You were once my everything – everywhere. A whisper of a voice,
now a ghost in the air; you reigned supreme over my thoughts, –
my mind was your throne, your beauty an heir. I leaped into the
depths of your heart, clad in a jumpsuit, forsaking the safety of a parachute – and thus, I plummeted into your love from the moment
we first crush. I was but a mere pebble next to your rock, dwarfed by
your strength; shattered by your stability, reduced to mere dust.

My skin, now tarnished like rust – the remnants of my words
mingling with the oxygen I struggled to breathe, left gasping in your
breath-taking presence. Tears welled in my eyes, mourning the loss
of you, while the iron resolve it took to finally move on felt like an
eternity… from a love that must have been so rushed?

And yet, I still cling to hope;

You were once my everything – everywhere. But now I find my
heart adrift, lost in this wind to nowhere.

In blades of grass—so young under the tears of sky.
Shattered, fragile in a forest made of glass.

Under a moon's walking due; as the sphere of Sun's pass.
I throw my heart's mass into the winds whisper—guided
in the voice of above compass.

I shall unmask beauty pinned in the skies, painted in the
natural scent of Earth. I yearn as the birds; singing a pleasing
song of day's first. The last sweet symphony till the earth is
no more. Before the Collapse.

Let me die singing to thy Lord,
in the following song of Heaven's chords.

Freedom at no cost,
an escape not held by price.
A slave to this harsh living,
every breath like chains shaking.

Freedom from negative emotions,
the many that keep me down.
Self known for battling depression,
freedom I fight for, (to be alive again).

Freedom from many pains,
heartbreaks, disappointments, many regrets.
Many things keep me captive,
none of which should control me.
Why then do I call them my master?

Freedom I must obtain,
from a forced burden as a slave.
My will, (willing to be brave),
The sweet taste of freedom I'll have one day.

There’s a spark between your lips, and it lights mine
when we kiss— we’re a match: fighting against all
the ways we’ve tried to smother what we feel.
As the sun cuts through me, kissing my skin in
gold— but my tears taste like wine, and my hopes
lounge in the soft armchairs of dreams.

Now, I hate the silence when I’m left with myself—
scrolling through ghosts in my phone, each message
once charging me like a battery cell.

Now it’s just me, trapped in a cold heart's prison cell,
echoing for company, thinking of the days I was once
drowning  in a well. But all there’s left to say is a bitter,
shrugged,

                “Oh well.”

Three things I can’t live without…

Coffee, Creativity & Church

For coffee fuels my creativity;
My creativity comes from my worth –
A worth I only learnt of, going to church.

Your fiery surface burns
at the taste of my tongue.
I've tasted love,
making feast of who you are.

Starved of your love,
far too long. The longing hurts.
Bent out of shape,
these days missing your curves.

I crawl at your love,
far before I learn to walk.
I felt your claws dig into me,
far enough for the pain to pour.  

Longing now for more.

Whether it be longing or lust,
my body turns to ashes.
As for my heart,
goes along in the wind as dust.

Harsh are these words, but what great Truth doesn’t hurt a little:
the promises of people today, will only be the hurt for you tomorrow,
the debt that people owe you, is often paid by the words of a forgotten
promise; even for all the love you hope to give out- its only by
a wishful wish, that you’ll get your fare share back,

There’s a note to take of the friends that will let down you,
those family members who will discard you, all the people who
will critic you, the love of past lovers that will break you, the words
that make you a victim, said from those who want to play bigger victims;
the good you so desperately try to do, to get so much bad in return,

To those you put all of your trust in, some can be trusted to
hurt and wound you, the sun will be your spotlight on top your fears,
the moon will cry with you in silence, the bath water will account for
all your tears, the snakes will sing you praises with a jagged smile,
life will chastise you; hope will forget you sometimes, time will question
you each day, age will starve you of youth, the living will grow intolerant
during your time of mourning, as death will forever remain patient for you…

                                                          These are but just life’s great Truths.

the sweet scent of flowers
grazes the finely thinned hairs of a lover
while a butterfly flits in their stomach ready
to tie that uncomfortable knot…

                               she has fallen in love.

Now...

I can't sleep; because of it.
I can't wake up happy; because of it.
I can't breathe; because of it.
I can't move; because of it.
I can't eat; because of it.
I can't live; because of it.
I can't make new friends; because of it.
I can't be alone; because of it.
I can't deal with large crowds; because of it.
I can't be me; because of it,
But I'm not defined as a person; because of it.

I'm not worthless; because of it.
I'm not weak; because of it.
I'm not a fool; because of it.
I'm not an outcast; because of it.
I'm not less of a dreamer; because of it.
I'm not the only one suffering; because of it.
My life's struggles may be the cause of it,
But I'll do so many things because of it.

I'll choose to push on; because of it.
I'll choose to smile; because of it.
I'll cry at night sometimes; because of it.
I'll constantly be inspired; because of it.
I'll craft masterpieces; because of it.
I'll comfort others in the same boat; because of it.
I'll continue to be the advocate for change; because of it.

And my depression is the cause of many things;
all the good, bad and moderate.

As all you see of me; is because of it.

To witness the entire world bathed in a single hue—  
I must have been battling for ages, confined to the realm
of purple through these battered, violet eyes. Yet, I found
myself dreaming—gently; amidst a sea of blossoms that
blanket the earth, soft carpets for my tender feet; the
fragrant embrace of lavender.  

So intoxicating was the scent that the deeper I ventured,  
the more it constricted my throat, stifled by the words  
I longed to voice. I wander through lavender dreams—
bewildered and lost; forever searching for a tangible end to
this reverie.  I leap, I tumble, I labour, and I cry out—  
carefully navigating the edges of reality, only to become
ensnared in a daydream.

But aren’t the lavenders as enchanting as her gaze; a girl I
yearned to love, though our time together was fleeting.

We never shared that vision of a wedding day adorned  
with lavender blooms, yet still, I hold onto the dream  
where I walk in dreams of lavender.

Acrimonious ******; oh, to such a wanted piece of thought, falling carelessly as a leaf blown in a sceptical kind of winds, and with their goal of rattling me. The present fortunes present themselves as a mystery unsolved, the many spasms in a day, constricted by the extravagance of wanting to be heard; but the audience is so uninvolved

As I sometimes misplace my identity in my own words- as when I misplace worries into the formula of my concerns. The lessor faith in words, frames on the highest platform; in the endless echoes of a writer’s afterlife- where their once idolized muses, are blessed enough to be seen as something appreciated as gods- a Poetic pantheon

Creativity is like two gloved hands, that choke out the reader’s eyes,
suffocating them to see new found knowledge, in the loss of consciousness. As the stage is set; upon the tears of the world, being the opening curtains to such an encore performance; an audience made up of eyes hungry for more. The author’s responsibility to provide to them all,
a due course of sustainable food for thought. As the world feeds the writer the vilest of things, to in turn create something ameliorates in place of it.

rental cars – parked away ideals across the street; had a bite of the
sweetest dream, but must have chipped a few teeth. backwash waters;
just a taste of love – most of it stayed in the bottle, still I enjoyed that
little sip.

rental cars – parked a little too close to the darkness, under a
billboard sign that gave directions to the light. by day I’m all that the
world’s eyes believe of me; the genius of one’s destiny only revealed
by prayers late at night. but maybe I’m preying more than praying –
believing in all the wrong, hoping to come up with something right.

rental cars – sometimes I feel like I’m on this journey of life with so
many borrowed things, paid for dreams, passenger fears – sticky
gears, imbalanced wheels, a rusty engine, and an unfair lease
agreement, that I pray will expire long before the next few years.

Act as if I'm not moved by movies,
how'd that play out if it's not seen
Flip away the motion,
picture me stuck in a box of a T.V screen.

Why I speak like this,
is a person who often lives remote.
Losing control
as I try to channel every emotion.
People live to have no Parental Guidance,
all live their lives watching in due caution.

We've rated ourselves explicit,
our actions can be offensive content
The biggest of man profits from
the suffering of others.
The world is like one filled with many vultures.

The stage is set,
love in this picture shouldn't be misplaced.
Lights, camera, action!
Give your all of true love,
until none is left.
Life didn't come with scripted lines,
we can't always imitate all that we've read.

BUT,

We all have a role to play,
do be weary of the size
No matter the camera time,
play your role well to the fullest.
At the end of life,
hold high that Academy Award prize.

When all is said and done,
you'll be known as part of a "great people"
Live this one life well, there's no sequel.
When all is said and done,
you'll know, "That's a wrap people"

The first crushes we had,
later on life broke our hearts.
Not like we'd ever get that far,
but the furthest we ever get to
is baring these scars.

"My nice guy",
often too nice to get the girl.
Watching the bad boy steal her soul, really works the nerves.
We were the ones to know what she really deserves,
but the picture of that never occurs.

So we gave up on chasing girls we couldn't afford,
spending most of our time on other goals.
Shooting shots once in awhile,
not for anything much. Just to give a girl a smile.
Writing love letters, and buying chocolate for Valentine's.
"Would you be mine for the occasion?
Oh you have a boyfriend. Well then never mind."
I don't see what you see in him,
while he's too focused on the features outside.

Try my luck with another girl,
so quick to be curved.
She bent me out of shape,
I set my emotions aside for you, put my heart on reserved.

Learning from past experiences,
watching bad boys get the girls.
"You can't be serious!?"
Quite obvious he'd play your heart, but you seemed so delirious.
None of my business, I already lost interest.
No profit I found, just some empty pieces.

But I'm still the "Nice Guy",
been the Mr himself for quite a while.
Thinking I suffer from late denial.
Casing the situation. But I already lost that trial.
Knowing you'll cry so quickly on my shoulder,
and I'll be so dumb to smile.

Afterwards tell me you wish you could meet a guy like me.
Pretty sure I'm the one to be,
but with all those tears, it must be hard to see.
You'll walk off like you and I could never be,
acting if I wouldn't make the best of company.

Shoot me down by calling me a brother.
Fine I guess, when you're a hot mess.
My mistake was being good friends with your mother.
You'll go to find somebody else.
Oh well! I bet it won't work out as well.

"Mr Nice Guy", just nurses the wounds.
Goes misunderstood, but still keeps a smile.
What more can he do?

A tale of Mr Nice Guy.

A voice levy—to impose a fee on speaking freely.
My breath is so heavy, as my bones take on another
burden. Searching in the confines of a world not letting
me be.

A Christian that has been castrated; as you'd assume
I never had the testies to speak my father's truths.
The world has test me plenty times as a youth, before
my ***** even dropped. This part may penetrate some
sensitive hearts, so let me stop.

Perhaps you'd call me being too religious.
My religion isn't based on a bound by monastic vows.
Tis of relationship I have with my God. Filled with His
holy spirit, after being saved by His son's loving grace.
But alas you'd still call me being too religious either way.

But that's okay—I'll turn the other cheek.
Do it as many times as like in rinse and repeat. I can follow
those lessons of the Bible, but please don't hit me with,
"well aren't you a Christian," when I'm at my lowest.
I'm a Christian, but human too. I'm also going through it too.
Do I still seem being too religious to you?

Perhaps I'm being too religious to speak any real truth.
You'd call me selfish, if I said I don't speak truth for
me or you. I speak truth for my creator, but saying that
would create tension. When I speak of repentance to a sinner,
a part of me expects aggression. But I see that you're empty,
and hope to lead you into being filled by the Lord. But I'd seem
to full of myself, and a fool to try and save a sinner. At fault for
being a Christian, as you'd love to say, being too religious.

I guess I'll always be too religious.

Even a flat girl can say things with her chest,
Any man can say a lot – but have their heart
Broken in a sec; a lot of us think about ***,
Before identifying your worth in the right
Headspace...

To catch a floating dream with a sky hook,
Picking the empty book, with the cover that had
Good looks – don’t read that line about a story;

But just the story of your life, where you dated
A few ugly hearted dudes; maybe I should apologize
For all the Apollos with the good hooks

“Plenty fish in the see,”
But one bad fisher, spoils the catch of another,
He catches, just to toss away – on two different
Boats, distances away; but hey,

“All fishermen are just the same”

I heard the darkness was freeing – for in it you cannot see your
mistakes; and would I be wrong to assume that’s where *******
children are made?

I heard the darkness was freeing – that even if you looked at your
ugly reflection, that part of yourself would always seem so far
away…

       The dark, can be uncomfortable – sometimes; but also warming
   in your worst times – all you can do is withstand the slow erosion
of your happier memories; the darkness has seen me bare; it has
cradled my tears, and for a fleeting moment, it made me feel loved,
only to turn its back and betray.

I heard the darkness was freeing – for when you felt like nothing,
you could be a peaceful nothing in this endless nothing place

I heard the darkness was freeing – it grants me a semblance of
acceptance, allowing me to revel in the very things that bring me
shame – oh, how I ought to flee from this place, yet it soothes the
burdens of the day.

On these eve; child born of ******' womb,
A light of birth, to death and risen from tomb.

Shepherds behold, of the angels of their night,
Wise men behold, of a guiding star' light.

Behold child of glory, resting in babe' bed,
In straws he shall lay, of king' crown on head.

Behold the son of man where he lay,
The Lord Jesus was born today.

A man without a purpose,
perceives himself as a failure,
even in the gaze of those who don't see him.

His thoughts spiral, envisioning the
hope of light at the end of the tunnel,
only as a receding spark, like a distant star,
as he plunges deeper into a hole.

These are his thoughts when he’s alone –
this is NOT a poem!

Heaven always too high,
down on earth acting
like I got seven lives.
I don't really fear death less I
see death in the sky.

That's the forecast of the season
hoping we make out this spring,
We're all out here hoping and believing,
We see the better light of the sun
hoping this season isn't so dim.
Counting the stars in the sky,
for the ones we betting our dreams on.
Don't we always love to act so ply,
bent over ourselves by our demons
And where they come from,
like the places we try to hide.

Let's all gather around
in this upside-down world,
What you see is only a flipped idea,
how isn't that profound?  
Far below us, an intellectual arrangement to the fold.

Seems we're all bending the
rules of life,
A risk we seem to be taking,
forgetting the consequences once in the afterlife.

I'm just spit balling here,
so cover your face
I'm not running away from life,
just out for the chase,
Tell me if there's any of you like that
out there?

Aim for my heart, calling Heaven above; an angel has
left me to tears, down on my knees- racing across a
bridge reaching out to my heart. My eyes have been thrown
into a sea, deep down until I drown, in the depth
of her passion- it’s her world in my eyes I see

As she touched the most sensitive part of me, this nuptial
union; we are only human, seeking to multiple- there’s
always that desire of creation in both our eyes. We’re now
together— alone at last; to reproduce our life’s kind,
and putting ease to restless minds

Her kiss of oxygen turns into flames- I turn off the lights,
and still see her body glow; skins smooth as silk- free
from these robes, to a sight of her that soothes my tongue
And with a coy smile, we’ll rekindle the fire of our body’s
fireplace once again, tonight

I've searched for many things,
many of which I've tried to hold.
My vigor was strong,
a diligent miner seeking for precious gold.

But I hadn't found enough.

Within range of my human labor and skill,
I did my all to attain wisdom.
Climbed the highest of mountains,
all of which weren't high enough.
The highest peak only comes by
revelation from God.

All these human efforts weren't enough.

I met with wisdom,
soon after meeting with God.
Things that perplex me,
do not perplex Him.
Mysteries that surround me,
are no mystery to Him.

I was in awe. In awe more than enough.

He authors true wisdom,
so effortlessly, like a work of art.
All revealed to me
by the knowledge of the mind of God.

All that felt more than enough.

God. Endlessly rich with
wisdom at his disposal.
Wisdom and power through the
design of the natural world.
True wisdom comes from God,
by being in right relation with Him

(The fear of the Lord)

A key to Wisdom,
all that was unlocked was when
I was in relationship with God.

I truly now know the Source of Wisdom.

Cover upon the covering,
under the canopy of the Lord, let my lips
speak words honouring.
Faithful and true, and his mass—I am secure.

I've tasted a love so pure—honey dripping,
and anointed in oil. My centre is Jesus, in every
facing turmoil.

There isn't a battle I'll face alone.
No weapon of the enemy shall come to pass,
even the daggers formed to persecute me of my past.

I trust the all of my Lord; in every word,
the motion of destiny written by his hand.
Despite the broken promises of man, not everything
I see is said to last. But the eternal of my God isn't set in a
time of fragile glass.

And even at my brokenness, he will work in me;
as He has strengthen me over thoughts of worthlessness.

I thank the working of the Lord!

We look to the sky,
wishing to touch a piece of the sun.
Has the sun not touched us?
God like the Sun is always there,
even in the darkness.

The rays we feel,
his unconditional love for us.

You are loved no matter,
who you are, where you are.
And in whatever situation you're going through.

God is great, and greatly loves us.

In the grand spell of words, let me etch this sentiment into your heart –
I find myself so tired, like a Toyota limping along with a missing hubcap.
My carpet smile, never held the weight it should have; you revelled in
The tickle of my beard as our lips met. Yet, as soon as we grew distant,
I shaved it away, a symbol of our fading connection, a relic of this
Relationship becoming one of long distance.

Typing my feelings onto the screen, though the true message of them
Weren’t delivered so well, failing to convey the depth of my despair.
I began to loathe myself, believing that the love I once held for you
Was a tether, leading you on to lead you astray. “I’m sorry,” I whisper,
But deep down, I always knew you were destined for someone far
Greater than I could ever be, or at the very least, someone who would
See you as the answer to their most fervent prayers.

I guess you weren't the answer to my prayers...

__

In the vast abyss of emptiness, as nothingness
reigns supreme, there lies a flicker of value,
a glimmer of hope.

Within our power to decide what treasures
we shall pour into the hole of our hearts,
the means to mend the fractures of
our souls – to be whole.

my girlfriend would wear baggy jeans – being my solitude, as a
faithful lover. it’s just the darkness she has in her genes. sometimes
I cut her fingernails, to stop her from biting them – she starts to bite
me instead. my sad stories are all reflected in her tears; she tried to
cut my hair, and cut right deep into my thoughts – I’m always
thinking out loud.

she sits on my lap, just to have a window seat; her hair is like a
forest, that the comb loses it’s teeth. still my fingers run through
the woods; dark as a night, where my eyes become her moon.

and she’s the wettest dream – a real sensual thing; being like a
water Queen. she knows I can't water down my words, or kiss her
less without our spit. “kiss me before we go” – even if we’re just
going to the corner store.

but that’s just the thing; I’m in the market for finding hope in
my dreams – for this person only exists in my dreams. sigh!

Got ****, got ****, can't  be taking pictures with legends.
**** right, that girl's legs
were out in public with all those curls and those  edges.

Who the hell being trying to cut me down for last coming week,
****, who's probably on my next hit list, trying to waste my energy. **** right I was feeling so weak.
But who's next, I never really got too tired of this,
****, I never shot so high in the air just to go miss.

And ain't life fair when I'm claiming myself to be a nobody else.
****, I only touched that forbidden Candy once, now my *** is getting beat by two thousand belts.

How everybody told me greatest was a long trip, can't I just change the route.
Don't really be the formal type, but I had to play the role and force myself to suit.

****, ****, ****, **** right.

the start of the conversation, and you're yelling,
"where has your *** been,"

  he gives you headaches, you're
                addicted to aspirins.

but really what you're asking him,
is whether he was out with the boys relaxing —

he always says, "no, I was just running late"

you tell him straight,
"listen here boy, please stop feeding
me more lies,
              I'm fasting"

| Your body at first a stranger to my foreign kisses
   Learning how to speak another language in French kisses
  Ice cream painted lips of cherry lipstick, for licking kisses
I've inhaled your passion many a times in breath kisses
   And catching all stomach butterflies of butterfly kisses

Turn the lights a little low- you'll have a morning glow,
  from the bathroom, on the sofa, and the carpet floor
Rubber bands in my hand, trying to stretch you out; I had
     a lot to say, but the words got lost in your mouth
Hold my supplies, and grind on my belt—point the places
I never felt. Watching shivers of ice on your back slowly melt

| Your eyes running like bath water
   Want to dive deep in your thoughts like pool water
   Trying to train myself to breathe under water
      Pocket full of love- can't you see like sea water
Trying to quench my thirst like you're a glass of water
      And I hope you drown me in that body water

Singing a chorus of that body's natural tone,
about to overload, over the low areas sending tingles
  to already curling toes. I smelt the readiness of your body
   with the drips of scent stuck on my nose. Open to close
  the deal- peeling slowly your heavy clothes
      Entwining both of our ready and longing souls

|  Velvet skin-smooth and teasing to every bite
      Sensations running under skin in a sensitive bite
     Marking all the places I own with a territorial love bite
      And what's the point of a bark without a harsher bite

     Be at your best, stay at your best, I'd say it with my chest
        at your breast; you obviously guest that we'd lay in
     Our little love nest. Going down your West, and making
         the best effort- leaving nothing less, just to impress

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 ****!

I am the Clay, moulded from the tiny grains
Like a farmer of stars, tending to life's plains
My mission is to nurture, to heal every soul
The embrace of my essence; find your whole
  
I flow through existence, a canvas for flight
I lift you to heights, into the boundless light
With each gentle fall, I’ll breathe a life anew,  
From the depths of my spirit, I offer to you

I’ll give of myself, so your spirit won't wane  
Dwell in my heart, find solace from my pain

Baptized in water, to wash afresh life
They flipped a quarter to pay a wreck their stripes
Too many strikes in the lines; I've done ill twice
To prove a lesson I never seem to learn
And by the next turn on an unfamiliar road
As where the water drips off the bottom sink—filled in dirt
I'll over think a wish that employers pay my worth

Baptized in fire, of all those miscreants I'd like to burn
Setting flame to burning evil intent of worldly incense
As the idea of a heaven paradise, is the only call to repent
To accept the mess you made—no sense or point to be afraid
Tip the finger despite the good intent, but a ******* in prayer
Nowadays sinners aren't ashamed, to gain success out of his name
Heathen, Atheist, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist; all the same
Living the most lively of lives, but we'll all die in the end

Baptized in Earth, saying goodbye to befores, family and friends
It's the spoil of soil that buries my dreams with a fresh rose
She smells of intentions, but I cannot smell good with a ****** nose
Ironically all things are red, that of which we've read
To share with the young, or not really care—we all die in the end
Caught in this life's trap of the pleasure's unfair; a bear in a snare
To rob you bare, with tears and a ripped bandage that you tear
The ones you love aren't always there—in moment's phone call away
Ring, ring, beep, beep, sing, sing, sip, sip; sorry I'm drinking today
You're just throwing those hopes in the air, feeling down by gravity

Baptized in winds, swinging carelessly in hopeful imaginings
That you're the one to be the golden egg of your family
An idea I had once till it cracked, so I sit back relax and laugh
Mask my pains with a grin and jokingly demeanor to always pass
Speaking smooth joy out of a tongue of jazz, and jazz hands
Fingers splayed to play in quotation marks of having a good day
And the line phrase of always saying, "yeah I'm definitely okay"

All in these elements—restless, pretend excellence, dreadfulness
In the endlessness of subtle pettiness, of my helplessness
As of my gentleness elegance, in being my life as the evidence
I've been baptized fully by the full of all these elements

Yours: were those repetitions of actions; underneath the comment of
her starry eyes, waiting to add an explanation of my place as her caption.
We both explore the aftereffects of years of catching onto one another—as the successful hunt shows pleasant results; while the longer course of it comes with many love scars… but along the way, I heard the spinning tales of your story by the roundabouts. All the places you had been, shouldn’t have been, and a lot of questions about your whereabouts. Whereas the hoodlums turf their side from the thugs, and I make a territory between us, to avoid long hugs- a criminal kind of love

We both know the boys who keep a contact list of girls to pick out from, as like commodities well kept: she knows a message well sent, as the night gives the best of time for us to act like our true selves

Let’s not jump into so many conclusions as if leaping into big decisions; as our memories are well kept in sky, but at times we seem confined by these crying ceilings. For a worthwhile love, we live to find a means of making a quick buck, copying that success and sitting back while the currency prints- there’s nothing wrong with such money-making schemes; unless it gives others the idea of buying into dreams. And unfortunately, we both quietly know what that means



Sort of met by carnivorous eyes- feeding desires
into one another; a few lives cut short to the unsettling sound
by an incomplete strung of a chord. Rebellious young ones
sneaking out to the clubs, later on tamed at home; there’s
such a thirst for our wrongs when we’re perfectly alone—
but as you miss someone as much as a faithful faster
misses lunch, even a clone of them wouldn’t do you much…

Breakups do cause ill actions; “you said you’re not sick
of me,” but I subtly taste a bit of ***** in these latter kisses
—let’s talk to unlock our deepest feelings; dialogue is
key. The end of her blush is the brightest of spots, but is
a sign to end a conversation with an abrupt full stop
“Fool, stop,” her forced smile must annoyingly be saying

Those face masquerades must be working hard today;
without sounds of cries- pretending we enjoy telling
each other, “yeah, we’re fine,” or was it the rephrasing of it,
to admit to ourselves that this love has always felt like a fine

A tune playing on and on in my head, reminds me of you,
just going to let it play on and on till I do not know what to do.
Going to let my heart take me far away without leaving my mind,
Just to be close to you once more and love a woman so kind.

A woman like no other that every man wishes he had,
The woman I would leave it all behind and never feel so sad.
And I will admit that you tease my heart but I still love this feeling,
just don't let my words go to waste, please baby, don't leave me pleading.

Pleading to have you now, I can no longer wait,
My heart is aching just to be the one you love and a love we call fate.
And excuse me for being the man you see so needy
but I must admit that I love you so much,
And your no lover as such.

A lover like no other because they all act the same,
All trying to win the major love game.
And I've been playing for far too long,
but I'm getting close to my end,
Because this love has become more than a friend.

Bones into the many ashes
dust in amongst the surface
The tithes of time; in service
of the hands running on the clock
Church bell hyms to the mountain
tops of heavens close to the hills
Oh Churchill- searching in my eyes of a servant; serving a King

                  ...I rise in bravery on this hill

Beautiful ugly reflection –
slipping into the depths of your heartbreak;
Do you still tally your breaths – gasping for air!
At times, we drift so far from the warmth of home,
a cosmic wonder; yet the cosmos cradles the remnants
of extinguished stars.

Would you light a cigarette – to mask the fierce truths
of your spirit; those weary hands still possess a gentle
caress.

A handshake fraught with shaky bonds – bond to your
insecurities; anchoring you in a realm of perpetual self-doubt.

                   You are worth infinitely more, my mirrored self.

A date out with the stars
my romance is a bit outdated
leisurely play, too relaxed to find love
Soundly calm moon whispers
tickle the ears of someone feeling blue
a sea of ten thousand tears over you

I've cried, and cried, weeping the whipping
of lashing out feelings. Not many take me serious,
not being a lover's hero

                ....for you, I am your pain's anti-villain

silent suffering, voices in this room
ai-generated. please, algorithm,
feed me tears to cure this suffering.
silence stuck in my throat— i can’t
scream long enough, to become
the silent man in the silent crowd.
wiping my face feels like nosebleeds
but dismissed as nothing. an empty box
stuffed with matter, atoms and pieces
building me up only to crush me down.
what really matters in this silent suffering?

_

Do our lips & fingertips ignite
the searing heat of our kisses—
like glowing embers of a dying fire?

Your tender whispers linger,
a constant flame that consumes me.
Every passing moment, the chasm between us widens…

The fire of longing blazes within me in your absence,
it blazes even more fiercely when you are near.

(A) bit of words I live by.

(B) aware of what you (C)
Nowadays you're so close to meeting a trage(D)

Don't waste too much of your good energy. And don't let that gauge get to (E)
Give more (F)fort to those you love. But don't
go around donating what's in your (G)eans.

Wisdom isn't determined by your (H)
(I) learnt that recently.

Many will self title you from the front like a (J)-card. But it's o(K).
We look at them like, "oh wel(L)"

(M)any  are slave to their mistakes,
meaning we're our own worst (N)emy.

(O)ways know where you came from,
before you head out into the world. Everyone has their o(P)inions. Not every one will be for you, still at least say thank (Q)

(R) we not people of great value? Ye(S)
We seem to have come from nothing, but given time we're all some(T)in.

(U) know who you are. (V)ision yourself a better person by each day. Don't live with  (W) standards.

(X)periences, make us who we are.  (Y) worry about the past, when you have the present.

Life will always be hard, but the rewards are more fulfilling, compared to life being e (Z)

seem to forget all the places I’ve gone, still remember
all those I’ve loved – while our dreams still attract my
imagination; dressed in your night gown.

the breath of a lover’s skin still tingles even after she’s gone;
yet it would be the older version of me, teaching the young –
that even the ones with a bag of ***, still carry their baggage;
that even with a bag of tricks by your side, a better man will
make your best love, seem so average.

trading paint over our skins; just to paint a picture of a future;
a man finds joy in knowing he’s the present suitor – though if he
can’t dress the part of her life, please don’t shed tears when she
finds one that suits her.

but maybe I wrote this for all the losers – perhaps, “you sir”

so said the man looking at himself in that mirror. third wheeling
their love as a chauffeur. he once took the financial risk of finding
love. an entrepreneur – yes, “you sir”

           didn't plan to lose her, but hey there, Mr Loser.

War fronts;
All of our true selves'
Could gather around-
In arms locked together:

Darling'
You're unguarded of heart.

With an open smile;
Your make-up won't align'
Under it all, you seem so shy:
At the core of it all-
A gnaw at the apple of my eye.

Your tears of agony and joy;
Are the good and the bad'
In this crazy city life:
Found a lip fit, saluting boys.

Does your kiss still bleed;
As you're taking a bite:
Tongue still run errand'
As my breath comes inside?

Skirmished for this love;
And took a shot at it'
Dropping bombs of cursing;
In valley' that became atomic'
Putrid words you and I spoke-
A pool of Blackened *****.

Two sides in constant battle;
Slipping nicely to our fit:
Walking jointly in an open-
(Desert war sandal)

   (War; War; War;)
I continue on clashing at love'
   (War; War; War;)
You've torn through my heart'
   (War; War; War;)
Leaving me in love and apart.

Everything is so terrifying for the introvert going outside—
the overthinker rehearses all of their prestored sentences,
Sitting on impeccable lines with no trace of uncertainty,
but ever so certain that it’s what the ear wants to hear.
The hopeless romantic knows the picture of a good love
story, but can’t seem to paint that picture for themselves—
Because imagination never quite imitates real emotion.
                                                        ­         And it’s irritating.

But haven’t I been them all? A single character playing
too many roles— the pencil in my story, trying to sketch
out the scenery of a better life. The pen, trying to write
out a good script that fits in the ink folds of my cerebellum.
My skin wears the wrinkles of time, bruises like an overcoat—
a weathered face, but it’s body has no spring in its step.

I’ve been depressed. But when you’re made to grow up too
fast, to keep pace with the world, what else do you expect?

Still, don’t expect me to be anything less than my level best.
Elevated fears go up, while my hope quietly goes down.
Yet on the upside? I stopped pretending to flip my frown
upside down. Some days I’m up. Most days I’m so down.
But I’m not always down— just holding onto the little hope
I find in creation; beauty painted out from my frustrations.
Like the weather, my mood keeps shifting. And whether
you’re caught in a long winter after a short summer,
Don’t worry— it’s all just a passing season.

“I miss you,”
And that’s the fact I hate the most- aggrieved
By every memory of us, every grain of our love
Even if it was for a short while, cos for a short while,
I felt so happy to experience love again, to smile
Because someone made me smile, to laugh with
Someone in private, even if its for the silliest of things

                                                                                                    “I miss you,”
                                   And that’s the fact I hate the most- and it’s in such
                               an uncomfortable experience, that the mind tends to
                                 wonder in all its what if’s— but more so, I question
                            myself of whether I was the one more in love than the
                                                                                   both of us combined…

                                                    “I miss you,”
                           And that’s the fact I’ll always hate the most.