any good!"
"You're too fat; stop gorging that food!"
"You're so stale, it's like you're made of wood!"
You're just the one who no one understood...

It was dark against a blanket
Of skin as white as snow
And I've hidden it in a way
So that no one, it, saw

But whenever I got naked
I look at it with fear
With despise and with helplessness
For I can't make it disappear

It had been there
For as long as I recall
But I never had enough courage
To break down that wall

I was never enough able
To show them that mark
'Cause I've seen people who did
And to their fire, it gave the spark

But to a selected few
This deformity, I've shown
Some would show me theirs too
And I'd say I'd never known

What if I wasn't born
With this godforsaken thing?
What if it's a scar that's due
To a young me's suffering?

So my despise melts
And in comes my sorrow
For because of this birthmark
I might not live to see tomorrow

Do you ever get that feeling
Like you're being left behind?
Like your friend is out there
Making friends with everyone he can find?
Well I made him who he is
Maybe not literally
But he's met them because of me
I caused my own agony
My own friend
My crush
Crushed my soul, once was so lush
He used to talk to me every day
Now, it's not even close to this way
We're drifting apart and he doesn't mind
He has new friends
I'm left behind
And he's friends with everyone he can find.

Searching for answers,
I went one day
from house to house
with one thing to say:

"What's the hardest feeling
one could ever feel?
That feeling with which
one could never deal?"

Each time a different answer
would surface and would rise.
each answer bringing
greater and greater surprise.

"The hardest feeling," one would say,
"is to be all alone.
It means no one's asking 'bout you,
even when you're bone."

"No," another argues,
"that is not the hardest of all.
Imaging longing for the dead,
but you know there's only a soul."

"You know not the feeling of despair,
it makes you wanna cry.
You lose all hope in life,
and just wish you would die."

"I disagree, my good sir,
there is harder much.
Seeing your loved ones slowly die;
you could never survive such!"

I want home too shocked,
I didn't say a word.
I just sat down on our couch
and gave thought to what I heard.

I never long for a dead one
too much that I cry,
and never had I watched a loved one
slowly in front of me die.

I don't suffer from loneliness,
nor do I from despair.
Perhaps the only thing I suffer from
is an occasional nightmare.

One should not spend his time
in such silly things.
Always know there are ones out there
who have greater sufferings.

Have you ever heard
Of the said-free bird
Whose legs are chained still?
He looks ahead
He bobs his head
And sings in a voice, so shrill.
He's told he's free
He's told of glee
He's told of joy and thrill
Oh, how I cry
For a bird who doesn't fly
But is told that it's his will.

What if i tell you
I'm much more that you see?
Have you ever asked yourself
How much you know of me?

You see my smiles
And laughs and cheers
But that's nothing compared
To the wails and cries and tears

You see I help
Whoever's in need
But have you ever seen
Someone who's helped me indeed?

You see a good talker
Who can always grab the crowd
But there are things I want
That I'd never shout out loud

So you don't know me
And don't pretend that you do.
Because you know of me
As I know of you.

I close my eyes to catch sleep
But sleep's already caught me.
I looked too weak, too dumb to keep
I was thrown where no one can see.
My heart started pounding
My face seemed to just go.
My veins, from the way they were sounding
Had too much blood to flow.
The sun melted to black
Skies exploded with pitch
To all, I turned my back
My wounds, I would never stitch.
Monsters haunted the streets
Biting from front and from behind.
I jumped up from beneath the sheets
And no monsters, did I find.
I sighed with relief, waking up
Scanning the place around.
But the pain would never stop
Reality's harder, I found.
I'm tired, oh and way beyond
I'm done with misery and hope.
To the blade, I've grown quite fond
But my next friend would be the rope.

I'm just waiting for the winter
For when people light fire on the streets
For when they're huddled up to absorb the heat
And I'm standing on the other side.
Your letters in my hand
Your smell in my nose
It was I who chose
To throw the letters aside.
To see them devoured by the flame.
To hear them calling your name.
Hoping it's the last I see of you.
And behind my finger, trying to hide.
Praised be the lord who sent winter
A blessing to broken hearts.
We can burn our sorrow,
Forget tomorrow,
And pretend to have a fresh start.
I'll be waiting for the winter
for when I can burn all that you've sent.
Then I'll watch it curl in the fire
And I'll watch it fueling my resent.

Imagine.
Imagine that everyone knows
About a brilliant golden rose
And they know where it's from.
The journey isn't as steep
Everything you have, you can keep,
To the Rose, everyone would come.

Suppose.
Suppose this object was in fact real.
People would get it despite how they feel
Tricking the other with a rose of gold
The rose's trek was one so lame,
Every lover had given his love the same
What value does the rose now hold?

Now see.
See now why the rose is hidden?
From fake passion, to keep it forbidden
And to keep it pure as true love
It doesn't matter if your life's a wreck
The rose is nothing without the trek
And this is why it is seldom heard of.

You are the reason that I wake up
From my slumber every night
I think of you when I'm about to cry
And know it's gonna be alright

You are what helps me through
My hardest and toughest of times
You're the one I'm willing to do for
All and all the crimes.

You are why I always breathe
And keep that in your mind.
If it weren't for you or your perfect smile
I would have long died

Where should I start?
Why, I don't even know!
Just hearing your name
makes my eyes glow.

It's not called love.
Even passion doesn't fit.
When I hear your name
my face is lit.

From our first time
I was swept off my feet.
It's your name
that makes my heart skip a beat.

I like its taste.
I like its sound.
When I hear your name,
I'm spellbound.

I must conclude
by saying what's to follow:
Without you,
my heart seems hallow.