Flames.
Flames result in something burning into ashes.
The stronger ones, that resist, are not saved from the effects either.
                                                                ­                             They blacken.

And when a fire and passion as strong as ours burns out, one of us is going to be reduced to ashes and the other one is going to carry the weight of the darkest heart around.

I strive to keep us ablaze because somewhere I know that the pain of being reduced to nothingness is much lesser than carrying around a broken piece of what once was.

                                                           ­                     Burnt from all sides.

And I know that I'm the one who's going to resist.
                                                         ­                                         Oh, I fear.

Take a peek inside his poems
if you really want to know him.
He hides himself deep, immersed
a tiny piece in every verse.

Take a peek and take your time
savour the moment of every line.
Relish the thought of what lies there
and appreciate his soul laid bare.

© Pagan Paul (31/08/16)

Some nights,
Am the fallen star,
with too many wishes
hanging upon it.

Some days,
am the wilted flower,
which has seen too many winters
and too few springs.

Mostly I am the invisible presence
that never quite learnt to show itself.
I have watched too many people
and know too well the bitter scent of pretence in the air.

They will pretend to,
see you,
know you,
love you.

Only for them to,
hurt you,
leave you,
**** you

Life is a party some said
but no one warned me
against uninvited  Guest.

If you can't see
anything beautiful about yourself
get a better mirror
look a little closer
(I see my big blue eyes lol)
but just
stare a little longer
because there is something inside you
that made you keep trying
despite everyone who told you to quit
you built a cast around your broken heart
and signed it yourself
you signed it
"they are wrong"
For only you
will ever know your worth
so stare a little longer
because
"they are wrong"

"You need to be thin"
"You have to dress pretty"
"You are naturally tall"
are all you need
then give me a call"
For
your acceptance into the hall
I watched what I ate
I worked out more
and became the facade
to please them all.
So
Click away Mr
take pictures of this skinny
model facade I put on
Prepare
the runway Mr
so I can flaunt andwalk
pretty,thin and tall
just don't ask me
did you eat today
because I'll say
sure I did
I ate plenty of
undernourishment
with a side of regret
sprinkling of diet pills
for dinner I will eat
instagram photos of food
post a few photos of my
pretty,tall,thin self
and suddenly I won't
be hungry anymore.
So click away Mr
Yes I ate and will eat
today
and still maintain this
facade for them all

The worshipers gather in droves
at her feet like a clamouring congregation,
Desperate to begin the ceremony of the
giving and taking of love;
A burning love which only she can radiate.

Shamelessly they lie there,
Basking in her seductive warmth
Blessed at her selflessness while they
selfishly adorn themselves with her splendour,
Taking and taking until she cannot bear it anymore.

Soon she scorns them to the point where her
red ire is clear for all to see,
Blemishing the golden happiness she bestows upon them -
A burning love which only she can turn to pain.

And so it ended.
The beginning of the chapter already
torn apart like it was a false start,
the paper confetti scattering in the wind.
Our lead bodies drag across an endless sheaf
searching for the right metaphor, yet we
splinter and stagger instead.
We scribble around each other, our words intertwined yet
apart, neither of us knowing when we would
rhyme again.
And so this narrative goes on, in the hope that
someday we will be on the same page with the
right ending.