It seems as though we are a mistake in history –
– the true mystery lies in deciphering its significance.

Yet, if I could unravel all your thoughts, would I still
find myself lacking? It feels as if we wake up late, only
to confront our troubles early on.

Pregnant ideas; we were all destined to create, yet –
we also give life to countless fears, concealing our tears
under the mat of our dreams.

You must have swallowed the key, striving to avoid
glancing back, but our present is merely a reflection of
our history.

And where we stand now marks the beginning of a
brighter future we yearn to seize.

What’s the tempo of your body,
Trying to catch it’s beat;
My heart is beating- skipping,
At least on this track;
I’m racing against myself,
At least while I’m on this path,

Searching for a much deeper way
To love you back
Yet, reminiscent of my past,
These fresh emotions
Pull me back to that which
I never really had –

Even if it seems our love could
Only last a fleeting moment,
My dear, I offer you my
Heartfelt thanks.

Cupid’s aim was off, he lost one of his arrows
in the wrong heart he shot; I'd had my fair share –
of these scars painted on my skin; all the best
intentions being lost, while adding value to someone
just to add up the cost of their love…

Cupid’s aim was off, he forgot to wear his glasses
while on the job; giving me extra weight thinking
about my past – all the pain left behind, we all need to
move forward, but I still want to kick Cupid right in
the ****!

Trying to find the pieces of tomorrow,
So we can build our future together-
Still if we landed on the footsteps
Of yesterday; I hope we don’t
Retrace most of them today.

And if you found yourself,
Would you still get lost with me;
Live a life to tantalize my veins;
On the hot asphalt of our dreams –

Racing for what you always long to say,
But you seem to bite down on
Your own words, biting to the point
Of bleeding, still your enthusiasm
Never subsides every time
You take my hand.

There’s a teeming love in this poem –
Burning beyond its own flame.
And truly death will be the only thing
To extinguish such an untamed flame.

Visions of death,
a love letter I wrote while dreaming about suicide-
She was in love with herself, and I loved her
to death; a slow cause to my own demise

Swimming empty pools; floating atop most of our dreams-
sinking away in that old familiar feeling of being so blue
I hear the ever-chasing sirens of the emergency factors
for all these years that go on and on and on…
I’m like an endless song; playing the tune of my heart-
till it sets away by the glum of missed hope by the dawn

I live my days to begin a new ending, for all of the regret
that comes in turns- running so far without any real direction;
to be at the destination I wasn’t expecting. Still joy surrounds
these hungry eyes; so let’s feast on more of the life we have
left to smile

As we are the children still haunted by most of our old dreams-
where the echoes of their tears become our present fears
To the people we look up to, who look to us below their feet-
they’ve underestimated how far we’re willing to believe in
those forgotten dreams. Drawing close to circles of all the things
that seem to repeat in a world that never stops spinning- yet where
we stamp our feet; are all the lessons I hope to leave behind
for my kids

I am the attire of addressing yourself in all your needs- the tradition
of struggles, and a sickening religion of pretending you’re okay for
all those not so okay to see; I am a faith mixed with a bit of doubt;
but I’d still be grateful to figure all these things out- would the
Heavens provide me a bit of help?