Cherished memories of us, on this old Spotify playlist;
my heart is overwhelmed with longing and lovesickness,
— a passion that seems to fall short in making me
any more patient.

I find myself completely consumed by that intoxicating
madness of an undesirable love; constantly lost into its
utmost and unforgiving potential;
...picturing me as your devoted psychopath, an
unyielding presence in the maze-like corridors of
a mind, and it's undetermined cycle path.
Ready to cycle back, and drown out a heart's love
in a cycle bath. Washing away your inner demon 's past;
while washing your back.

My heart is an eager match,  
striving to ignite a fiery blaze of affection,
and I caught your spark by your bright smile,
as I'd fight for this love when you and I are a match.

Then again...

I could have been crazy enough to imagine it all in my head.

She has her highs,
I have most of my blue
While all of my messages are read,
no matter what I say, I can barely see much
love out of my purple eye's hue.

Time is golden,
still I tend to **** most of it nowadays
While death is black; my envy is always
present of the green someone makes,
—maybe I'd **** to be famous one day.

My chest feels burdensome,
and too heavy for me to cough.
As I put an end to myself with scotch,
as nothing would sit well with me like a
darker brown spot on an already brown couch.

Blue, red, purple,
Gold, black, green,
Scotch and brown
—seems I'm all of these colours going around.

In the realm of my chamber, where the walls stand tall and proud, a crack resides, a testament to the passage of time. Each morn I awaken to its presence, my gaze instinctively drawn to its jagged lines, as if it holds a secret waiting to be unraveled. Curiosity blooms in my chest, like an ephemeral flower, its petals seeking to understand the start and end of this enigmatic fracture. Yet, despite my relentless pondering, its origin remains shrouded in ambiguity, evading the grasp of my eager mind.

Venturing beyond the boundaries of my chamber, I traverse the intricate labyrinth of rooms that exist in this grand tapestry of my abode. And lo and behold, that very crack that has captivated my attention seems to follow me, lurking in the hidden corners and unassuming intersections. Its presence, though subtle, is undeniable, an unspoken confidant whispering ancient stories and untold secrets. Returning to the sanctuary of my own haven, I find the crack more defined than ever, etched into the walls like a mark of permanence. Unyielding, unchanging, it stands as a constant reminder of its presence within the depths of my consciousness.

Oh, how I've longed to mend it, to bridge the gaping divide and restore harmony to the once-seamless surface. I've tirelessly searched for the perfect mortar and the right tools, but alas, it persists, taunting me like a mischievous specter, forever out of reach. This crack, with its resilient nature, seems to possess a life of its own, defying all attempts at erasure. It has become a fixture of my sight, a permanent resident in my waking hours and a steadfast companion throughout the moments between dusk and dawn.

But, dear listener, let me share with you a truth that lies dormant within the depths of my soul, hidden beneath the dusty layers of reality. This crack, you see, is not what it appears to be. It exists not in the physical walls that surround me, but within the intangible realm of dreams. It is a fracture of thoughts, a crevice in my mind that transcends the confines of the tangible world. This crack, oh, how much it speaks of the human experience, the complexities and contradictions that shape our very essence. It is the crack that embodies the intangibility of our emotions, the fractures that define our individual journeys.

So, as I gaze upon this crack, ever-present and unwavering, I find solace in its inexplicable existence.

Today I woke up feeling quite fulfilled today
...haha, yeah right.
But let's pretend I was a glass of water in the eyes of an optimistic,— I'd be half full, right?
Still if I ever said that enough times in this negative world, they'd all say I'm always so full of myself, right?

I wish time was as easy as skipping rocks over a pond.
It would be wonderful if, with a skip, I could
effortlessly transport myself to the other side
of that looming idea, finding the promise of the
future waiting for me there.

As I take each step, I envision them as stepping stones,
guiding me towards my goals and ambitions,
hoping I won't encounter another heartbreaking
moment that brings tears to my eyes.

The serene green scenery that surrounds
me serves as a reminder that my soul is still
burdened with the stains of past mistakes.
Yet, despite the passing of time, I find myself
at a loss for words, unable to utter another
empty prayer while feeling a lump in my throat,
like a frog is trapped within.

The missed chances,— you and I are the same,
still like misplaced socks, I haven't found
my match. Equal the amount of the days
I start to swallow novacane
I'll still pick up the roses that turn into diamonds,
demanding the worth of a beautiful love.
Betting on the odds with every card on the table,
my eyes feel ****** for loving you, while their
tears are blocked like the Kariba Dam.

There's no truth to recognise, with two lovers
completely blind
Landlocked, never to drown away enough in
our own emotions, with nothing much to sea.
Would you believe me or not,— depends on our
bad religions, putting faith in the words we hardly heard.
"I love you my son, I love you my daughter,
   I love you my sister  I love you my brother"

Every thought of love is televised, and we've been
ill-advised. Our daughters and sons shouldn't learn
from us,— from boys who write about *** and love
And girls who read into them, and give away the
innocence in between their thighs.

       The truth with ourselves is absolute...

The night's blowouts — Are like my last candle before the night is gone. It's a comforting ritual, lighting that candle and reveling in the flickering flame... The soft glow illuminates the room, casting a gentle light on the shadows that gather. It's in these moments, in the solitude, that I find solace. I cherish the tranquility as it offers me an opportunity to reflect and escape the chaos of the world. The candle's warm glow creates a haven, —a sanctuary where I can truly be myself.

And while I don't mind being alone, there is an undeniable
pull to the memories we shared: They wrap around my mind like vines, intertwining with my thoughts and emotions.
Looking in the mirror, I see my reflection intertwined with
the shadow of your memory.
It's as if we're dancing together, across time and space,
moving in harmony with the music of our past. The melody of our shared experiences plays softly in the background, a bittersweet tune that still resonates deep within my heart.
The dance we shared was a masterpiece—,_ filled with
passion, laughter, and tears. Even though the song has
ended, its melody lingers, etching its mark on my soul.

Still like the past, the memories in it comes to pass, allowing us to grow and evolve. They are like stepping stones, guiding us towards a future where new memories are waiting to be created.
Even if I have to create a new life without you...