In the realm of my existence, joy dances
like a flame, flickering with resilience and grace.

Through storms and clear skies alike,
its glow remains unwavering, casting light
upon my journey and kindling a fire within my spirit.

This steadfast joy acts as a compass,
leading me through life's twists and turns,
teaching me that happiness is not a destination,
but a way of being, shaped by my actions and outlook.

Black mirror tears; crying in the dark—
reflecting on things about life, throughout late nights,
Buried talk with an assortment of people nowadays;
enduring their dead conversations; also texts feeling so late.

Overbearing much— bearing on regrets that weigh heavy
on a heart; a heart only heavy by weights you choose to carry.

So, do you carry on carrying that weight; the baggage
of your eyes, carries around judgments as more court cases.

“Just in case, I need some old evidence to prove
my worth,” you say, just in case.

Afterwards cracking that mirror in the dark—how do you
really see yourself any better, if you keep hiding in the dark?

My energy; do be spared of positive & negative charges,
as my eyes are polarized, amid lost feelings and wisdom gained.
A polaroid picture; as the sight of it, had to develop its
own film strip, of all my past memories.

Every thought plays out so carelessly, like a child
running in a candy store; the sweetest notion of a touch,
a heart smitten by the rush of an unforeseeable crush,
— crushed & pressed.

Yet; by the similar fashion of the pressure a lover gets,
when addressing their feelings; my own words feel overdressed;
as the formal appearance of a necktie and blazer.
Doing my best to suit the petition of love; it seems the attire
should have been a bulletproof vest, to protect my naked chest.

Still I’m liken to finding my actions uniform;
as an acquired fit, that mustn’t take all love the same.
But rather be consistent, and conforming to these set standards:
trust, openness, communication, boundaries & compromises.

For there is no greater selfish love, than the one, where one
party receives the fullest love; choosing not to let go of some.

It could prove wise, to avoid such matters of the heart;
for the heart is made of matter; the universal mass to be in love,
and how you treat love, does indeed affect the volume of set heart.

Skinny-dipping thoughts; the barest
form to say their dressed words
Body shots that taste so vacant,
for those working ceaselessly on themselves.

And to those opposed to their opposite of love;
with hateful manners on glass table tops,
Brushing off former charms of love, swept
under the rug; while after all the wettest kisses;
heartbreak tastes so sour, while everything else
requires a couple of mops.

For I had slipped into its fall, hoping for the
spring of emotions, but I crushed my crown;
feeling royally *******.

Twisted to one side; and a jab of sighs, for
taking the time for somebody’s love sickness
—must have been its favourite patient.

A heart can be stolen; a heart swollen, — it could be a crime  to love; and a love to be much bigger than you can handle That twists at every idea of thought; words to say fittingly,  knocking at your heart’s door; blindly searching for that handle.  

Love is blind; to not see the RED FLAGS  in the daylight,  its wild too; a creature parading ecstasies at night —a bat in hindsight; while batting an eye at every swing  of love you make. Sometimes you hit, sometimes you miss,  and feel like you’ve made another mistake.
  
When two lovers meet; I’m reminded of their love  being a piece of steak,— it could be tender, the feelings  too raw, or too tough to chew on the other’s words Whenever they get under your skin; don’t speak a reply in vain.  

For love is joy, love is bliss, love is curiously strange,  love can be hate, and more so bring you great pain What would the world be, if love never existed in the first place?

A guise into your eyes, — knowing what you’re thinking,
In your silence; they must hear what your heart means;
For love at times, makes you feel so awkward,
A mirage of smiles, feeling foreign on a gritty beard.
Also love at times, feels like two kids in love,
With not much time to kid around.

While the eyes of your mirror,
Reflect just a small piece of another,
Time loves to dance around in your eyes;
As maturity starkly chases after you,
Before you place your first foot
On that familiar battleground.

It was beauty alone, putting a heart on lock
At odds; putting out all of their fires,
Still a piece of them enjoyed the spark.
And they must have worked up every thought,
Each one of them, thinking about you,
Still maybe I, enjoyed that too
— Of your presence’s work of art.

Yet,

It would remain best to appreciate you as a friend,
Then despise you later on as someone
I claimed to have once loved.

I took a glimpse at an angel— so beautiful;
I took a gaze without giving it breath,
I couldn’t recall her name.

And oh, what a shame it was,
Not knowing what to speak, of an outwardly presence,
I relentlessly chased after an old dream,
Hoping for a hint of conclusion— a foreign illusion.

For in spirit and in truth, —
I watched the skies crack open; splitting wildly
My sights, between a longing & desire.

Desire: the great betrayer to an eye,
When what you see, isn’t what you get to own.
Owing to her gaze; upon such a beautiful architect,
But some time later, it all built up another phased regret.

Angels that leave you out of breath,
Whether passing out on their lap,
Or passing idly, on Death.
    Beauty, is all so terrifying.