Growing up
I was taught that hate is such a big word
I was taught that I only hated the devil
That I only hated what kills me
That I hated what harms everyone
That I only “disliked” things
That it is not hate that I feel all the time.
Until I turned 16..
When I looked at myself in the mirror
And decided that hate.. is not a big word
That the anger and sorrow inside me
Is not sadness
The anger and sorrow inside me
Transformed me into a person
That love disowns.
I learned that the rage burning within me
Killed the soul I once had
And replaced it by the demonic thoughts that
I thought I hated.
I understood that the regret I had
Killed every cell in me and nothing-
Nothing in this universe could ever get them back.
I realized that hate was not something taught
it was something you develop
it is something that slowly takes over you
engulfs you until you find no justification
except in it’s corners.
I learned that slowly I became the devil
I once hated.
I became the person my mother
asked me to stay away from
because the hate inside me
hurt no one
except my own dying soul.
I realized that the rage, the sorrow, the betrayal
Transformed the love I once had
Into a never ending lump of darkness and hate.

Since I’ve met you

most of my poems were about nature;

how the birds sing

how the flowers bloom

Lately though

The birds don’t sing anymore

making nature a cage

surrounding my heart

crushing and letting it fall

like the shooting star that fell

the night I wished for you.

Lately I’ve been finding myself

stuck in a silent storm

(Not sure whether it was silent

because I couldn't yell

or whether it was silent

because I couldn't hear)

but I’m sure it was as silent

as the silence that developed between us.

I still find myself drowning

in the waves of that storm.

Every time the birds hummed your name

It rang in my ear like the sound of a bullet

leaving a hole as hallow as our past

but I don’t bleed

instead, my scars sing to the

closeness of your name

because they miss your touch..

They miss you…

And a bullet that rings

like your name

is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen.

-L.A.M

They start from nothing

A touch of a hand

A faint smile

Those thoughts trap you

in illusions

you have no right to be imagining

You’re stuck in a void

where the sound of their voice

is the only thing that makes sense

and the rhyme of their words

are the only comfort you’ll ever get.

You turn around

and look back at yourself

and question every intention

every thought

how and when and why

and up thinking about things

that could rip you apart.

I don’t know if it’s those thoughts

of self hate and disgust

Or the poison of hate you fed me every night

it’s the delusion you put in my head

a living happiness I am not living

A sadness so apparent

Hurt that won’t leave

A recession so painful

So familiar…..

Yet so **** comforting.

~ L.A.M