I will not be the vindictive serpent's next victim
laying stitches into the brick and concrete of society.
I will not quietly be brought to my knees
sought to please those who make it my choice to do so.
I will be bold against the ridicule like a person
with a burden on his shoulders the size of boulders.
I will grow bolder if I must, to overcome the suspicious
tradition of holding people down and building ladders
out of the souls of cadavers just to allow people to climb
above another.
I will not crush another person's self esteem
to succeed and I will not watch another person bleed
like a machine leaking oil and pretend that its nothing.
It is not nothing.
People get hurt, words are a cursed knife covered in rust
to those unlucky enough to be cut by such a blade.

I will not climb on the backs of others
to cover my mistakes and I will not scale mountains
on the fountain of someones emotion.
Humans aren't meant to be used. We live in a new world
where the humans are used like a ***** and a nail,
we've all witnessed betrayal and deceit.
We live in a new world where the hurting is conscious
we've all tried to be a little more greedy than honest
and the anaesthetic feeding into the blood is rotten.

The illusion that we see on television is that:
we almost always live in an almost oasislike life
where kites soar over the cliffs and heaven exists.
Where kids are kissed before bedtime and the night
is meant for dreamers to gaze at stars
and not to be spent afar from family in a coal mine.

I will not be the vindictive serpent's next victim
I am on a mission to redefine the word beauty;
oxford finds that the word beauty means
aesthetically pleasing, so the creases in a paper
does not speak of experience but its anti-beauty.
Some make it their duty to be anti-beauty antibodies
who seem like copies directly made from a printer
and the thinner the paper, the better.

My definition differs to those already defined words;
beauty is abstract; beauty is like a race track,
it may have marks, may occasionally fall apart,
may contain broken gravel, cement, concrete,
may not even be complete, but there is something about it
that makes me want to keep visiting it.
The olden saying of beauty is in the eyes of the beholder,
the further we move towards what society wants;
the colder we become to realising that beauty surrounds us,
it is in the love of a brother, love of a mother,
it is in you;
you are beautiful.
Definiton of Beauty: You.

The crowd stares at me in disbelief, they're trying to tell me how to dress,
like the left wing says my jeans are too short, it's unaccustomed to them,
the solution is to loosen my comfort and enjoy the prospects
of being taken hostage by a system that assists in my demolition,
I'm not perfect, I'm not beautiful. They preach it through musicals,
that acoustical tune that says the world is watching every step,
so every breath is not my own to control, I'm holding a cane
that doesn't make me stand taller, doesn't make me stand bolder,
that says the older I get, the more of these I will have to buy.
So I look up to the sky wondering how in the world I got here
a beard, some faded jeans telling me what it means to be amazing,
amazing as defined by pop star icons is found in the way you dressed
not in the depth of your soul, not in the acceptance as a whole
but in the pressed on nails and roaming around with flesh on sale.

I do not live by the words of the left wing nor the right wing
I live within my own world where the words soothes my soul,
there's a hole in my chest but it isn't being filled with clothing
because closing a hole with materials is not as filling as it is.
I do not care how I dress, as long as my purpose is intact
I will not be trapped inside a system that assists in my demolition.

The people in the crowd looks to me, says your purpose-
is to sling curses at an old lady with a veteran husband
that the nation trusted, sling curses at an old lady
who lately struggles to sleep as she seeps into the bottle.
The people in the crowd looks to me, says your purpose
is to worsen the lives of those around me, that old lady
who as of lately suffers from arthritis, with shaking hands
tell her you plan to disrespect her because she is a wreckage
unworthy of salvaging so you're doing a hefty good deed.
The people in the crowd says it is all in the name of being cool,
shattering lives, taking knives from drawers
and drawing in people who self harm to help calm their bloods
with a slice of a blade, this mistake after the next,
a blade forgets the wrist but the people don't shut up.
They look at us, like we are their chopping boards
playing tic-tac-toe with an ink they can afford,
each hateful name is a checkered stain across a wrist
that has been kissed by mothers and stitched by doctors.

The people in the crowd says to me, how do you expect-
any respect dressed as a draped over curtain, for certain-
you are earthen for a purpose and that purpose is to show yourself;
dress like hell is awaiting and the heaven is sacred,
dress like a patriot but swear foul things towards your country,
do it for the money or don't do it at all.
The people in the crowd looks at me, up and down,
their face forms a frown like a rainbow made from hate,
a greyish drab sweeps over their face and they know
that I'm gone.

I taught hate towards myself where a pill in a bottle won't feed it
I've beaten myself to blue and pink where my instincts to be insync
with hatred is but a tempo in a song. I look to the crowd
and question are you proud? I've been alive, trying to minimise
the time I have left before I expire and in this light
I might just give fight to the wrong cause
because I'm lost. A pill in a bottle won't fix what's broken
I've soaked in the word of the crowd for so long
that I'm long gone.

I hope that I can stand tall, stand bolder,
grow older, grow wiser to love myself
and not need help on learning to love.

We tried to play god,
Generate a society of facade
And the resulting chaos,
Heartache and suffering
is merely a start.
So until same *** relations
Is fully accepted
We'd always be indebted
To those who walked
In silent shambles,
Indebted to those
Who became voiceless
Not from fear
But from tireless
Nights wide awake
Struggling between themselves.

We tried to play god,
But instead god played us.

I was a 4 year old kid who visited his father in hospital every day for months. The worst part about that was prentending everything will be normal. That me telling my dad "it'll be ok" will make it come true.But it doesn't.People would walk around and tell me that ok is relative. Some are just more ok than others but in that moment I felt anything but okay. Because to this day, I still say "no kid should watch his father strapped up to machines trying to breathe the words that say don't worry too much". Between each broken breath I can remember him asking about whether I'd behave at home, like a few bruises and cuts on my face would change how anything was going to play out. Some days I wish I could reverse death. Some days I wish I could reverse time. This is one of those days. Because 17 years ago I lost a man who was supposed to show me what it was like to be a man. How to stand like a man. How to walk like a man. How to talk like a man. So you know what really keeps me going? Being childish. It's easier. Easier to pretend. Easier to believe in imaginary things like an imaginary dad giving me advices. Most kids grew up with an imaginary friend or a unicorn, I grew up with an imaginary dad.

A niche of ties
that's built to bind
the decent times
for those lost
unafraid of the cost
of venturing in my mind.

I thank Andrew, so this next bit
will exhibit a bit of him.
I found help when lights were dim
in the form of a kind man
who taught me to withstand
any treatment as unworthy,
the faded hurting
is a recognition of him.

I thank Summer, so this next bit
will exhibit a bit of her.
I found advice after advice of help,
things I could never tell myself;
I found it in the form of her kind words.

I thank timing, that let me find them both
otherwise I'd be unable to let go
and I'd still be hurting unable to change it
So I thank both of them.

It is a clear cold morning in Winter;
I woke with a cold's cough
the sky grows a shade dimmer
from blue skies to grey skies
and my fingers blister.

It is morning yet I feel hopeless
I wake with the day on my mind
in hopes that someone will notice
that today, I was someone,
I look for a way not to feel broken.

It sounds a little too desperate
to text "hey its my b-day"
so I make them guess it
"do you know what today is?"
but my spirits only lessen.

I roll back to bed till afternoon,
I cut the cake with wishes in mind,
I leave a slice like a crescent moon
in case someone suddenly notices
but I finish off that moon.

I cut the cake by myself
with candle-lit wishes
blowing each one by itself
I blow the last with a wish
that ends with the word "help?"

I message "sorry if I bothered you"
with hopes that the response is
"no you didn't" because the truth
is that I am always lonely
so a conversation rubs away the bruise.

I hang on every word I hear
hoping to feel closer to people
but my database of almost non-existent peers
don't make much for conversation
so I pretend I don't shed tears.

Night arrives, the day is at an end
it wasn't as pictured in my mind
nor was I surrounded by friends
but I watched a day of passing lights
and know that it's finally tomorrow again.

The one day I'm supposed to matter is over,
for the last twenty one years it's been the same,
and I hold a torch in my heart for the closure;
but every year I am alone in a dark room
slicing at a cake that was too big for myself
with wishes that asks questions all to well
like "can I have someone who cares about me,
please? Can you help?" but I don't think-
Santa does birthday wishes, nor do falling stars,
and I think God only answers the big questions
so I am left guessing as to who I just sent
my silent candle-lit wishes to.

It all just started with a walk in the woods,
A talk on the woods blossomed like fire,
And they shalt not tire of their speeches,
Because leeches like those will never alone.

The words tasted the moisture on lips
a hidden kiss behind tall fern trees
And the bees will buzz as they ought to do
because the overdue sting is awaiting.

They sit on a log as the stream flows by,
A deer looks up, pauses, then flies away on a blanket of leaves

I wandered here myself and shalt I perish
I'd cherish the time my deer has given to me,
For to house a sea of hearts in a foliage of leaves
means less to thee and more to me.

I lay down my sword and pick up my pen,
I put down the chains and lift up my spirit,
I dance while the whole world crumbles,
As it crumbles around me.

I tumble on along the currents of wind-
passing me, a moment in an eternity,
I still turn to me for advice through the looking glass,
and passing me is a moment in an eternity.

There is a moment where I stop, the world slowly spins as I fall to the floor,
I see a flower blooming in the garden,
The woods that opened my eyes to the world beyond,
Getting smaller
Smaller

Follow like the mist of the morning
I'm yawning but my eyes are wide,
the dew on the leaves seem boring,
I cried but not from a place of sorrow
I follow the luminous orb to a place:
a place so far away from grace.

The cliffs are divided by gravel
I'll travel the rest of the ways tomorrow,
for the light prods a horse with a saddle
I watched the birds fly over my way.
I hear the chirps barricaded by trees
I'll see to it that I'll sail the seas.

The song echoes, I hear nothing but breathing,
the colours taste bland and there I was reaching-
for one glorious moment where it all made sense.
I commend those who travelled these cliffs
that were eclipsed by the deadliest woods.

I smell something sinister yet reminds me of me,
I smell something like the smell of flesh on water,
I smell nothing. I fear, I smell nothing.

I see one last projection of the illuminating orb,
as it transforms into a night sky of stars,
I'm afar from them, but I can feel them touch me.
The warmth I reminisce on, reappears,
I fear I can taste colours and smell roses,
I fear I can hear the birds beyond the trees,
I hear them just fine, and I hear more than that;
I hear my heartbeats, I've beaten the cliffs
eclipsed by dangerous woods.

Sometimes it becomes so hard to write, my mind
                  j       U m    ps  all over the place. My heart
keeps beating and beating on, but the thunderous roar
has d
            r
                o
                    p
                        p
                            e
                                 d    and I'm not sure whether it will come back.
I can't combat these scribbled thoughts and devilish eyes any longer,
my mind has become a JuMBled M   E S S.

I can't finish the sen..... sometimes
and it gets too hard to breathe, like the air inside my lungs

have just disappeared.

I can't sleep, and the sheep I'm counting are taunting me.
The darkened rings around my eyes shy away from light,
because I am done.

I am done.
I am slowly decaying.
I am slowly slowly decaying
I am...slo.... dec..ing.

And I just want it all to **STOP!

As she has before
So she will after.
As he has before
but he hurts after.
As she has tried
so she will try again.
As he has tried
he has given up.
As she has met fate
she shall greet with love.
As he has met fate
shall he learn to let go.

As she has found love before
So she will find love after.

*As he has found love before
he finds it no more

Happiness is the sunrise shining directly in your eyes,
enough to expose a light that warms your face
but not so misplaced as to burn your skin.
Happiness is in every bite of a creamy cake,
every bitter mistake erased and a poem
that solemnly says "maybe happiness is different-
for everyone".
But does happiness exist? Ask yourself what you may,
I know to this day, I still smile at the sight of her photo;
I still feel hollow when I remember heart wrenching moments,
and at this point I'm an open book to people who see me.
Life is filled with bitter-sweet moments, a smile and a hurt,
a flower and a dirt, a magical kiss and a curse.
So happiness to me, is in the eyes of everyone I've ever held,
the melding mesh that envelops the heart, not to feel frail,
not to feel stale, but to remind ourselves that "we are living-
because we are smiling".

Happiness is the sweet moments of the bitter-sweet mix,
the little kisses on sunny days and the little things
that remind us that through all the trouble, **WE ARE LIVING.

The light inside is broken but I'm still working
the moments of hurting seems to come and go
like a tide built from an undertow of anguish.
I let anger be my language and the bandage
only manages to grow in size.
In retrospect I should have expected less
I'm blessed that I found this sort of emotion
in an ocean of human sensation, I've taken
enough of what is to be learned.
Bearing another day felt almost impossible
as colossal losses shall feel and in tragedy
happening I found something else I want
a haunted thought that maybe I'm okay,
maybe just the slight; I am okay.
I would have been more okay in your arms,
but I am convincing myself that I am okay,
and like a torrent of despair, you shared
heartache into my soul.

The heart inside is broken, but I'm still working;
I remind myself it doesn't worsen
but in moments, I'm fervently certain I'm wrong.

I'll wait for tomorrow, and the day after;
til laugh seeps my soul, for then I will know
that the glowing light I've been expecting;
will be switched back on.

I will wait till I can learn to love again,
next time it won't be in the arms of pretence.
I will love her as I love wielding a pen
and fighting my inner turmoils.
I will love her as though she is my world
a world unknown to me before.
I will love her like a crimson moon
overlooking the riverside.
I will love her as I have loved you
but only more.
I will love her with complete radiance,
and build on my patience, for her.
I will love her like the complex things in life,
meant to be understood and studied.
I will love her as if we shall perish in waters;
and with a breath, I will lift her life like a balloon,
and shall that be the last kiss we ever share;
I will bear the pain of letting her know-
I have only ever held her in my heart.

I will love her as I will adore roses, not to wilt
but to instil the most of joy as I could.
I would love her as if she was a gem in my life,
unknown to opened eyes that she is sparkling.
I know I will love her,
and that is a promise of honest care
that shares paths with the joyous moments.
I know I will love her, because I know
she will love me too.

It's killing me to see you like this
though the bliss has ended,
the fences are still being defended.
So don't pretend you're not allowed to hurt
everybody knows it's worse.
Don't listen to a word they say
dreams don't go away,
though the world may bury cuts
these wounds will heal the same.
Don't listen to a word they say
you won't feel the same.
Don't listen to a word they say
bruises will heal away.

What did I do wrong to deserve this?
Why do you hate me so much as to hurt me?
Why does this keep happening?
What have I ever done to you for you to hate me?
Am I a tragedy magnet, awaiting the next storm to wipe me out?
Why couldn't I find a love that was built on genuine care?
Why did I have to find you?
Out of everyone in this world, why was it you who hurt me?
Why couldn't you have just told me the truth, left in a happy bliss?
Why couldn't you remember that at any time I have tried all I could?
Why ...just why do you hate me?

You used to say I didn't make you feel safe, and you hated that about me.
I used to silently say, you made me feel like I never mattered, and I hated that about me.

I'm still silently saying, buried under a thousand unanswered questions;
why do you hate me so much as to set out to hurt me?
Why can't I seem to do the same, why can't I just hate you even a little bit?
Why am I so stupid to still feel like I could think of you and associate the word love?
Why am I so stupid?

I guess sometimes this world is just like that; we live in our own minds for a little too long, longer than a breath and it drives us insane. One breath at a time.

I don't know if I'd make it breathing, this breathing thing is getting a little too hard for me.

Why do you hate me? When all I've ever done was tried my best to love you?

Why can't I breathe?

Why can't I just have everything go well for once? Just once?

Why did you have to turn out like the rest of them?

What happened to the caring soul I remember who came to my defence when I was called a nerd? What happened to the person who made sure I was safe in a car crash? I guess I've been led to believe so many things could happen, I guess I spent too much time in my mind.

Out of so many billions of people, why am I so unlucky?

Goodbye forever G.L.K.

I envy the wind that caresses the blades of grass
as it passes the rocky sides of mountains and clouds.
I envy the proud pigeons bobbing back and forth
unafraid to be caught by the glances of the human eye.
I envy the blue sky for its resilience to a suffocating storms
twisting to contort any sign of blue left to the vision.
I envy the rhythm of a one man band singing the blues
untouched by the true nature of the perilous paths.
I envy the fishes encased by a life of fast wishes
which swiftly swishes with unthinking thoughts.

I envy the fishes because fishes can't cry,
or at least can't show that they're crying.
I envy everything that makes this world okay,
because right now: I am not feeling okay.

*When did you hate me so much that you set out to hurt me?

Don't don't don't
look at me for kindness
I I I am not a kind man.
Though you can carry on
this path is hard for me,
I won't won't won't
cherish all these thoughts.
So run run run
along I'm going my own way,
I won't won't won't
let you stop me.
I won't won't won't
let the ghost of you
ruin this for me.
Though my heart may carry on
this won't be cherished thoughts
and say what you may but
I won't won't won't
lose another breath for you.

Tonight my heart writes a sad song.

I will write for example ' My heartbeats sings the blues
And the night sky is shaking in silence'.

The stars dimming with every fresh breath of air.

Tonight I can write a heartbreaking song.
I gave my heart to her and she left the next day.

Through nights like these, I sat under the stars
Watching her smile lit like fireflies in the night.

She loved me once, and I loved her too.
Who wouldn't find love within her smile?

This night, I write the saddest song.
To think I held her in my arms before I held empty air.

To hear the sour surrender of silence
I used to hear her laughs, now my musical tunes tired.

What does it matter where she is.
For I know ingrained in my whole, she is not here.

Tonight I will write of emptiness like a sky
That is staring down the Earth without a light.

My eyes gazed upon the faint stars, praying it was her
My heart has found her, missing from my eyes.

The night sky casing us all, changes when morning arrives
And so like us, we too change when time comes.

I no longer hold her that's true, but with a million hearts I loved her.
My songs from my heartbeat, I hoped reached her ears.

Somewhere else, she will be somewhere else,
Showing her shine of a smile to other beings.

I love her no more, just the disdain that kept me going.
Maybe I do love her for my heart faults without her.

Though I held her in my embrace, empty nights like these,
I wished on a falling star to hold her.

Although I had not been blessed by a thousand stars to get to love her,
I let my heart write a sad song in hopes she can hear their beats.

Am I allowed to see
you smile one last time,
the ghost of you is still
so pretty in my mind.
Do you mind if I say it,
your love was war,
but it was my favourite
so I keep the bloodied bandages.
The care package changed hands
I am a letter in a book of pages
I now fight a different war
but much doesn't really change.
The rainbow behind your eyes faded
I remember every one of your eye colours
and how they persistently persuaded
me to hold live ammunition to my chest.
The artillery remnants
scattered across the soils
I stand in line at remembrance
holding sepia stained photographs.

**I am fighting a different war,
one that is worth fighting for.

There has been rain clouds
these past few days,
I've been allowed
to love for a long time,
Maybe i should drown
the problems alone,
maybe it's enough,
I have loved enough.
You clouded my trust
And now I know
that I have loved enough.

I hope you find all that you're looking for.

Now everything is falling
like a tonne of bricks
I only blame myself
because I got myself into this.
I miss memories bliss
each falling brick shatters
that clattered mess underneath
my feet.
And I miss her
but I don't think it matters,
the shattered bricks
miss me by an inch
and how I wish it didn't.

I'm trying to wear a smile like a lilac stuck in a fire. I only ever seem to burn brighter ignited by the lighter and fuel that was her heart and her love. I found enough of myself in another person's shadow, the shallow skin deep love I didn't know I was holding. The moments were golden but now they slip by me, I tell myself to keep fighting but these memories seem to burn with the lilacs. My back is broken by all the weight of the broken hearts I am forced to carry. The memories we built in photographs and celebrations all ignited into ash and dust in the winds, all within a mere second and do I regret it? If she was to break my heart again, in less than a breath, I will give all that I have left to her.

The curse of being so unattractive have taught me a few things,
the hurt that comes with it only ever seems to get worse.
The first reminded me of how stained yellow my teeth were,
I thought for sure there wasn't going to be a second.
I had better luck guessing as there was a second after the first,
the curse continues on and so did my lessons.
Blessings in disguise are better left untouched
because although I was enough, enough isn't just good enough,
the love she felt for me subsided within mere months,
so I learnt to never be too invested into something so short lived.
I'll give myself a cookie if that was where my classes ended
but I befriended a girl who mended my broken heart
but time drove us apart as she found herself a new job
and I a new hobby. I'd lobby against the idea of not trying enough,
but frankly we were both too lazy to make any of it work.
The perks of having a heart that is resilient enough to damage
is being able to take savage heartbreaks one after another,
my brother helped me see that I probably was the problem
as my relationships ended so often, it was a clear patten.
I couldn't fathom the idea that I was solely responsible
till I met a girl through modern day digital means,
I mean I haven't met her face to face but the thought was there
I bared my soul to this girl and I guess this time distance
drove us to listen to other things in life. That and blood parasites
are dangerous things. Lesson 5: Don't **** with blood parasites.
Which leads me to my last and final lesson of learning to not hurt
I fear it has only gotten worse when I think of-
how much I currently miss her.
The fissure that seems to break bits and parts of my life,
I'm trying to stop mid-strife but the point is that
sometimes you can love a hundred people
this evil thing exists in this world where things just don't work out,
you can hold thousand of doubts but if it is meant to be,
it will be.
The most important lesson I can ever give anyone
is to treasure those around you before they are long gone,
the same old song seems to sing in kids show
of how we should love everyone we know,
but frankly the truth is; if that one person is right enough,
if they're willing to try hard enough,
a volcano is just a hot mountain,
an earthquake is just the ground having a dance party
and a Tsunami is just the fishes way of saying "let's have fun".

Footnote: My lessons may be totally inaccurate as it is something you have to experience, go out there and get your heart broken as much as you can, it is the only way you will learn.

The bottle on my lips
like the kiss of a thousand stars
all so far from where I am.
The chocolate on my tongue
sprung the feelings of a hundred hugs
enough to raise warmth in my skin.
I'm akin to the fluttering fireflies
who light up the night just right.
I'm akin to the swaying trees
that sweeps its leaves off the branches.
I'm akin to the chirping cicadas
who has not yet croaked its last croak.
I'm akin to the wind that travels under my coat,
the obvious quote that is travel alongside the winds-
and feel the tingling on your skin-
tonight may be long but tomorrow is coming.

What if the internet was one of god's misconceptions,
a planet living in wifi connections trying so hard to stay connected
that the affected tends to roam their lives along cable lines
like the fable tides that seem to sweep everything in its path
except this time there isn't an ark nor a Noah to make a difference.
The interest of the mass is on what is trending and what is fashionable
a passable phase that seem to live and die in a short life span.
Along with the internet, society gave birth to cyber bullies and trolls
who rip holes out of an already shaking foundation
the basement and the attic aren't where we find shadows lurking
but through surfing the internet.

We have created monsters who roam bits and bytes of data
reaching victims faster than they have ever done so before,
we shut the doors to our kids lives and health
when we say "just close the computer, they'll go away"
because to this day, I have yet to see the benefits of shutting down
when shutting out is only keeping ourselves locked in with them.
They never go away, they lurk behind keystrokes
created to evoke suffering and pain amongst the greatest
because hate is something that is only ever taught.

I don't want to look at her photos right now,
they'll only induce tears in my eyes.
I've practically cried them dry.
I don't want to look at her photos right now,
but I kind of want to at the same time,
because I'm so scared, so ******* scared,
that they will be the only thing I have left of her.
People tell me it takes time to get over a breakup
but what if that's not enough, what if time still won't heal me.

[STOP CRYING YOU ******* FOOL!]

Fatigue does to me what feels like a goodnight kiss
I miss the way she'd remind me to sugar coat my dreams
like the cream on top of a hot beverage on a winters day.
I face myself every day hoping that she'd find her way back
I lack the courage to ask for her to return into my life
I know the night is long and the days without her feels longer.
I hear her voice echo in my heart mimicking my heartbeat
the discrete sound of what feels like a million shattered pieces
each part increases in size hoping that they'd fill back up.
I love her and I had hoped she had found herself to love me too
but confused to what love really means, I know she did not love me.

Fatigue does to me what feels like a goodnight kiss;
I miss being able to sleep at night without tiring myself out.
I doubt I'll sleep tonight but I do hope she haves sweet dreams
like the sweet tea in the morning just the way she likes.

I felt the arrow pluck my heart
I don't know how to help myself
I'm slowly but surely falling apart
and I'm dying for your help.

I watch the sun rise from your eyes
then the clouds swept the shine away
I'm trying so hard to get to sleep at night
but I feel like I'm slowly wasting away.

I felt the familiar beat of your heart
I guess I must have remembered wrong
because it was the heels as you depart
and my thought is a jumbled song.

I wish you would just turn back time
back to when you felt in love with me,
to when we fought the world and felt fine
but I guess the one to blame is me.

I look around and I don't know what to feel
my mind has become a muddled mess
I hope that over time I will learn to heal
but there's this tightening in my chest...

and I just feel like I can't breathe.

To you:
Who deserves every chance at happiness.
_________________­__
I hope he loves you more than I ever did
I hid my heart behind a ribcage too tightly sealed
I shielded my heart from the thieves inside my mind
I've been blind to not realise the thief is beautiful
with a musical voice that sounded like an angel's choir;
one that I could never tire of.
A big part of me knew that I wasn't good enough, I just knew;
through all that he does, I hope he makes you feel rich
And I hope that he loves you more than I ever did.

I hope he makes you happier than I ever could
I never understood how you could look at yourself in such a light,
you're bright, funny, pretty, beautiful and a million more words
some I've never heard of, but I don't understand
how you managed to find hate against yourself.
I hope I helped you felt a little better about yourself,
I hope I helped you see yourself through my eyes
and the eyes of anyone you have ever met or will come to meet.
I could bleed an ocean, drip by drip from an aching heart
but if it was a start to make you see yourself as a piece of art;
the masterpiece that you are. I would.
I hope he makes you light up with smiles everyday
and say all the right and perfect things to make you feel loved.
I hope he hugs you tight within his arms, holding you to his chest;
I hope he knows he is blessed to have you in his life.
I hope you see that you're magnificent, great, never just plain good,
and I hope that he makes you happier than I ever could.

I hope he reminds you of what it was like to live in dreams
that seamless paradise where everything is so well connected;
the things you expected is right in the palm of your hands,
all the plans you ever made have all in some way came true
the blue that you ever felt in your heart is obliterated
and all the situations you find yourself in makes you happy.
I hope he lets you fullfil your dreams, everything you ever wanted;
I hope he helps you achieve those dreams.
I've seen a glimpse of what your dreams are like,
they are marvellous; and your happiness away from the nightmares;
I hope he cherishes them,
and I hope he cherishes you.
I hope he is always there putting you above the TV or computer screen,
and I hope that he makes you feel like you're living in a million dreams.

I hope you know; I'll be ok. I'll learn to be ok,
no matter how hard it might become for me,
but I hope that he loves you with all of his heart;
and I hope that you find everything you want in life,
the light that brightens your eyes on why you are in many ways amazing,
the racing heart sensation that you would feel with him,
I hope that you will be as happy as you ever wanted.
I hope he loves you more than I ever did, ever do and ever could.

__________________­_

From:
The guy stuck in his own mind, trying to find a way out.

Half a year's worth of memories became ashes in the wind
that dimmed the light from where I seemed to have fallen.
The autumn comes soon but monsoon storms await me,
the safety I found in your arms have seem to dissipate
and motions of decay seem to slowly envelop me.
Rigor Mortis
This feeling of missing you is similar to torture
I've spent a quarter of my lifetime wishing for someone like you
but then you came and took that away from me.
I am tired,
I am awake but I am tired,
and soon I will fade;
like a scorched moment, the ashes seem to float into the sky;
I'd lie if I weren't feeling hurt,
but the dirt seems to comfort me enough.

Half a year's worth of memories became ashes in the wind.

Write every word as if they will never cease to exist
diminish every demon within each single letter;
bring together the jovial gestures and utter anguish
captured in comforting language that manages to strike at hearts-
by breaking apart the tantalising daggers in souls and spirits.
Poetry is meant to be fierce, every piece of writing
is meant to encapsulate a lightning's roar:the thunder
and sunder the bits of the world that chooses not to fight.
Each write teases at breezes that aren't blizzards
and visits on topical interests that puts the world on its head.
Each write bled the soul of the poet and artist behind it
to bring sight to blinded eyes and give fantasies to reality.
The brutality of brandishing a knife is like a simile:
meant to cut simply at the way the world functions
and cross the junctions of where two things are alike but unseen.
Poetry is the trickling of sands in a world without deserts;
it confesses the soul of the one who holds the pen,
always meant to defend the views possessed by the poet,
holding closest every word as if it was still tied to the heart
and tear apart the fabric of a world too darkened by shadows.
Poetry is an arrow that isn't meant to stop the heart, but stop the hate.

I want to:
die in a breath,
live in a heartbeat,
chase a sunrise
like the wind
under a butterfly's wing,
smile like the fishes
aren't watching,
hear the cricket croak,
soak in vivid poems,
become lost in the stars,
chase the cars
that I can't afford,
raise the hairs on my neck
from the affection of a kiss,
teach a kid that
heartache is natural,
witness a meteor shower
and its ashes,
hear a pigeon
give a soliloquy
and watch a rose
frozen in mid July.
I want to touch dreams
and dance in nightmares

I want to crawl into a ball and dissapear,
hear the bells of joy ring for me just once,
hear the song of the people in ecstasy,
chant I'm blessed to be alive with others
like mothers seeing her baby brought to this world
the pearl soul and red feet that makes the pain fleet.
I seek that kind of satisfaction, that kind of happiness;
as a cloud carries us to elevated heights,
the nights are meant for closed eyes, sleep and dreams;
not terrified screams and non-stop train of thoughts.
The train has left, the station is closing,
STOP THINKING! LEAVE!
I believe one day I may just be close to seeing that train
right before a rainstorm dampens my eyes.
I have waited for a train that doesn't stop where I stand,
I am...not sleeping once again.

**I want to crawl into a ******* ball and just dissapear.

There's a barbed wire encasing your heart
no broken parts need to be held together by it
the silent sound of blood trickling down my arm
the harm I've done to myself led to no result,
like a knife in a cult I am covered in blood
and the blood I bled barely seemed to move you.
This was usual because the barbed wire ribcage
has kept your heart safe but has also kept it safe.

There's a barbed wire encasing your heart
and I promise I wil let the wires break
but never mistake it for your heart.

There's a barbed wire encasing your heart
not meant to keep things in but to keep things out,
to keep doubt on the realities of love,
to feed enough companionship in loneliness.

There's much to say
about your face,
the symmetry of it
makes me lose focus often,
your perfect blue eyes
like a cerulean sky
so mysterious in its shape
like a soot filled fireplace.
Your small mouth
are where best kisses are housed.
Your eyebrows arent too dark;
they are a canvas for live art
settled with or without a brow pencil.
You are the prettiest person I've ever met
with roses for cheeks stained crimson red.

There's much to say
about your face.

I do not love you as to hold you in my palms every second,
not as the blessing of wishful thinking, not as sunny days,
I love you as to let you float freely to your will, I love you in rainy nights,
I love you as overtly and covertly as possible. I do not love you as rubies and emeralds but as heartbeats and stolen kisses. I love you as a fleeting moment I may come to regret. I love you with or without cupid's arrow.
I love you.

She told me "say what you must, but do it in two words"
I knew two isn't enough to say what I need to,
I needed a third but I could see the anger in her face,
and I decided to try for the two words in the first place.

Don't leave.

& if I had more choices I would beg her with words
saying "baby please don't leave me, I'm begging, trying to make it as your boyfriend"
" I know it's dangerous, the path that I'm taking,
but baby please don't leave".
"And if I could change it, I'll learn to be more careful, because I always need you, so baby please don't leave".

But in two words, all I could ever really say or feel is a barrier between heart and mind,

Don't leave...          please?