With a breath of air,
I'd like to feel a little fresh today
like a mint of course,
But I'm perhaps too spicy for the world,
a peppermint too much
Of course my wording would be sharp
at the very tip of my tongue,
Spearmint tasty.

Still like a treat
with all these mints
How wouldn't you think me a little
too sweet.

"Shoot your shot"
love at times can feel like a long shot in the end
Those with red flags spell trouble in bold letters;
bold enough to conquer your feelings with the phrase,
                                                      "we're just friends"

"Take your chances"
falling in love isn't as close to falling in love by chance
Past lovers without fathers, searching for a man in their life;
as you stand out of the crowd—seemly different,
                                         "best to keep to your stance"

Not everything that looks good,
is as good as it comes—not good enough
Quick charms are magical in those moments,
but could spell danger. So if you meet someone as
close to being imperfectly perfect...RUN!

The best thoughts I had were the ones in my own
darkness, where I could explore the depths of my
mind and contemplate life's mysteries.

It was in those moments of solitude that my innermost
creativity came to life, birthing new ideas and perspectives.
I felt an unparalleled sense of clarity as the darkness
enveloped me, allowing me to see my thoughts
with unparalleled clarity.

But beyond this introspective cocoon,
there was another desire that flickered within me.
I yearned to weave a tapestry of envy in the eyes of
those who dared to compare themselves to me,
especially when it came to you.

Your presence ignited a fire within me,
an unquenchable ambition to outshine and
outperform anyone who tried to stand alongside us.

Lord protect me from turning urban
So easy to act so different, when you're living suburban
You could get lost in all the foolish things while constantly searching
To many of us forget about a recent sermon,
But remember what we found two weeks ago, while internet surfing
Drowning in our sorrows, and still wondering about our purpose

All it really takes is God's discernment...

Life is so unnerving,
Crawling under your skin; as the flesh is always burning
Always yearning;
And when you feed into it, our spirit is slowly hurting
As the sacrifice made for us, is something we're undeserving

Still it served a much larger purpose...

It's so easy to lose your faith, if you trade it's purpose,
For buying into feelings like a daily purchase
As this prayer would end off as it started,
As a prayer for protection from this world circus

                              Amen.

I'm a basket case,
with nothing more to eat, but just the chip on my shoulder
I feared never making it close to twenty one,
to now my biggest fear of getting anymore older
I live on borrowed time,
asking the many second favours from the clock on the wall
And to have myself to chin up,
counting all the hairs on it; feeling insecure when I count them all.

I'm no role model,
but know the act of a fool, smiling through their pain
At the awkward age,
of not being young or old enough to fit in adulthood's frame
But through the window of my eyes
you see I'm made of glass through hurt of my window pane
I had a brush with death,
but quickly swept the fear of dying under the rug of tomorrow
As if I live for all of today,
yesterday's always feel much simpler, knowing what to follow

I'm no leader,
when I feel battered on my social battery made out of led
I'm a foe to myself,
overthinking most times, as anxiety tends to be a friend.
I'm a double entendre,
humorous as an awkward smile much brighter in the dark
I'm an oxymoron,
double checking every meaning to anything closest to my heart

              I'm a calm demeanor, with a messy mind,
                 tidying my words before speaking something foul
                       at most, more of a human's human inside
                             born of the birds and the bees,
                          flying high in my dreams, as my mind is fowl.

Ugh..hanging body
hanging on threads;
tied around feeling tired
My eyes feel like a fire, trapped
in a package of my baggy eyes

Ugh...I paid extra tips for the
night before. Woke up feeling tipsy
The night before felt a little too risky
dealing with the heavy whispers of someone
saying they want to kiss me

Ugh...the day tastes ugly
and I really feel funny
Thankfully I was in good company
enjoying the good old days for a younger me
But now the daylight is chewing me up
and the loud sounds of day swallows me up

Ugh...Sunday hangover
Monday feels so close to the touch,
and I'm hoping for that day of work
I don't wake up feeling rough

like a piece of gum spat onto the concrete
—some of us that are still stuck to the streets
without any real reason to look for love;
just being trampled by stranger's feet

like a fly on the wall, seeing it all in
a private room
hovering over flesh, and trying to make small talk
out of a conversation already dead
reading into all these pointless conversations;
all spelling doom

tell me why I'm holding onto you, and still losing control
with all the stars in your eyes, galaxies and planets
it will always be us being so many worlds apart

You're a 95, and I have 99 ways to show you love
Still four years behind, I could never afford your touch.
But I could teach you how to bite those words,
straight after I bite that peach.

And even if I walked a mile,
I could never be invited to be on those streets
But let's be honest, I love to kid around a lot,
so no wonder why you just call me a kid.

Save me Lord,
for thinking suicidal.
Knees bleeding of prayer, with tears
on the bible.
Life's always a risk,
especially when you're going through it a
Lone survivor.

Humbly I must confess to you,
not always at my best,
More likely like a mess, everytime I'm
praying to you.
Last thing on my mind,
is to be thinking about death.
Seems I've become worn out,
as my heart is undressed.
So if I'm speaking much Truth,
this really started when I was young and depressed.

But isn't that the world,
all down on their luck.
We're not that surprised,
probably now we just behold.
Still I know I'm not the only one,
to say that this round kind of *****.

Maybe gone is the world,
or rather gone are we.
Half a tank of faith, the other half
definitely disbelief.
We just need some relief,
you know the type that helps you breathe.
For when you seem to have
fallen short,
You're not too far from a shortness of believe.

But wait no,
I'm just speaking about myself this time.
Something I do on the low,
as is with this smile.
Cracking deep inside of me,
for the future it doesn't know.

A glass of water for an empty shell,
Living this crazy race of my life, I tell you this life can almost feel like Hell.
A bucket of tears and a thousand  breathes,
Moving on and on till I really need to rest because I have nothing left.
A  song for a singing heart and a mute mind,
Play backwards tracks to repeat that step, I'm a whole different kind.

And I don't have a son right now but I worry so much for him,
Son, your father hopes to give you everything you need, my Boy you'll be my greatest win.
My dearest daughter that I'm yet to meet,
Your father would give you the world if it was mine to own, but I can give you place to set, a place in my seat.

And I'm trying to break a spell of being so common and easily known,
I'm trying so bad to kiss a sun and hug the moon, and sit next to a new Dawn.
Or maybe I'm desiring to be something else that people are yet to understand,
This noise maker of self, making background noises, this one man band.

And curse my evil thoughts and distasteful lusts,
Shame on me me for being tired from doing nothing, and cuddling in messy husks.

But really right now I need a glass of water for this empty shell,
And to relax myself then keep myself going, moving forward even though this life can feel like Hell.

As could I-
give falsehood to what is life...

Inside,
the many dark corners of a mind.

Do find yourself in the places
where fear tries to force you to hide.

Not relying on pride,
as what could save your life.

We live a day, for another one to
make us wise...

Only we can can inspire,
the spark of-
one's dream to it's fire.

And as we lift the hopes of others;
so does our own grow much higher...

I and this life inside,
are in a constant battle in my mind.
I often want to hide behind my pride,
but it couldn't once save my life.

I must be wise,
with the wisdom to inspire,
and to light the way of destiny's fire.
I'm low for the moment;
but every low point encourages me,
to push much higher...

Placed on these waters
you look for change in life's quarters
Tell me what you find.

Unless of course you find yourself
but who are you really
Rather what have you come from
and what's the beauty in the voice of your song.

Surely the horizon ahead is misty at times
looking into the future isn't so easy to see
But like waters across the globe that dress the sea
You'll never meet an end cause for that very end is just a beginning.

Placed on these waters
you wrap yourself in a blanket of hope
Tell me if you've never felt so warm.

A placed bet on life
but has life dealt you a better hand.

Everything always feels like a risk
still from all the best endings of your misplaced fortunes you should be glad
The little of you is a better hand then a lot of problems
So hold dearly on all that you have closely to hand.

What you see at the end of a river
is only the start of a lake
And the end of that draws into a ocean
grander is we draw into greatest like waters drawing into a Great sea.

So see no end in your life
the end is just a new beginning
We could seek so many answers
but never get set on life's true meaning.

Still living a meaningful life has it's purpose
like change in the upcoming season
Change comes at it's own cost
before knowing the purchase.

So whatever you place on these waters
place on it your faith
Such draws into your heart drowning, your soul
washing away the despair on your mind
Misty waters is us looking to an uncertain future
certain it will all work out well
So you'd have your faith out on a stretch.

Above the misty waters,
is to be above the unclear the human eye
Seeing clearly through God's eyes.

Steal a whisper from the breeze – wipe your shoes at the threshold
of Father Time; the embrace of Mother Nature bosoms over my gaze,
nourishing me with the vivid picture of life yearning for sustenance.
As a wailing child, wrap me in the blanket of my dreams; my sheets
stained with yellow – don’t label me as yellow, for I despise
being ******.

Capture a flair in a brushstroke – the delicate arch of an eyebrow,
lifted at the sight of the Cross; “I still ponder how,” they criticized the
woman who dried His feet with her hair – she must have been bold.
Now, resting at the foot of the Cross; I must be wise to take down
those footnotes.

Lend a smile from a tear – grinning through the pain, the ache of
existence is merely this relentless cycle within the machinery of time.
A lavish timepiece; cherish all that you have at hand; and arm your resolve to fulfil His Will.

There' a missing scene,
in between a few texts of your last seen
Making my mind go black as that screen,
staring at the dark; a usual shadow as it seems
As you could cry yourself a river over a missed
opportunity of Netflix and chill; but it's just a couple streams

Words to the matching of your face need be explain
I'll have a clue of your journey once I get your name.

Why try cover face when Beauty still leaks
And you may catch my early intentions cause I've been using old tricks.

So if a couple of words I say sound a little vague
Comfort me by pillows on your chest babe.

Look to the blossom of your face, catching my feelings for spring.
Cold winter arrives I'll know to keep you warm up to your finger with a ring.

Be like an awaited gift long before December,
Send messages with your eye and I'll gladly be your sender.

And with a neck of tender I'll bite into the flesh so it may scream
Every reaction you give I return in  opposite. Best play it mean.

Sleep on me. Feel me still in all your dreams.

For two faces will come to collide
These feelings failing to subside.
And I'll be the Long journey if your willing to ride.

Your face and mine, together to be
We.

I'll rest on the softness of your leg's curve
While waves of your body rocks me to sleep.
Few soft kisses you give will be a lullaby that I'll prefer for you to repeat.

Your honey sweet lips will run down my throat with their taste
While  your skin rests with tender.
And all that I taste of you I'll not let go to waste.
I'll receive your message, and gladly be your sender.

Force me to bed, but I don't want to fall asleep tonight.
Soaked my pillow in tears from a couple days ago.
Living through the high points of my life, but only on the low.

But I don't want to close my eyes for a second more while that empty darkness gives me a fright.
I don't want my mind to run away from the nightmares in my head, neither helping me to rest.

I'm wearing rubber clothes tonight in linen sheets. Forgive me for being a little depressed.

Forced into this worthlessness, but I would not stay there on a rich heart.
Drowing in blood, how my high blood pressure is going to prey on me tonight.

I'll pray for something warm for me to wear, but so sorry I only have these rubber clothes. Carrying the dirt of black mud.

I got a few rubber clothes, a few pieces of plastic to sew into my smile.
A few pieces of man that they wishing to take back.
A few pieces of doubt, and pieces of flesh to feed my bones along in the mile.

A rubby heart, plastic choking me from inside.
I'm wearing these rubber clothes cause I don't have anything much to hide.

I feel like a message I need to delete,
backspaces; wishing I could go back
Idling inside of my own head, before I start today

Sitting in the absence of a mind;
-a present state in all of it's empty rooms,
Empty thoughts of wasting time,
I'm lingering, having conversations with myself;
and its all sort of rude

Time starts to feel wet,
slipping through my fingertips
Days feeling like I'm waking up from a coffin,
dusting myself of yesterday's work and filth
A wet blanket trying to keep a warm conversation going;
still a bit thankful of where I'm going isn't leading me into nowhere
Planting an electric fence around my heart,
a warning sign in bold, "you wouldn't want to play here"

Eyes start to feel like a shade of curtains;
-their runners are bit too tired to chase the day ahead
An early morning fire with a lot of black smoke,
it's that grind of life; bitter sweet like a cup of coffee down a throat
Call me out as an exhaust of an old model Ford- exhausted
as today gave me a few mustang kisses, running horses to be
stable; I was unable to able, while my able was able to unable

                                 ....it's 5 o' clock, Monday morning. Crap!

As I slumber, dreaming upon many things
Building upon my inner thoughts.
Seeking for myself across these dreams.

Fictual ideas I do say.

I slept across the early morning
Waiting upon another day to arrive as the day was dawning.
In my dreams I find myself hiding
Subsiding upon wakeness from the lack of sleep it's providing....

Often the real Truth of my pain is that denying.
Given the chance of many split end dreams to be only yet dividing.

My common denominator is not as inspiring
But I'm perhaps lying.

For in my fictual nightmares I'm liken to play a villain
Who sits on a high chair looking down upon peasants. Holding the world through his fingers.
I admit the idea feels quite thrilling.

Yet I'm forced to play a fool in the realms of reality
Basically denying my crave as a man yearning to conquer.
Living life carefree,
Yet they wonder why I wish to sleep across the nights so much longer.

But there is no bother,
I take my long sleeps as a basis to discover.
Who the man inside of me is destined to be....
When all the young eyes will look my way and only see ME.

Soon  they'd know what beckons through my fictual nightmares, the never-ending story
Acting as the animal claiming his mark while marking his territory.

Wishing not been seen as weak,
And if sleeping across several nights builds up on my strength
Shall I not sleep across an entire week.

Oh, how utterly enchanting, as sweetness unfurls in the breeze,
A tender caress, as our lips intertwine with such ease.
In the dance of love, we twist and entwine,
An invitation extended, a date so divine.
In simple moments of conversation, our souls intertwine,
Passion ablaze, as we discover hearts aligned.

Pretty are her eyes, seductively caressed by the midnight hour,
Ensnared in labyrinth of time. For those who dare to surrender  
to their allure.

Like a shadow, lurking in the depths of innocence,
A hazy mist of temptation, igniting a burning desire
within the daring soul.

Tonight, the darkness unveils,
Revealing the irresistible glow of your essence.

Our resting fates, lay on our head' two pillowcases.
All my thoughts all seem fast asleep in bliss.
Who would dare, disturb my best peace?
Darling, I hope they all would know you,
Are the most valuable piece in my entire mind.

In the tranquil embrace of night,                                             
our destinies entwined, as our heads rest upon the soft pillows.
Every thought within me slumbers, basking in heavenly tranquility.
No one should dare to shatter the serenity that I have found.
My love, I pray that they all understand the depth of your significance,
For you are the priceless jewel that resides in the very core of my being.

Resting face of desire, and her beauty.
You made all of the boys lose feet and chase.
Such a dame, known more for a name,
And games we could play in Sun' day.
I miss you, as you took your last rest.
All I have, is a last scent on your pink pillowcase.

In the gentle repose of passion, your beauty
shines like a radiant sun.
You ignite a fire within, causing men
to stumble and chase after your allure.
You, my beloved enchantress, known not only for your name but for the irresistible games we played on sunlit days.
Oh, how I yearn for you, as you took your final rest.
All that remains is the lingering scent upon your delicate pink pillowcase, a melancholic reminder of our cherished moments together.

Red Roses,
Thoughts of many thorns.
Loss of focus,
From the stinging. Dearly it burns.

Valley's bed,
Filled out of my Heart with only red.
Fallen Hearts and roses in Winter's breath, down on the ground to shed.
No life is spared.

Spare the bore
From the ongoing gore,
Of a plant being as is from once a spore.

Red Roses of a field,
Thorns of Heart not keen to yield.
This Valley feels like a battlefield.

Battling the Sun's scorching heat,
We few can not retreat.
I fall so **** weak,
Barely can speak.

Oooooh

Red Roses I fail to say
Of a common smell in the air of decay.
Losing another Heart each and every single day.
Cold winters of an early May.

A human experience,
a pocket full of options
-a tune for my room
Airpods, a moody playlist;
alone to dance without a point to prove
Current location: My happy place

Telephone, telephone
I wrote a song for a girl
but it was just a poem

Her name was ringing
inside my head, but she loves
calling me her best friend
The only reason why
I chose to come to this event

Shisha sticks in rotation,
Russian roulette with smoke
Puffing long,
eyes red and bleeding tears;
trying not to cough and choke

Crowds of lungs made of hell;
black smoke, ashy rains and
little black stains on your soul...

Skinned emotions and ***** thoughts; we can be
careless as a dream —feeling a pinch of love, still  
pinch me if I’m dreaming.  

I glamour on compulsive needs; never satisfied by a  
wanting happiness; creasing a stone face, and waiting  
for the wrinkles of time, to smooth out my maturity.  

The flesh only learns what is important, when starved  
of all that is convenient; as the mind is an ****** *****,  
beautiful, wild, creative and charming—  
when trained well.  

Live by your flesh; you’ll die by it too, as it dines on you
Put no mind on the things that you do;
then pay  no mind to when people call you a fool.

Gunning for my soul,
Lot of shots to take.
Higher risings of the warnings ahead raises the stakes.

Often feeling all on my own
Keeping close to myself, guarding my soul.

Still who really knows of a place
Of hiding my fears behind this crooked face.
Out in the world of it's empty space
Beating on troubles with a rusty old mace.

Soul.
O'how I have you close to my keep.
In your shadowy depths you often hold my feelings and secrets of deep.
And I hear you often crying out to speak.
But the words you have left are so hardest to reach.

Taking so these shots, we're both on guard.
For life is no easy trip when everyone acts so hard.
Still let's play to life's game as a wild card.
Let it not take control of us while we still remain in charge.

Do you still book yourself
to spell the words of your love'
Often read in the wrong body language;
making scribbles on your skin- to mark out
other people's marks, marking you as their own?

Do you still dream about that pretty rose,
sitting in a water bottle in the sun
Trying to brighten up your skin, and learning
to be like a flower; not so scared to open up?

Do you still feel nostalgic when you kiss
all of those nights away;
As you always miss the goodnight kisses
that your lover rested on your head?

And you cry and cry, every single night
with an ocean inside of your eyes
Drowning yourself inside the guilt,
in a guild, of all those people you had once loved
Similar interests of a man's endless pursuits,
they only seen a pretty face, but could never see Y.O.U

How be the zeal of my will,
for man does fall short
Such is man, imperfect as He,
still He of perfect Love loves the imperfect.

My flesh loves crying for desires,
I know I shouldn't follow.
I'm weak, beneath flesh and bone,
as the Spirit is the only. Stronger!
Underneath this earthly vessel.

But the Spirit is in a
constant hunger
As flesh does hunger for flesh,
a Spirit hungers meditation of The Word.

The heart though being
evil at times, still has Love to give
Though the mind often thinks
the unholy, there are still some good lessons for it to teach.

Though a hand is accustomed
to harm
The other holds aid.
Despite the feet's missteps
they aren't misplaced in your ways.

So like the compass,
guiding a ship in chaotic sea
Be as my True North and guide me.

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...

Family will disappoint you when you least expect it,
money will often fail you, slipping through your fingers
just when you need it the most.

Successes, no matter how plentiful, will inevitably run dry,  
time, a merciless force, will never be on your side, slipping
away faster than you can grasp it.

However, your dreams will stand as an unwavering companion,
that greets you each morning and accompanys you as you sleep.

And even in death, your dreams will continue to live on
in the hearts and minds of others, becoming a part of your legacy.
—a lasting testament to your indomitable spirit and
the mark you have left behind.

Constant wrinkles in their eyes,
These eyes that have seen a world's ***** laundry
All of which has been rinsed in the tears of time,
An ungodly sight; so long and behold
As you've lived your life by an act, without a role
Preying on your failures, and worshiping them as a Lord.

Life is but a place of all the prettiest butterflies,
Burning red; and dangerously bright as the desires in an eye
We all fail to see anything less important, than what makes
Us seem much more important, than all others in our lives
Death will always be that whisper, that only the dead
Will truly know what it speaks
And as the piece of yourself tears itself away from mortal flesh;
I do pray you find an immortal peace.

You'll soon be forgotten in due time,
Wiped away from existence, as we wipe away your memory
With a smile over your life, in these soon to be funeral tears.

                                                I fear I must bid you all goodbye.

Service is due waiting on a fix,
a black beating, and shadowy echo
Holding onto old ways, but maybe we should let go
put back into heart.
Back into that bleeding piece.

Do we ever love you enough,
has the world loved you a little that my particular love is always a lot
Or maybe I'm convinced into easily buying into love by the mart.
a corner store close to my heart,
Tied to me, so don't unwind the knot

Would you care enough about me anymore,
being lead by this discussion
Sense emotions but maybe can't feel no more
Why we're all not taking our time is because the whole world is all too busy rushing.

Still I am due the service,
could you maybe do me well a black service
In the dark glaring at the light of being a better person
I know it's a bleeding heart, but I don't think I can feel the hurting

I'm due a service.

Don't need to know the cost
I just need to finish my shopping, so could we start.

I don't take care myself,
or buy into the idea of buying into happiness by the sum of your wealth
But I do care if the blackness of my heart robs the happiness of my health.

I'm due a service.

From being the wrong, I'll be seen the worst,
who's lining up for a fix,
I'm in line in the middle claiming "I'm the first".

Still due the service.

Black is dark,
Still black is art and who we are.
And we wear that picture within our many scars.

Still due the service.

I just need to finish my shopping, so could we start.
Due a black service and seeking The Lord on top.

In the vast expanse of the celestial realm, where stars twinkle and galaxies dance, I witnessed the somber symphony of funerals in the skies. The haunting melody of a dying star echoed through the cosmos, while the silence of a falling tree reverberated with a profound intensity.

From the very moment of my arrival into this world, I burst forth with an explosive energy, clutching a fragment of my own existence. Yet, amidst the chaos, a wise voice advised me to gather myself, to find stability in the midst of life's tempestuous storms.

Within the depths of my being, my eyes shimmered like precious diamonds, forged from the crust of knowledge buried deep within the recesses of my mind. Some may label it a "***** mind," a guilty pleasure concealed behind the innocence that radiates from my gaze. The words that flowed from my lips possessed a silver tongue, born from the very metal that mankind had forged in the fires of their own pride.

I savored the bitter taste of acknowledging my past pride, forever harboring a touch of spitefulness within me. I regarded those more fortunate as my rivals, constantly engaging in quarrels within my prayers of gratitude. Trembling at the unanswered pleas, I sought solace in crafting my own revelations, only to be met with failure that served as a reminder of my own unfaithfulness. And in those moments of vulnerability, tears would cascade down my cheeks, a silent plea for understanding.

In the shadows, I am a lover, concealing my true emotions behind a smile that graces my public facade. Yet, in the intimacy of secrecy, my grin betrays the excitement that courses through my veins as I share my innermost thoughts. Secretly, I am my own strict disciplinarian, relentlessly chastising myself for every misstep taken in the light of day. As the sun sets, I extinguish the lights of my mind, allowing the darkness to envelop me, preparing myself to ignite the flame of motivation come morning.

For it is in the night, when the world slumbers, that the truth reveals itself. It is in the darkness that I find solace, where the masks we wear during the day are shed, and our true selves emerge, unfiltered and vulnerable.

Oh mightily
seems a chasing sunflower
bending to the will of where light lies
My settling empty eyes, peering at holes
dug trenches burying dying seeds in heart
Does it matter, matter how long gentiles
take to germinate. You fertilize your words
in my garden; I'm always a mess

There are weeds in my garden

Stop me if you've heard this before
a sad person with the prettiest smile
Their cries lost on the fabric of a pillow
to pretend they're having fun;
He sniffed a line of salt
—stuffed rocks in his chest, it grew a rose
black rose, scarred and charred by being in the sun
He pours out his heart, the words come out as jokes
or to those listening with uninterested ears
They can't hear my pain

There are weeds in my garden

Who to cry to cry
when you've been told you've cried enough
always told to man up. Put your chest out;
you're no excuse to admit you're cut up
like a flower head cut from the source
So much to express, but so little words
so little time, so little time, so little reason
to fake a smile

There are weeds in my garden

Choked
my slurry words, speaking slurs
running words into another chasing dreams
pursuing success in less than successful ways
cheering for others jeering back at you
No excuse to cry, but just tears watering my garden
r.i.p to weeds ripped out of my garden
                             only for a moment.

I or you; is the question to ask of who will die first for who,
I owe you; an explanation of why I can’t say the three important words to give an account towards my wicked heart,
I O U; the three important vowels to make up that heavy weighted phrase:

                                          “I love you.”

My daddy warned me
not to stay up late,

But how could I,
how could I,

Not cry,
when the world looks;
so much better inside that screen?

My daddy never told me why,
cause we were too busy crying.

Stuck in my ways,
it's become a sticky situation.
Bought myself a tube of glue,
to be stuck in love.
Still love needs more than adhesive,
you could be stuck to something
But something would hate to be stuck on you.

Surely that often enough you look that fine
Aged on the Beauty and taste of your Love
Lips tasting on you of such fine Red Wine.

A glass for my troubles just to dull them off
Darling be the last of the strong grape essence that will grip my throat.
Darling Red Wine of mine of much worth.

For on this night O' Love of mine
Your heart turns the twirls of my mind till it spins out of my control.

For a piece of your Love has paid off my feelings for you by a dime.
For I'll search so deeply inside my soul,
To finding reason to grow old of your taste.

But you'd never go to my tongue's memory to spoil.

Stirring my heart, stirring through me, piercing my heart right through.
Sticking to me that close that we're probably one.
And surely I'm not taking all this just as childish fun.
For I take to your taste that seriously enough that I never grow tired of you.

My sweet, sweet, Red Wine,
O' How often do I see you so fine.
For my Heart is awed to the knowing of you being Mine.

O' my Red Wine.

Working long hours to pay for a job on an empty road,
Can barely think straight or in one direction, for my thoughts are too abroad.
I told myself yesterday, you cannot touch what you cannot see,
You can't really **** if all the guns are not free ,
And if you don't have cash you cannot go on some crazy shopping spree.
Plus you can't really hate me if you don't fully know me.

That yesterday turned into two weeks ago,
A couple hours back to that I knew where those words were going to, I  knew where to put my words to go.

Now I'm finally here, whatever this place could be,
In empty nothingness taking a lot of space, now I'm feeling so golden free.
But I'm a person trying to fit in puzzle places when I'm a solid block,
Turn around to that, I'm a Golden Key for this empty lock.

Now here I am,
In this open space, feeling like the golden man.
I want to dive into a empty pool when I still cannot swim,
Drown away all my pains and regrets and cut it down, not just a trim.

But that was just a golden rule I told myself,
For this is my worth building up and this all my wealth.

Try to runaway to old childish memories. Playing the old block game, building things I wish I had.
The old lego toys with paint barely left in place on their faces. How right now I feel so sad.

Try to escape to when I had such a large imagination to escape to in my head's own world
Talking to the many Friends they could not see. Old paper planes I never learnt to fold.

Bicycles with no brakes but just the sole of my shoe and risks of my flesh
The many dishes I made with all the brown muddy puddles. Gosh it's all a mess.
We played games as we could be your Mommy and Daddy,
Sorry though child we couldn't afford you a Nanny.
So shut up and go to school while we'd be making you little siblings named Manny and Danny

To the days weird girls had me going crazy,
When watching TV was said to make me lazy.
When you had me puzzled, didn't know where to fit
When my stomach felt strangely good the first time we ever kissed.

When the only knot I failed to make was in a tie
When being so shy made me fail to greet someone new when they're saying Hi.

Every close corner being an adventure in my eye
The many cuts and bruises on my skin to tell the stories.  Childish memories always seem to make me cry.

I miss the imaginary friends and different vehicles my bicycle could be,
Thinking of such memories often feels like a fade. Alas the only the reflection I have is the left over bruised skin on my knee.

Alas I'm lost again in my Childish Memories

Petals wilted fast
—breeze carried it far away,
all lost in memories

My thoughts seem small by my gaze of your mini dress,
as if they shrink in comparison to the sheer beauty you exude.
Like a bee drawn to the sweet nectar of a flower,
I find myself irresistibly captivated by the sight of
honey dripping from a bee nest.

The way your dress gracefully hugs your curves reminds
me of an ant, diligently going about its business beneath
the safety of its shelter.
It is in these moments that I am reminded of my own strength,
for despite feeling overwhelmed by the urge to possess you,
I know that I have the capacity to protect and cherish you
within the walls of this house.

However, as my desire intensifies, I can't help
but feel a subtle discomfort. It's as if my own physical form
is rebelling against the constraining force of my pants,
constricting and tightening around me.
This sensation, though initially unwelcome, serves as a
reminder of the passion that burns within me.
It is a reminder that I am willing to endure physical
discomfort in order to pursue the release that only you can offer,
like a prisoner longing to be set free from the confines
of his own mind.

In this internal struggle, I can't help but see myself as
a creature trapped within the labyrinth of desire.
My thoughts, once free to roam, are now confined by the
beastly nature of my yearning. Yet, despite the entrapment,
there is a certain allure to this captivity.
It is a tantalizing proposition, to let out this hidden creature
that resides within me and to indulge in the forbidden
pleasure that tempts me tonight.
The allure is dangerous and tempting, like a siren's song
that beckons me towards uncharted waters.

So, would you be willing to untether this imprisoned
beast and play with the fire that burns within me?
Would you give in to the temptation and explore the depths
of passion that we both desire?

Amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions, it is your decision
that holds the key to our liberation, to a union that
transcends the boundaries of ordinary experience.

I dreamt of a familiar kind of you,
that I became soaked in my own tears
I swam across oceans to reunite with you, to see you again,
but I know so much of you, and how you hate to see men
And I'd hate to admit it was all just a ******* in the end.

I wonder if you held the key to curing my depression,
I had always felt like a burden, being treated as a sickness
As I couldn't really talk to a lot of girls a while before;
so I'm guessing now, its still my only real weakness
But I learnt to catch myself enough times,
before catching anymore of unnecessary feelings
I had become a master at suppressing my feelings,
even if it meant killing a part of myself in the process
- suffering in love crimes with so many villains.

But I'd kiss a mistress as if I were her last hero,
though, I couldn't get enough of shaking
hands with a bit of lust, -it should have been
my very last in all these secret ***** dealings
Still on top of my head, I go beyond my own ceilings,
I would continue to lock my heart away, like a machine
that had been programmed; to securely lock away
it's heart with time's sealings.


                           Is this what it feels like to never love again?

Beautiful nightmares,
the dreams of logos on my shirt
-more like holes to aim at my heart
And I must of had a bold kind of thought,
when I let you cut all of my hair that night
So funny how I used to think of suicide,
but it must be a crime at your place,- I'll sue that side
And so ironically, I would love to die by your side.

I'll feed on your food for thought,
a staple meal; as I'm hooked on you
Pinned to your worth, with a tight staple,
balancing in between the time of keeping a relationship stable.

"I love you utterly more than the words to utter,"
are the words I'd enjoy to say, but do pray tell
Cos I know you can read about love, but could you spell,
the words of the charm it takes, of the magic of a love spell.

                        I know I'm not in love, but I'd like to be.

And as the dreams start to haunt you;
· · · · · ·there’s no yielding result
Turning off the lights to your eye’s house
living in a sensual cold heat; cutting away
the old pieces of yourself— tailor trimmed
New memories **** the old ones supreme,
the sweetest ones sting the cheeks, as with
· · · · · ·chocolate, and sweet vanilla cream

But a joy to us, still as a cup filled to the brim
on a sweet journey to love; enjoying every thrill
Thrusting trust on a slippery road, perfect to slide
into Dm’s— one has their risk of trust

Dust is like a cloud on the road
· · · · · ·too blind to see the form of rust
In your dry bones; a burning desire burst,
on a road to and a must, of you pouring out your
strategy, and letting them tell you if it’s worth a shot
They’ll drink everything about you- all in machine
of your sweetness from within

· · · · · ·Tell me what would they get from the first sip?

In the realm of your mentions,
I often find myself trapped in the complicated
dance of the friend zone, where boundaries
blur and desires ignite.

It is in this contradictory space that I feel
compelled to express my thoughts about your mentions:
the captivating allure of your flowing waves,
so enchanting in their beautiful movement,
it has this irresistible magnetic pull.
Each gentle touch from your lips, like a heavenly elixir,
envelops my senses in a delicate yet intoxicating flavor,
leaving me wanting more.

In the midst of these tangled emotions,
I search for the perfect words, longing to express
my deepest desires that lie dormant within me.
It is a delicate balancing act, where my words weave
a tapestry of passion and longing, intricately
intertwined with yours.

In my imagination, I hold onto the image of your
graceful neck, a natural masterpiece of elegance,
as I yearn to run my fingers along its curves,
savoring the tactile sensation that only you can provide.
And your *******, a source of sweet nectar like no other,
tempt me to call you honey, for in your presence, I become
a fervent bee, desperate to leave a lasting mark on your skin, surrendering to the insatiable hunger that consumes me.

Awakening the dormant beast within me
is effortless in your presence, as I battle the resistance
that arises within the confines of my jeans,
A silent testament to the fiery desire that burns within me.
Guided by instinct, my lips explore the paths that lead
to the core of your being, seeking the hidden treasures that
reside within the depths of your sacred temple.

Each touch, each exploration, holds the promise of uncharted territories, dormant passions waiting to be unleashed.
And with each longing gaze, it seems I have revealed
the pirate that resides in my eyes, setting sail a fleet of ships,
fueled by an insatiable hunger that yearns to consume you completely, like the meeting of two forces.

Love is a rush
but to what end of fools rushing to fall in love? Hearts to be pacing in the presence of your love; still there are those running to break another heart.

Breaking and entering,—
all those stolen heart's to never fall in love again. Conversations of us just being friends; putting up these walls of defence. Oh how maddening it is, to know there's no ****** for your heart, to defend yourself from love sickness. It is wicked, as all our crushes can leave us in pieces.

Still a love in pieces, can build you high towers of towering over love,
or cowering over love.

A pen:

a brush that paints a shadow of my past,
a guide of stories to lead into a future's path,
a maddening chorus of songs; all that play in parts,
an echo that shouts the silence of my heart,
a remainder of me working on myself to be a work of art

But I'm still somewhat unfulfilled;
knowing that there's more of me to write
To write of people, this world, and life
as I write better than a day before- I'm still unskilled
Always in this constant unending plight
cursed by words playing in my mind and a drive
And as soon as I've died; you'd remember me as being skilled