Quote that black bird for me,
Cause I don’t have the time.
I’m too busy deciding
Whether great snowfalls will end it all
Or ***** of fire this time.

You love skinny-dipping in my tears
yet you think they are pathetic
You love the snowflakes of my blue days
Yet you say I should cheer up a bit
You say I should control my anger
Yet you poke me,insult me,what do you what from me
You love when I cower and crawl under
yet you say I should be stronger,tougher
You love the hate you make me give
Yet you say am mean and selfish
You love when am weak and begging
Yet you say am greedy and desperate
You say you love me,you do all this out of love
Yet behind closed doors you treat me like dirt
Yet you remind me am illegitimately born
Yet you flaunt how pathetic I am
Yet you expose me to abuse
Yet you expose me to drugs
Yet you deny me my rights
Yet you drain my soul dry
Yet I trust you,believe each word.
Yet am saying Now am sorry,am done.
No I won't live like this anymore
NO MORE,AM DONE

I've been looking for you in each stranger,
Each blue eye with sand hair makes me turn,
Each musical note I play is a reminder of your name,
I often forget to distinguish my voice from yours though this mics
I said I'll be strong but mama I miss you.

I guess blood is thicker than time than death since,
Each eye on this arena feels like yours
Every time I give life to this fiction characters
I hear your laugh,feel you cringe,
Each attempt to hide from this paps,
Feels like a carbon copy of yours,only with a failed attempt
I said i'll be strong but mama I miss you.

It's been a decade,I want to lie i'm stronger/mature i'm not
I still ball over and cry sometimes,especially days like this,
I still let them in even though you warned me about naivety,
I still shy away from the life you and dad gave us,
I know I said i'll be strong but mama I miss you.

I have loads of questions,so I ask the siblings you gave me,
Hoping they asked the same questions to you,
Hoping they pour your knowledge to me,
I watch  you,how you were,so beautiful so young,
I know I said i'll be strong but mama I miss you.

I've tried been good,
Though this creepy's make the search engine say am not,
I want to talk about your old man and your boys,
Right now though I'll be a little selfish because,
I know I said i'll be strong but mama I miss you.

You told me today,
That you wanted to die.
I could tell in your voice,
That it wasn’t a lie.

I never noticed till now,
Of how you fidgeted more.
I never noticed till now,
Of the sweaters you now wore.

But I did noticed now,
How your skin seemed pailer,
How your eyes darker.
Have you been eating?
Have you even been sleeping?

But when you told me,
I finally saw.
The darkness that surrounds you.
When did you start to fall?

Why didn’t I noticed,
That your smile missed your eyes.
Why didn’t I noticed,
That your voice told such lies.

If I had noticed sooner,
Would this had ever happened.
If I had noticed sooner,
Would you had never saddened.

I screamed for you,
Wanting it to not be true,
I cried for you,
Though I didn’t have a clue.

I waited for you,
For you to react,
But the mirror stayed still,
My image intact.

Unfinished,
unpolished,
unfurnished;
unpublished.
Like us, a draft
of what can be called
"the both of us."
A draft created
that's open for change.

A change
to be better
---better
than who we are
or what we are
in the midst of the conflict
that floats around us
for the sake of us
for the both of us
---for each other.

A change
to be smoother
---smoother
with no mistakes,
with everything
in order;
consistent,
and coherent
even with the dialogues
we say that matter.

A change
to be clearer
---clearer,
meaning it is
at least what it is
meant to be conveying
with no underlying
vague wordings
when it comes
to our feelings
---for one another.

But that's there all is:
a draft
of what could be called
the both of us;
a product
of what we can become
if we make it become;
a product
of the possibilities
of what can be us,
of what might be us,
of what is it between us
between the fragments
of the words,
the lines,
and the series
of all of them
that constantly paint
faint descriptions of us,
descriptions
created [fabricated]
in my mind
like a work of fiction,
of pure imagination.

Unfinished,
unpolished,
unfurnished;
unpublished,
l­ike the poems
I wrote for us;
like the poems
about us;
like us, a draft.

Judgement

left, right, left, right, forwards, backwards

As our footsteps are clattering with noise, click clack, clatter, we hear ourselves move forward to our destination

Doing anything to help us get there, laugh, smile, frown, dance, recording every precious moments of our life

Than you hear something, not behind you, not beside you but with you

Judgement creeps with you, it’s always been with us, its not just darkness its more

More emotions clattered together, that something forms up, into each and everyone labelling someone as a something

When this occupies our mindset, we start seeing reflections of ourselves, what we made ourselves to be, but we don’t want society to see something else

Why would we rather be called “beautiful” than “ugly” when we ourselves always look in the mirror and label it “ugly” why would we assume that others won’t see what we see

Perception, the way we are presented to the world is different than the way we are presented to ourselves

Maybe its the thought that we judge ourselves, that makes us think that others are also perceiving us that way

Judgement can be dark, but if we change the way we think of ourselves maybe judgement could come out positive