I don't know how much things I haven't apologised for yet
I don't know how much time I have left to say all these things.
I sometimes stay up at night and think of the wasted apologies
and the lack of acknowledgement for people I take for granted.
I remember waking up with pins and needles in my feet,
wondering if I walked will the pins learn to make me bleed.
I don't know how much my family knows I love them,
how often I think about them in times of troubles
or even if the rubbles of the foundations that hold me up
is enough to leave a footstep trail to where I will lie.
I wonder how many missed opportunities for apologies I have lost to time.
I wonder how many missed chances for I love yous
which would change the blue coating my soul.
I wonder if I'll ever know what it was like to not think back.
Before the thoughts fade to black, I'm accustomed to this.

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.

I recognise envious eyes,
jealousy runs in my life like a knife-
that plunges into the spine of a hero,
a worshipped figure can still get stitches.
This is the epilogue of a life distorted,
bordering on borderline personality disorders.
This is my life, the green eyed monster is watching,
being honestly cautious of my responses
I make it my responsibility to remove the hostility.
I put out a net, restricting its movement
but it spends its time slithering through it.
This is me at my truest,
jealous hearted, falling apart but falling in darkness often
like I'm lost in my own coffin, coughing from the option of breathing in dirt and dust or not breathing at all. This is me,
I am embracing the hardest feeling to admit,
I am envious,
I am jealous.

You ran marathons across the yellow tapes,  
just to break into an already broken space,
you prey on with your own cherished hate,
while you remain snugged in front of a screen,
uploading scene after scene of horrific child abuse.
You laugh with tormenting captions that proves
you are an addition to the abuse on innocent lives;
running taunting lines that read the black eyes
make her blue eyes look even more cute,
as a collective you cheered on abuse in all kinds
and with like minds you cheered on crime:
from **** to abuse, from violence to hatred-
so that the safest place would only exist
with the absence of you and your kind.

I was eighteen, I watched my friend break into tears;
says her worst fears are those among her own peers,
says her worst fears are those demonic digital fiends
that seems to only want to drag her underground
till her cries barely made a sound she says it's hard,
I'm alive but god do I wish I wasn't, I wish I wasn't,
and the rotten stench of online monsters stained her soul.
I was eighteen when I watched my friend lowered into a hole,
a hole that was the perfect symbolism of her dreams and hopes.

You and your kind are the demonic figure reflected in a mirror
of a person suffering from eating disorders. The distorted view
is just your after image projected onto a live being's mirror,
you place handguns into adults and teens who suffer
from suicidal thoughts because a buffer of your hateful words
seems to hurt the most, you are the ammunition
that screams to loud for anyone to hear or to listen,
you are the chair that encourages every hurting mind
to climb up and take a swing off a rope,
you are the evil that sees people jumping from buildings,
screaming that children aren't worth living in this world
so you direct them to hurl themselves off a broken cliff,
you are the hateful comments on a family breaking apart,
you are the scars on a burn victim that remains noticeable,
you
you are every broken tooth and nail in a world that is decaying;
and if we're all so broken then the token for breaking us goes to you.

Will we ever learn to shut you out,
before a home turns to a house.

Each grain of sand slipping in this hourglass of life-
seems to remind me that you aren't right by my side-
the fleeting wide-eyed surprises we shared together
doesn't make up for a better night rest and I'm up again
with a paper and pen, penning my pensive thoughts
that are caught in the back of my skull into words.
The hurt is still there but I'll forget them all if I could
just hold you in my arm.

Remind you that I am the calm after a storm and your-
eyes are the most beautiful gems I have ever seen.
The emerald green really brings out the depth of your heart,
but the art you bleed to life seems to spill off the canvas
and the answers I'm looking for can only be found in your eyes.

Tonight; I'm reminded of how much you made me smile,
tonight; I'm reminded of how much I have loved you.
Every moments pass by, days go by and I know,
I know, I know, I missed the chance to ever see you again.
This pen bleeds my anguish but the tear stained tissues
captures my misused miss yous.

You have cities in your eyes, I wish I could see them again,
the sunrises, sunsets, the butterflies, the birds and the horizon;
beyond the photos,
beyond the memories.

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?

I etch a scar from my heart
Transfer it to you, the blue that coats it
coaxes venom back into snakes.
Ink poisoning is better than lead poisoning,
the moistening of lips from the ink
sinks into the bloodstream more positive
than the poisoning of lead into the blood.

I won't colour in between the lines,
I'm combining the pain, the mess
the dressed up confessions of sickness,
I'm the wicker of a candle set on fire
and you are the canvas I will burn.
You may think you're the subject
but we are no couplet, you're capulet
And I a Montague, and upon this view
I will cherish memories of alchemy & of poison.
You're roaming in the background
across the scenic route of my painting,
to be frank you're staining my conscience
to be honest you're the opus that feels so soulless,
the hopeless denial.

I just want to keep you safe in my arms
I can't seem to carry the weight of both of us
and I have been trying to keep my brain happy
but that ****'s broken,
that ****'s broken.

I been meaning to tell you I'm crying,
I just can't seem to make it all go away
and I know it's hard to admit it but this heart's open,
but that ****'s broken
that ****'s broken.

I been trying to live up to your expectations,
the way you make me feel like a tsunami is approaching,
and I'm watching TV hoping my dreams were made like movies,
but that ****'s broken
that ****'s broken.

I stay awake in the night, saying goodbye to my dreams,
and it seems that you don't even notice, but hey-
I'm making the effort for the both of us and this relationship is hurting
So please don't tell me;
that that ****'s broken,
Because I'm hurting
and I'm broken,
but I'm still going,
I'm still going.

I am the work in progress you're dreaming of,
I am the wounded soldier you're leaning on
And
I am the one who will love you into the afterlife
So tonight...
Can you give me your time and just smile
Because it keeps me going
the light behind each whitened teeth is enough of a drug,
and I've been ****** up and broken long before you,
So smile, smile, smile
And don't tell me we are broken,
Because I'm still going...
I'm still going...

And this love of ours will be a story to tell our kids,
About the kiss that completes the afternoon
and the spoon we shared on New Year's Eve.
So don't tell me this love is broken
Because I'm still going
I'm still going.
You...make me want to keep going.

My life is filled with doors that are constantly revolving
I'm always involved in either letting someone leave
or hoping that someone will walk through,
knowing that all I do is stay welcoming,
I'm tired of being the door man always laying dormant,
I'm just another welcome mat.
One lover after the next,
they'd wipe their feet on their exit,
and I'm tired of asking who next is,
because I'm tired of wondering whether every
single one of them regretted it.

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.

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.

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.

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!

I have been thinking about love
and how you were my first.
I remembered the time that you
pulled alongside me as I was
walking home and offered me
your comfort and said it’s never
good to walk alone.
That’s how the monsters get lunch,
you said to me.
The echoes of joyfully twisted laughter
sings in my ears and for more
than a minute I enjoyed it.
I watched you put your steps to match
your shadows because it’s never
too good to dwell on darkness.
I knew right then, that I could tie my definition of beauty to the mere memory of you.
And so I did.
Now every separating kiss, I look for your lips
and every hand I hold I watch the bold sudden dodge of shadows.
And it is never there.
Because it only happened with you,
and with you I knew what it was like to be with something beautiful.
So I give you my heart, whatever five fifths to a part of a whole, I give you my heart.

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.

The world spins so fast; time appears to spin along with it
the arms of the clock pivot miles and miles before any notice,
for some the closest thing they have is a simple single minute
that could change a cynic into a glass half full kind of optimist.
Time sifts through the palms of some people's lives like
a night that only begins and ends with a single flickering star,
for some the hours are brought to minutes and even smaller,
time becomes even shorter. The sands of time cascades
through the hourglass as time leaves way for things spoilt.
Sometimes I wonder, why can some remain happy throughout the day
and I can't maintain a facade of a smile with each passing and slipping grain.

The familiar siren echoes against the street's pavement
the blind maiden seems to play favourites against my colour,
as if the cover of my internal organs speaks of my character
and the caricatures show the nakedness of my colour, my skin.
If beauty is only skin deep, do I weep from the labels I wear?
Do I tear at my skin to rid the chains that bound me to history?
Does my glistening skin seem more tainted as time passes,
or do I scurry away to live in the separated classes assigned to me?

The green of the grass reflects off of my skin, I am green
I have been as blue as the ocean since the day I discovered life and death,
with each breath I continue to realise more and more about life,
like how my future wife might have to answer "you're with him for real?"
The teal of the sky would remind her to be patient with people;
life is a story, the sequel is how we choose to wield the pen and write,
the white blank paper may be filled with dots and marks,
like our heart it may contain scratches and bend but we defend it
because being defenceless in this modern day is a call for exploitation.
Colours should be labels given to objects,
why can we not strive to give a new label by removing our blindfolds,
why can we not just say I have a soul made of gold, or I am beautiful,
why can we not find more labels that are suitable in describing character?

The blind maiden is slowly starting to look pass my skin
and lawyers with pockets lined with green are not a definite win.
The barriers between classes seem to have tumbled, so stumble and fall,
we've all built our own defences in life, our own barriers,
but when shall we stop building and start breaking down barriers?

Leave winter days for winter, the summer might just yet vanish.

Sometimes I wonder whether it would be easier,
if a meteor of memories crashed and burnt into nothingness,
or if I carried it with me long enough it would degrade with my soul.
Sometimes, some days I reminisce the taste of sea salt,
across my tongue from the residues of the beach,
and some days I reminisce the same taste of tears
I have cried over women.
There is a barrier between who I aim to be and who I dream to be,
there aren’t enough shining knights so I buy a shiny armour;
just after a time when knights in shining armour aren’t valuable.
Some days I buy the ***** and bury it all alongside a drink,
but most days I try to find out the past mistakes of my dyslexia in women.
Do I or do I not ...want to relive it all again?
Whether the summer breeze or the winter wind blows across me;
Shall I see you still standing silently awaiting me?

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.

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 tied my mind into something so unkind,
when I gave it time to think of you
and everything you mean to me.
I break like a bark peeling from a tree,
just hoping you could see that I'm here,
not transparent,
visible,
in the flesh,
and yearning to be yours.
I've let demons loose in my mind,
my heart has become the blinded guard
and there is just hell in my life;
nothing but hell.

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.

The fact that people so easily forget me is upsetting,
I would succumb to something if I knew well enough:
to toughen up behind a hug, to  summon up strength,
to go to whatever lengths just to permanently stain a page
with a name that becomes synonymous to my own.
Writing has become synonymous to the word hurting,
the diamond behind a curtain that droops over reality.
Writing has become synonymous to the word masking,
the casket that hides the real emotions we set aside to die.
Writing has become synonymous to the word invisible,
the minimal impact that makes miracles into nothing.
I will not be a part of the writing process if that is its course
I will force myself to open doors that may lead to nowhere
I will bare all of my soul for anyone interested to read,
I will bleed in between lines to make my mark in this art.

I will pave the path of being the next titanic that sinks,
I will be a titan that thinks before leaping in with bare fists
I will risk all I am for someone to read and hear my soul.
Just so I can be more than a page in a book that doesn't get thrown out,
I have grown out of my idealistic childhood days but I still play-
the part of those with a broken heart, the part of those who's art
speaks what their mouths can never say.
I know, one day I will be an indelible ink staining minds.

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?

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.

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.

I fell into the pool of you at full force,
unaware that the course carried currents
and the hardest part is I'm disheartened.
Your laughter gave me shine
and the fact that you're mine made me smile,
So bless the souls that intertwine with yours,
but behind closed doors- I know it's not mine.
I say goodbye to you as a martyr,
unafraid of the struggles I'll face
and unaware that you'll say it back so easily.
Once where you cared for me, it's dissipated,
the fates tested our waters and drowned us both.
There is more love today than yesterday,
but it's washed away alongside my goodbyes.
I love you- in the distance,
because the difference between you and I,
Is still a million miles.

She is the beacon that entrusts warmth onto me,
and I stand the pillar of whatever holds balance to her life.
I call my heavens and she responds with a simple smile,
but an eternal mile gives lesser comfort than her words.
I've heard the loose lies slip through those lips of hers one
too many times and I have won more than I have loss in this
fair trade of tragedy. She is a volcano waiting for the ash
and the lava to erupt and bury me.
I am just the wind that carries along the embers
of whatever we used to remember and everything else
we wished to forget.

She is, just one ...
            that I can't forget,
that I really wish I didn't,
and really wish I did.

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 can’t write like other poets,
each closest word I can think of,
is merely a cough in a dying body.
I wish I could write of reluctance,
of binding pungent chains tied to a life,
I wish I could write about pretty eyes
and the way they look like sapphires
tossed into a river.
I wish I was more of a poet than I claim to be,
I wish I could write with an aim to leave
behind a spectre of gleam and grim,
but I can’t.
All I know are broken hearts,
and writing this alone is ripping me apart,
because the roses that sat on the field,
is always sweetest when they’re the furthest.
The blue sky cuddles me inside it’s orb,
but I absorb enough light to know-
that no matter how much sunshine I receive,
you still won’t be able to see me.

Chaos is in my mind,
a blind light seems to ease
the darkness that creases the folds
of my brain.
The auburn chest of the sun,
a crimson dungeon that only
ever becomes unlocked by
emptiness.
This empty pit I drown in,
only becomes filled with bottles.
I can't go on knowing that each drip,
is just one temptation magnet
attracting on the next.
I am the one regret I have ever had.

Lonely is just synonymous with scared,
you are scared to be with someone
because once gone, that person is
more or less an end of a part of your life.
So you are not a lonely person,
you are scared and each curse of
that same word is rarely any different

I am afraid that the only place
I will meet you again
is deep within my dreams,
and I'm even more afraid
that when I finally get that chance
to meet you all over again,
you won't remember who I was.

There's a tightrope in my mind,
everyday I am afraid to fall
and most days I wished I had fallen
a couple of months ago.
I'm just tired of walking
and there's supposed to be
a sunrise to welcome my every step;
but I just can't find it.
I'm not crazy,
I'm just trying to hide away everything;
so if you meet me in person,
remember my smile
because I've spent years with it,
I have spent years with the same smile.
Cracked lines on my face,
this place isn't home and I just
keep on smiling-
till I can't.

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.

Say you'll see me again,
even if it's just in dreams,
fill me in for when you do,
because I'm missing you.

Say there's another time,
that we'll cross paths,
even if it's in darkness,
even if we're not partners.

Make my heart skip a beat,
because that's what it does-
So say you'll see me again,
even if you just want revenge.

I miss the girl who lit my world,
I miss you Megan, so much,
please say you'll see me again,
even if none of it makes sense.

Maybe this pain I'm feeling,
Is the healing realisation
I so desperately need to learn
because there is no love without loss.

The auburn sky hasn't been auburn for a while,
it bleeds denial that everything will be alright,
but at night the sky in its expanse, expands my mind,
for it is at night that I learnt to love the sky in its disguise,
its mysterious eyes looking over me, not just the pair,
but despair seems to vanish, banished by a million eyes,
all that shine and illuminate the gated paths of my life.

I believe people call them stars, those eyes that look down,
but I frown upon such simplistic labels of stars,
but those eyes that gaze on me from afar are more than just celestial bodies,
those eyes that gaze on me from afar are
the source of my light and more or less:
my guardian angels, guarding from the complete darkness of night.

The auburn sky hasn't been auburn for a while,
and with a smile I say 'frankly I don't care,
as long as the night shares the guardian angels with me'.

There's no inclination for you to feel anything for me,
but sadly truth is I'm struggling.
I've been tugging onto tissues hoping my tears
will stop waging war on my cheeks.
Did you know, I didn't sleep?
I haven't slept since I said goodbye,
ok maybe that's a lie- maybe an hour
here or there but enough for me to
hope to dream of you; but I don't,
it's ripping me up London girl,
I'm one step of a ledge I've never been on,
never knew it'll take this long
to jump, and I've never known it
to hurt this much.
I know you don't need to care,
but tonight and last night,
I've been dreaming of you ...
Back here....Back there...
Back to square one....with me.
Silly dreams, I know.
My medic is no where to be seen,
and I'm one day further from her.
My medic is no where to be seen,
and tonight I won't sleep again.

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.