Roses on our bed;- final remarks
on it being an attractive grave;- as for us, being in
love is to be slaves, owned by chaotic emotions.
And under the blackness of your eyes— is a pain clear
as day; confess to yourself dear love; how you worshipped
forcefully laughing through your pain.

I had worshipped every tone of your laugh,
never knowing that it represented you feeling so
breathless, constantly down the wrong path- every day,
every minute you pretended to be okay- every hour I blindly
believed we were both okay.

Your presence right now;-
does truly matter, even if you feel for a moment,
all that you do doesn't seem to matter. With every
thread of your matter—the space you occupy-
is in its impactful reason, to matter.

///the sky is the limit;- don’t limit
your sights on how far you see yourself going;
a worthwhile could be hidden in a well kept
promise, as the curve lost in your smile, and
the sparkle in your eyes all captivate others
to keep on hoping.

Beneath the surface of everything that exists;-
I find myself one breath away from losing my sanity,
and not making another one, until I die. Continuously unsure if
I'll ever create something new before, my time is up;- living by
the inevitable ticking of time's clock.

I've been living on the outskirts, trapped within
the confines of my own mind, constructing dreams of the past
for those who still hold onto hope, hoping that what I do will
be cherished as something unique and irreplaceable, like a rare gem
amidst a sea of ordinary stones. But now, I find myself drowning in
a sea of thoughts, longing for a shore where I can find solace instead
of conforming to the world's constant demands with a forced "sure."

Sometimes, I feel like I exist beyond the boundaries
of this physical realm. I am dedicated to carrying the weight of
everything, as if it all rests solely on my shoulders. I commit myself
to helping others and loving those who have wronged me, without
any limitations.

Yet, I feel trapped by it all, still entangled within
the web of expectations. In the midst of it all, I must remember
that I have to go through this journey to understand why I am here.
I have tasted love, its sweetness fleeting and its bitterness lingering.
I feel somewhat used by this kind of love, but mostly, I am left feeling
confused;-  drained and perplexed, pondering the worth of
entwining myself in a web of a jealousy, masquerading as  
now being a mere companion. I have been betrayed by those
I loved the most, let down by my own family, as if they were
the last people, I expected to break my heart. Feeling the sharp
betrayal of a backstab is a crippling pain, but the anguish intensifies
when you see the perpetrator, carving that very scar.

I am amazed by the immense depth and breadth
of how a few months of disappointments can feel like a
year's worth of pain. I cannot possibly quantify the extent of
this excruciating experience, but I can count every tear shed along
the way. The first half of this year has presented an array of
challenges worthy of a lifetime.

Nevertheless, I remind myself that it is a journey,
that must be taken one day at a time, handling whatever
comes my way. It is difficult to always be happy, but I strive to
find moments that bring a smile to my face, conserving my energy
to heal from the tougher days instead of pretending that
everything is fine.

I'm less of a mathematician, but still counted
as a human who sometimes makes a bad decision.

As the eyes hunger for everything;- they also
betray me on a constant treason.

Misplacing most of my why's to sound a bit wise,
still that's no disguise;- to displaying true wisdom.

It is truly a strange irony;-
to ponder upon the behavior of a foolish dog,
daring enough to bite the hand that nourishes them,
Just as a bee daydreaming about stinging their queen.

Tell me what sort of dreamer,
would fairly detest even a fragment of a tranquil sleep,
As someone who yearns for the warmth of love and
affection, but hurriedly scorns its gentle embrace.

I do ponder the contradiction within,
a peacemaker who harbors an aversion to perfect silence;-
A baffling realization to witness, how swiftly one can
turn against the very source of provision and care,
—that which sustains them.

Yet we persistently turn our backs on our Creator...

These thoughts of you,
are like the smallest pebble to the grandest mountain,
everything holds a certain value, contributing to
the intricacies of this existence.

And there must have been
an unpleasant disturbance in my heart; as if a pebble
was thrown in my eye’s still waters- causing many ripples.

Oh, it’s perfectly strange;
not quickly recognizing your own tears
anymore;- some people do cry better in the rain.