A creative reflex —
Writing as a way to reflect
While breaking in between myself —
This is me, finding a recess.

And if kidding around is for kids,
Maybe some parts of me haven’t really grown
up yet.

Still, if I’m set —
Placing a quiet bet
On all these dreams I haven’t cashed in yet —
I hold the right
To keep searching for my best.

Because being better than the me from yesterday
Might be all I’ve got left…
And maybe, that’s enough!

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.

Kid sees ghosts in an empty fall of a garden,
Spring came around, but this heart can't be sprung by anyone.

Black trees all over my head, pretty much shady,
a little too crazy. Dodging the ships of relationships so I won't be good in the navy.
In a night garden where I grew black roses.

Being I am not the one,
not so bright today but I'm a lonely son.

Guess my time is done, guessing life was a little too fun.
Did a lot of deeds but they felt like none, so if you got some good deeds can I borrow some.

While in the night garden, that I planted myself,
wouldn't want to be there,
but I had to due to my health of thinking for
myself.

For Black roses,
make me seem so soulless,
And people shouldn't follow me cause I'm not the best Moses.
Blue tulips kinda remind me of sad kisses,
violets are a passion I have to towards my broken pieces.

And ghosts in my garden come out at night,
don't give me fright,
Cause once daylight comes they'll be running out of sight.

Night-time is me, only time really free.
I go into that state with a face of glee.
Daylight covers up my face, masking all my pain,
fire is my veins, and smoke clouds my brain.
But I don't know the difference cause it always feels the same.

Water in my garden only drowns my heart,
swimming in regret.
Sorrow is a rock at it's bottom holding me down, pretty much it's role and part,
And peace of mind to it is a threat.

But what could you expect less from a violent violet.

Cause my night garden is only a place for me, just to keep me sane,
whereabouts shouldn't be known.
For sharing with people would make it harder to maintain, I don't need the strain.
There's a lot of demons inside my brain,
trying to mask my pain.

But I wore out the face, buried inside my garden,
a place with no food for thought, so this mind is starving.
Hungry for love, and my composure,
something real to hold that pulls me closer.

Cause I hate myself for having a boo when it's only one of the ghosts in my garden's making,
cause such a theme is rather concerning.

But that theme was just a dream,
surely I need to wake.
But I fail to cause the heart sees reality as being  fake,
So let me stay awhile in my night garden's little space.

As we are under the shadowy guise of white,
let the echoes of your dreams resonate in your ears;
tears softly trace your cheeks in the dim light.
A smile twitched on your lips, often pretend yet
familiar—could it be that amidst the crowd,
I found myself falling for you?

Our gazes locked, a silent yearning hung in the air,
and a mood quivered to be kissed — losing the bass
of a voice; my own chest forgets how to speak,
I’m lost in the depths of my own heart.

I’ve whispered prayers to myself, as your smile
illuminated the moment, and I only heard in a poem
that someone could impart the whisper of their
desires by a kiss planted on someone’s lips-
for their dreams to grow

Ensnared in the crossfire of emotions, the sun
poured its golden rays into my very being, liken
to the fatigue of someone’s else wet dreams, you’ll grow
tired swimming through them at every stroke. So, before
we embark on this journey, hold tight to your essence,
as the days of flesh once again weave their memories,
igniting a spirited hope for what lies ahead…

These moving feet always stay hungry
For the steps on finding perfect dreams
Pestering about love again – it really bugs me.
How it usually goes for us, in this love story
Asking myself, “would you really tell me his story,”
Quietly knowing, “you two still share some history?”

Yes, your eyes are both the windows to your soul —
But their curtains are occasionally & forcefully closed
The story of every man, wanting to find that treasure,
Of their favourite girl's heart; marking it with an X,
And they all quietly hope, to closely hear her say,
"Hey, you're so much better than my ex.”
Asking myself, “what love of man, is surely king,”
Cause being that it's all ruled from a wicked heart –
It can take a week to fall in love, but it unfortunately
Takes a lot of us weeks to fully heal from a broken heart.

Love can become so foreign to someone,
Unfamiliar to the tastes of a good French kiss
"What's your love language," we first have to ask;
Body language can differ from what comes out of your lips.
As even a betrayer knows when to give the right kiss…

And by the wayside,
as the river flows,
you throw a stone.

How deep is your love,
and how far shall it spread,
by the ripples of caring words?

May fall in love,
but I'm too afraid to fall for you.
Even as a giver,
my biggest fear is me not providing for you.
My role as man a task,
in life, don't really have much time to relax.

Casually living,
perhaps is me easily sinning.
With all the cursing and pleading,
I hope in my season of love it will be springing.

In a lonely room; walls feeling like mirrors
in every empty corner.
Reflecting, on cringey moments,
points for past arguments. And of course, enjoying
the benefits of being the casual loner.

Pulling myself to the self doubts for tomorrow,
"will I wake up in the morning," the question
I have before I rest my head. I say a silent prayer;
and maybe try not to focus on death.
But instead, my focus is the pretty petty moments
of life; soon to fade like a flower.

The greatest overthinker when I'm all alone,
balancing insecurities, pleasure, and life's pressures.
Music of past songs, still ringing in my buzzing ears.
Phone full of playlists setting the mood for what face
I'm sleeping with tonight.
And wondering which one of my dreams I'm living to
be leaving for a successor.

Yes sir!

My mind alone; takes me further from home,
when I'm all alone.
So quiet in there, that you could drop a stone and
it would echo down to my soul. Entertaining the
crowd of shadows peeping through the window.
Tree branches digging into the walls, with my bed
in the middle.

I think about love, I wonder about hope.
I yearn for calm, I search for control.
I fight battles alone, I set my life's next goal.
I motivate my soul, and I push myself into being whole.

All of which happens in the dark room,
sitting on my own.

Compare the old ways to the new,
and "a lot has changed", as we'd like to say.
But change was always meant to be a cause
for change comes by the day.

The old will always criticise the things of the young,
the young give them plenty reason to think we're dumb.
In this time of ours,
we live in a time of things looking so pretty,  
but not as a pretty smell of flowers.

What's in it for love
before we even learn to love one another.
And what's left of this very time
that has never kept the very moments
of making everything yours and mine.

In this time of ours.

What a strange time it is,
it's a time where every being only has one fear.
What a pandemic.

In this time of ours.

Do you ever ever question the time,
or you never never really do mind.
If so it's fine,
still never complain when everything stops,
when you run out of time.


In this time of ours.

Pain is a story that I can't tell.
while my heart stays burning,
before it's witnessed the fires of Hell.
My mind is only trapped in a cell,
that I've built myself.
And who knows my very torture,
unsurprisingly there's somebody else.

Human pain is just a colour,
in every person a different kind of shade.
The pain that you've made.

In this time of ours.

The past is gone,
the present is unsettling,
While the future seems unwarranted.
Each day comes,
leaving us to be stuck on worrying.

In this time of ours.

What does time expect of us,
and what do we expect of time in the near future.
What's to come next?
Something good I hope,
from all the pain and cruelty.

Roused from my dreams, I find myself distant from the
images that once danced in my mind. A soft murmur of
dreams beckons, stirring weary eyes with the promise of
a new day’s embrace.  

A laugh escapes, brushed away, trapped within a
fabricated grin— shadows of tears that deepen the skin
already weary from time. Almost revelling in the illusion
that life is a triumphant race; pursuing all the things
I once fled from.  

Standing too close to the fire, of people’s words that
scorn your soul- I remain unafraid of their searing impact;
I have welcomed them all, wrapping myself in the comfort
of understanding that they hold no power over my identity
at all.

Teeth collide;
at touch of faces.
Strangers in a dream...
Surely I've kissed a few.

With wet eyes;
afraid of an ocean-
Drowning in sorrow,
washed away in thought.

I wipe away the past;
like dust in my eye.
I shan't cry,
as the past is only dry.

Only living now-
in present dreams I make;
and how they'll end.

My wings upon;
the falling hopes of I,
As heavens lift a buried heart,
In the tears of time,
endless as the miles to nowhere.

O'

Lover of so;
that you and I haven't met,
Many are my requests,
and these prayers of future,
Hurricanes of voices;
rhythms of choices we make,
The rhymes of pen;
all bled out onto paper.

Mobility of pen,
an agility with great nobility,
But only of those gifted the ability;
as the few residents of a poetic community.

These are the great successes;
from the hardest of times,
Within man's running thoughts,
all screaming-
"you've run out of luck, and time"

But I was running in place;
in the stillness of waiting on fate,
Despite of it being easier to wait,
how do you find what's out for you,
Being too afraid to walk out of the gate?

It may be;
an eye for an eye,
But it's the I against I;
as self-delusion makes any blind.

People can lie with the brightest smile,
stick close to your successes;
As you keep track on the race of life,
by it's undermined marathon mile.

The depth of the ocean;
feels shallow when we
both jump straight inside.
As it's tears make us cry,
when we see the bluest sky.

And with a spray
paint tan of a smile,
It peels off to pieces in
the Sun's glare, on
the walls of your face.
A child lost in a store of
life's advice, soon
after you let go of a hand.
The united shoe laces,
and red eyes,
pretending not to cry.

Love is too heavy for you to
hold, even on the shoulders
that rests the entire world.
In the songs of anguish,
with unassigned chords.

Chewing on your tongue,
to swallow all it's words.
As all you said was in vein.
You felt hidden under the skins
of a plastic face of your nerves.

You and I, try to find ourselves,
as we lose ourselves ever more.
My mind and I are mislaid,
and lost to thought.

She: If I was a worm, would you still love me

Me:- I'd say you wiggled yourself into my life

She: How could I ever make a mark on someone I've so badly fallen in
         love with

Me: Bite me! And by those means, you'll definitely leave your
        mark

i love you-
knowing more than I should;
more than myself would,
of all past loves— that I could,
      ...so what's more of me to prove,
            with only less of myself to lose?

i've tasted doom—
of heartbreak in it's gloom;
i've been swept by love— and broke it's broom,
      ...so what's more of me to prove,
            with only less of myself to lose?

do as you'd like to assume—
dress for the occasion; in fakest love's costumes,
it won't do you good— the sweet scent; dims of it's perfume,
      ...so what's more of me to prove,
            with only less of myself to lose.

for shall we gain—
all the sweetest nothing’s sooth;
be passionate of two youths,
go dancing in the rain— without shoes,
     ...i'll have nothing to prove, less to lose,
           but in truth.. i shall always have you.

In a valley of stories;
both past & present
days of old; days anew:
In a place I call God-
by different names.

Mwari, Nkulunkulu,
Jehovah, and Lord.

And like God,
I witnessed beauty & glory
And like God,
my mouth spoke of creations
And like God, I said:
                   "this is good"

_

In a fleeting moment
when one holds onto a rock,
they feel so invincible...

Yet, if one holds fiercely to their pride,
surely their emotional intelligence
is all but invisible?

                               Invisibly invincible.

And shall the taste of forever be spoken
from His lips,
His thoughts are not of my thoughts;
neither are our ways the same.
He surely rests high above both our thoughts
and our ways. But still on Earth;
he let’s the snows and rains of Heaven come
down to us.
All things bud and flourish.

Yielding seeds to the daily bread,
he has provided.
Never to let me go a night hungry;
for I’ve been given provisions of the day.

In joy; I am led to peace.
In love; His glory I seek.
In words; are blessings He speaks.
And in actions, the love of Jesus is seen in me.

He invites us all;
but only the few will accept the invitation.

I needed a place to rest my weary heart.
unfortunately, I had lost my room key,
so I asked you to spare me a space in your heart,
And you handed me a spare key and welcomed me in.

As I told the clock to wait a second for me,
still ticking off my list of red flags, and making
sure that we were compatible.
As we spent time together, making kisses
as wet as the scales of a fish out of the sea,
But I probably should have waited a little longer,
before I start calling you my catch

I couldn't resist the hook in your eyes.
The first time we made love, I was swimming in
the moisture of your body, deep in my feelings.
I took a break from breaking you open,
to sink my teeth in between your thighs.

And I was pleasantly surprised to find that
you were quite the trumpet blower.
As you found your voice blowing on my horn,
and I was left short of breath in the length of it all.
Despite my shorter stature,
I was tall in all the necessary places.

We spent our time smoking and getting high,
making a printer jealous with the loads
of paper we went through.
But I was always afraid of heights, afraid that
my mask would fall off every time I laid by your side.

As I was taught that love sometimes hurts,
but it hurts even more when you were in love
with someone who was hurting just as much as you.
But with you, I found a place to rest my love
and a spare key to your heart.

In these realms where your gaze lingers, they lie still,
like moss upon ancient seats—what minds dare to welcome
the defeat of a heart, or a soul that invents sweetness?

As her gown unfurls, caressed by the winds of passion,
oh, the trance of a lover newly discovered! Their skins meld
into one, basking in the bliss of a honeymoon beneath the
tender glow of their first moons after their wedding night.

Does time not twist and turn, restless only for those
who toss and turn each night- restless; stranded on the wrong
side of rest? Yet, a new day must grace our faces with its luscious
cherry lips, refusing to relent in casting a foolish brightness
upon our kind, igniting our eyes with its relentless glow.

Oh, would you not yearn to be the lover of the sun; to reflect
its anguish through a pure, innocent light? Your form shrouded
by the gown of clouds, oh sweet beloved—what joy it is to behold
you as you truly are, unadorned this night!

To hope and dream:
IS for us all to believe.
To search and find:
IS to know our desires.
To love and cherish:
IS being raised as such.

A laugh, isn't as loud as a smile-
Laugh in pain;
pain hidden in a smile.
A bellow in our thoughts:
IS  the roar of sorrow.
Feast on today's successes:
IS the regret of tomorrow.

IS a child; whose eyes learn a father,
IS a mouth; that builds a character,
but harsh tongue to destroy them.

IS a child; whose eyes love a mother,
IS a hand; that rests gentle love,
but sparing rod that spoils them.

IS what one man does;
IS so done to another.
And we are; IS to the present;
as IS the will of us all.

Is... it not?

Under the warm embrace of the quilted cover,
A sense of unease did swiftly hover.
The room, dimly lit, cast eerie shadows,
Whispering secrets of the night's unknown.

Then, a chilling sight did capture my gaze,
A pair of red eyes, piercing through the haze.
Fixated on me, they held a haunting stare,
A werewolf's presence, lurking in the lair.

In that moment, my vision turned awry,
A vivid shade of red, painting the sky.
Confusion clouded my thoughts, a tangled mess,
Struggling to grasp this strange distress.

Little did I know, it was my own blood,
Tainting my sight, like a crimson flood.
Before I could react, the beast did pounce,
Sharp teeth sinking in, a painful ounce.

Agony coursed through my trembling frame,
Fighting against the pain, a losing game.
The world around me blurred, darkness embraced,
Consciousness consumed, in shadows erased.

From that horrifying encounter, I learned,
The beast's true nature, cunningly discerned.
Hidden beneath darkness, it did reside,
Just as my blood-stained eyes did misguide.

A harsh reminder, appearances deceive,
The greatest dangers, often concealed, believe.
In plain sight, they patiently await,
A lesson learned, not to underestimate.

Must I tell you, I’ve got a Bag for a mind –
Just to unpack all of my Thoughts: thinking Back
On old plans I had for Myself, I had My thinking
Cap in Reverse

I swallowed a whole lot of Colours to fill
My imagination's belly, from dreaming in Black
And white – now I have a Picture full
By this laughing Spread, I can’t help and smile
While looking at the Ugly things that are
Secretly Beautiful

All my tears are navy Blue; depression in a
Collapsing sea – depending on your own Impression,
What you witness in glee, isn’t what the other will see

A Simpleton must annoy the Complex thinker,
But what if the Easier option for them, makes life
Simple then,

                                                  Is life that simple?

I was sitting by the mailbox waiting on love,  stiff as
a recently washed shirt- sitting on an ironing board
I’m sorry if you catch me in a sour mood, there’s this moody
spirit that let me fall in love with the echoes hitting the wall-
While my voice was shouting at the wind; I could hardly breathe
My lover played a tune with my beard, as if they were guitar strings-
But I couldn’t complain to this lioness, for she’s the roar of a
mistress’s hungry temper

But I still love her so, still from the days of our courtship- and every
night she opens up to me as a suitcase, and I bare the luggage of her
nightly sores, with these bags hanging under my eyes-
I still love her so, as her chatter mouth is like a tap running,
and I’m her sink catching all that gossiping spit-

I still love her so, even as she’s an office desk covered in endless
papers, when she starts to feel like a piece of work-
I still love her so, cos she firstly showed me all of her flaws,
so nothing she does surprises me at all; still she was pleasantly
surprised that I still chose her, to be my wife

Free space, free myself,
to free my mind
I've got some free time,
and a place we could hide
So leave your skins behind.

Free love,
don't waste your time buying it at that corner store
Free entry into my love,
seeing me exposed. Enter if you're brave enough, I left the key by the door.

*** must be a fire,
burning in it's yearn
A desire unlike any other,
burning underneath your skin
   (Just not in vein)
Under the covers, and the night
Who knew this time comes and came
(Shall we do it again?)

Beyond my current state lies a distance
that feels even more distant than my
aspirations. A day of tranquility lives
solely in our daydreams,
beckoning the fragments of my being
to come back, urging my thoughts to
gather once more.

____

I am the void that lingers between the
stanzas of a flawless poem—words that
falter in their imperfection.
My voice is silent, with so much
to say - a paradox that leaves me frozen;
lingering moments before revealing your
vulnerabilities. Oh, the despair!
My faith lies fragmented and adrift—
these whispered prayers sway back
and forth, yearning to hold significance.

____

Do I hold any significance at all,
composed of the very essence of atoms
colliding in a chaotic dance?
"Dissolved," I melt into nothingness,
like ice under the sun, reshaping into
the visage of any soul that touches me,
flowing like water.

          Alas, I seem to be dead again!

wet skin to skin; a tightly gripped kiss - urged lips
that surely wished they had spoken their feelings first,
then to seem like they’re both trying to quench each other’s
thirst. still shivering in my nerves that I’ve grown so lost
for my words – trying to find my identity in your eyes surface
              ...you look too beautiful for me to even claim

it’s my own shame, that sticks on my throat like a smoker’s
cough – though this love sickness is worth the bit of irritation,
of not always knowing what to do when I’m so close to you
                     ...so yes, I held you, and kissed you

but that wasn’t the initial plan; you rested in my arms and I
had my words for you ready and armed – but my hand in it
all had lost its touch. darling this is so much of a rush for
just a simple crush, to us finally going out, more than once
       …I just wish that from the beginning, I had told you,

                                                      “I think I’m in love”

"**** the world,"
seems to be a statement easy enough for a lot of people to say.
And at most we **** mother nature raw, cos we failed to protect her; I just hope we can be more responsible for her baby one day. But I do hear her walls shaking, as her eyes are timid tears blocked behind a lot of smoke.
Maybe we should write for her an SOS as a last hope, and stop feeding our prideful thoughts against her,— food for thought? Truthfully, this first part is more like a representation of how
men tend to **** over their girl.

I guess I should include myself by this second bad serving,
along the lines of me remembering how I used to treat girls like second servings. Some would call a woman sweet, but I'm not convinced of it being a compliment,— more of a dessert thing.
Like how she's supposed to taste sweeter every time you and her kiss, as she's supposed to be a treat, but you had to spoil her. Spoiling yourself by spoiling yourself on her. Careful now, you might have misread what she was saying when she bit her lips.

But by this third part, I tried convince myself not to swear,
still **** it, — I was at this point more annoyed with myself,
as a person who knows they're prone to getting sick
...So they get annoyed with their health. As I fail to have healthy conversations with myself, and reflect on some memories.
But my memories are mostly bad dreams, and bad dreams mostly make up a lot of bad things.
And keeping them to myself means I'll always blame myself more, than wanting to split the blame between friends and family.
And like the second verse,
I now understand the taste of getting a bad serving.
Unfortunately I don't bite my lips as an expression of pleasure. My lips to the taste of failure is always a ******,—so right now, this part is really ******* hurting.

So can somebody please, get this ******* disappointment
off me, before it thinks it's turning me on, but it's close
to offing me.

I'm a psychopath, as I cycle in a path
On life's roller coaster tracks, I lost track of time,
An untimely demise to a Sir married to his prize—a surprise
To come to build a fort around a heart's comfort
Come forth to forgo your old ways; wayward thoughts to
ward my love from running away

Anyway I'm stuck on a dream of yesterday
Trying to make it revelant today
Two days later the latest trends become late
Fashioned state; fashionably late
it's a fashion state of late, when you try to deep fake

Spear your spirits; cuts deep being a Christian
Spearhead, someone with deep thoughts untold wisdom
A little devilish smile into making love,
All the feelings that awkawdly develop
Nothing lasts forever like sugar in a piece of gum
Chewing on your words, and biting your tongue
And if blood tastes like cinnamon; it would be few
to the looks of eyes to see no men. Feeling nearly
the same as a synonym

Another questionable phrase to the praise
of your own son asking you for a raise
We're all living to gain, doing it all again,
and again; in the end it's all a game

3:33 – My clock unwinds in reverse, clinging to the
Vibrant hours of youth; a formidable mistress,
Wielding the greatest dominion upon the day’s wake

So…

Reset your clock to the echoes of yesteryears –
Rest in a past that offers no respite; a maze you’ll never escape
Amaze in the cast of fleeting glances at your own existence,
Entangled in the intricate web of your own perfect maze,
While those above, are retracing our steps upon the parchment
Of this bewildering journey, on the maze’s page.

When the day ends;
you make me wish the sunlight could stay,
Longer hours with you;
we don't spend enough time in the day.

I remember how they laughed at my name,
but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at my accent,
but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at me for crying too much,
but I understand now,

I remember how they laughed at me for being afraid of helicopters and planes, but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at my ideas,
but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at me for being too kind,
but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at my poetry,
but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at how I dressed,
but I understand now,

I remember how they laughed at my smile and ****** expressions, but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at how I walked,
but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at how I spoke to girls,
but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at my relationships,
but I understand,
I remember how they laughed at my successes,
but I understand now,
I remember how they laughed at my youth,
but I understand now,

From friends, to teachers, to family, and strangers;
they all laughed at me. But I understand now.

My only regret,
not being able to tell that younger me,
"they'll all laugh at you for being you. But you need to understand, you'll be the one laughing all about them. Let them laugh now, you'll always get the last laugh on them.

I need you to understand now."

Felt suicidal on the wrong side of suicide,
not wanting to die; but so uncomfortable
being alive. Wearing this human flesh,
I've slept with so many with my eyes peering
it's imaginations of all desires under a dress.
Lustful thoughts always left me so **** depressed.

I USED TO BE SUICIDAL

Likewise with liking a girl, never taught
how to truly love. Never focused on the looming
dark backgrounds; as my eyes focused on stars.
I'd shoot them down, with the same gun to **** myself,
wishing it doesn't jam this time. Look closely;
to the burn marks of my tongue, not being just bite scars.

I USED TO BE SUICIDAL

I once put a knife to my chest at ten years old,
"I can take my life at any given," telling myself
casually in bold. Must of been an angel holding that
knife back; before my body went cold.

I USED TO BE SUICIDAL

In my teen years; these crazy headaches and
mixing pain killers for the numbing pleasure,
Thinking if I never woke up, it would ease
the echoing ringing of my head's pressure.
I felt the reasoning of being; being alive, being
strong, being present; getting lesser and lesser.

I USED TO BE SUICIDAL

Wanting to drive at 120km/h off the road,
either crashing into a wall, or doing a couple rolls,
Losing my vision while driving, or losing the car's
controls. Or bashing into one of the streetlight poles.

I USED TO BE SUICIDAL

If maybe the roof fell over my head where I lay,
crossing with an armed thief on an unlucky day,
A drunk driver speeding my way, or a brain
cancer to leave my mind to decay.

I USED TO BE SUICIDAL

I've just changed that statement nowadays to:

I DON'T WANT TO BE SUICIDAL TODAY

A tackle with the wind, a tackle with
these modern day kids. Good grief,
as I used to be; childish cares gone in the wind.

A mud crack on a leaf, to leave a
sound of mud cakes I'd make. Under the sun,
till dusk had set; using it's heat to bake.

A first kiss by a door, both parents a few
rooms away to get caught. Curiosity gained
from movie love scenes; tasting the worth.

A bicycle pedal, cycling carelessly. So freeing
to be allowed to ride up and down streets. But
we were young boys of trouble; disturbing the peace.

A stanza getting longer, words can't fit. And like
my mother buying oversize clothing. Barely fitting
in; whether in crowds or clothes in the surrounding.

A procrastinator, in doing first good. Lazy to decisions
of no self benefits. At a time only wanting a final gain
in rewards; you'd expect from growing a little penniless.

A grown boy now, a man faced in the mirror. A face of time
and the lessons experienced. Truly I've seen how much I've
grown; I've grown so much to shed a tear.

A story of growth as you read.

As in this night,—
Under the moon's calm glow,
I found a sweet Jasmine,
Riverbeds of colour resting in flow.
She's mine of great beauty,
Mine of owning my last hoodie.
A jasmine flower of my incapacitated,
Do you understand my love to you so?

Far as it appears. You are here;
You are near,— Of a white day,
Peace being a ballet display.
Constantly dancing in my eye,
Capturing all of sight.
I held on; holding on longer,
As long in your shortest life.

Oh Jasmine, I failed to make out of you a wife.

Amidst the echoes of a victorious romance, would you seek me?
In its subtle notes, I harbour every grievance, silently measuring
you against the passions of pasts, the ardour I once knew with
those I loved. The heat of your lips ignites a longing within me,
a rich Cyprus wine that awakens my very soul.

My skin bears the marks of disdain — a fallen star I proclaim,
for those who yearned for genuine love, yet bared their desires
to the world. The sincere man allowed each kiss to belong to its
rightful muse, while a desirous gaze conjures love born solely
from jealousy.

The eyes, those envious masterpieces of humanity, without
a doubt.

At level best; degress, it's a little more stress
Swallowed my words into an opinionated self digest
Throwing out my heart, throwing pride off my chest
I'm about to throw up—ugh I'm so depressed

My usual visual suicide; thoughts about dying young
I could never afford the cost, from the tears of my mom
And the fears of my dad thinking he never did enough
Searching deep in my insides, for the guts to commit
to that first cut. My fingers ticking from anxiety;
at random times of a pendulum clock
Swinging, and swinging, in deep thoughts swimming
And I wasn't that holy type; not as much as my mom
—unless you consider the holes in my socks
Social degenerate; a little too generous: careless giving
Seasoned professional of a winter heart, with a homely
fire place of love

But let me check my mental state,
Territory of all my made up states,
Stating an expression of his face; or so he said
So many questions on my mental state:

How is your mental state,
             "oh not so great"

Thinking about suicide today,
 "yeah; it's basically everyday"

Do you trust yourself around a knife,
  "a sharp pen makes me think twice"

Did their joking words hurt you again,
    "always; especially my close friends"

Is it all green emeralds, or a pink diamond life,
         "just the envy, and blushing over suicide"

Had you cut yourself at least once before,
"close I got, was scraping myself with a
                                bathroom stone"

Yeah that's not right...

But the words cut me to explain this pain,
I have a ****** tongue; stuck at just another fullstop
Round the corner of a fool's stop; perhaps on the run
Heading nowhere, from places I never knew I'd come
—to these terms of agreement; writing realistically
of feeling fearless. Might of misjudged my feelings

Drinking over until the night is over,
Alcohol bravery to say things I can never say being sober
At home going all out with friends; woke up naked in my bed
Couldn't remember a thing, still it feels good to pretend.
Prayed a hot sweat; couldn't asked for forgiveness out of breath
Not as good as having ***—I wouldn't know how, trying to explain
those kind of past events. Still it feels good to pretend

Lord don't save me from myself,
Save those around me, from dealing with another
version of myself. My secret multiple personality traits
                                  ...Jesus; forgive my mental state

I see the stars of the night; in the days of your eyes,
The winds behind mountains; in the power of your voice,
The ways to wisdom, in the words you once spoke,
The songs of promise, in the desires you've now fulfilled,
The provisions of daily, in the bread you've provided.

I've longed for love; that this world can't provide,
Tasted of all it’s things; that are sour to my spirit,
And lived in the world; despite being it's visitor.

I'm not of this world; for I know this is true.
I'm not of this world; for I know of YOU.

As of my shepherd; I shall not want,
As of my green pastures; lead beside still waters,
As of my restoration; lead in paths of righteousness.

                                        He is my all, my Jesus Lord.

Says,
love is only for fools.
Says,
love is a game without any rules.

Really love is,
a precious treasure, worth more  than jewels.

falling shadows
howling holes—heart's chasm
gaps in teeth, bites of time
in the cavity of a mouthful successes

written in a journal of fears
not to fear death, but a death of dreams
not to fear easy give, but to easily give in
not to fear tomorrow, but a yesterday's repeat
to pen my thoughts, penning words at fault
                   ....my poetry is a journal of fears

Through the ashy clouds, what can I see deep in my eyes,
Feelings of old, times of new, sounds of truths shading shadows of lies.
A moment in a heart to cause a second of earthly breathe,
To hear the sounds of regret, yet to see beyond that, flashing lights of new hope in depth.

As the stars shine across a thousand galaxies, planets and worlds a like,
Men and women  would shine across each others lives for the mountains we all must hike.
Give them hope to themselves you shining star of a glowing wonderous night.
For who truly sees any man's foreshadow lest they shinning in your one true light.

Cast the shadows of this world to the places far beyond.
Free from what our hands can grab hold to reach, farewell my troubles, best be heading along.

Yonder as far as your mind could take you, get lost in your dreams,
Get back to the place back to where it all began, close your ears from the sounds of all your doubtful screams.
Tell us what you've found, show us all your blessings and greatest wins,
Shall we all celebrate with you as you complete your journey, celebrating our humble glories as if we were humble Kings and Queens.

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.

Serenade a tune to all my
troubles and fears,
Singing till the sun is setting
down on them all.
Singing, goodbye, goodbye,
surely in deed.
I'm a sinking ship,
but I still know how to breathe.

Certainly misfortunes knows
well the misfortunate.
How could anymore misfortunes
follow me now?
I don't have anymore tears
to cry about problems keeping me down.
I just paint a smile,
laughing about it just like a clown.

Dancing away till I lose my steps,
misstep my reasons to worry.
Even knowing the entire future,
makes counting down the days you have left.
I'm in no rush to my death,
why should I hurry.

If the Heavens above me,
want me knocking at the gates till noon,
They'll send me a ticket,
if they want me arriving home soon.

So let me sing a tune,
caring not of the world's troubles.
One day it may crash and tumble,
But it shouldn't take me down
that glorious rumble.

July babies, falling in the
atmosphere of a beauty's sight

In a line, a straight answer to say
you're so beautiful

But as usual, a beautiful sight causes
a man to lose his words

To sell his worth
to afford the confidence to talk to you

But as usual, the fool struck by beauty;
is lightning striking twice

...so all he can say is,

"hey you look really nice"

You cherish me merely as a coin — always anticipating change,
you seek me out only when it’s time for heads, chasing after tail.
I’ve been tossed about by you countless times; my feet now bear
the weight of my head. Say you love to call me, “mine,” yet
you handle me like a mere dime tucked away in your pocket –
only reaching for me when your hands are empty of anything
else to own- and pass me around like a debt you owe.

Beloved, your touch is far chillier than all the jealousy that
exists in this world. I'm just a cold coin to you.

Warming up to it,
up and down strokes from the neck.
Pulling away the essence of you,
in the moment I don't hate these cigarettes.

Just a little stressed out today.

Line a few shots,
bullets of your strongest brandy.
Giving all I got,
truthfully I don't love the drink that gladly.

Just a little stressed out today.

Let me have a taste of a body,
acting if I can solve my problems with ***.
Sure in the moment I'm giving my best,
straight afterwards I ask myself what's next?

Just a little stressed out today.

Lock my eyes on the many screens,
that I even forget to blink.
Wishing I could live their lives,
not too long, just for a week.

Just a little stressed out today.

Why must I run to coping mechanisms,
doing in my head at times?
Not trying to live up to the hype,
but out here believing the lies.
I know I'm stressed out sometimes,
but those sort of things aren't my life.

But I'm still just a little stressed out today.

"It's just another guy"
so you say; still you're spoken for
But who's to say a guy won't at least try

"It's just another guy"
so you say, that cracks you up by
a glass of fragile jokes cutting me by your response,
We'd both be jealous of the other making you smile

"It's just another guy"
so you say, when he licks his lips
Lubricating his lies, like I did to convince you
I wasn't jealous,- you still noticed something was amiss

"It's just another guy"
so you say, as you pretend to be friends
It all starts like that, a friendly compliment here
and there, the same way I said it when we started as friends

"It's just another guy"
so you say, till I also become just another guy
I'm told I'm overdramatic, in over my head,
but when you fall in love with someone else
Would you ask him or me why

"It's just another guy"
so you say, and I'm just a dog acting ******
Still a dog marks his territory, and if I marked
you with my heart; I did so with aim, to not miss
on making you my Miss

"It's just another guy"
so you say, but you can still treat a day like ****
Wasting your time talking about him,
as I fake a ****** smile that makes me feel like ****

The truth is,
I was once just another guy that stole
you first, from just another guy
And karma is a mistress that works in a cycle,
and I'm forced to comply to her this second time

I'm just a frame of reality,
painted by the harsh brush strokes of life,

Black and white;
the grey areas are just the many things
I don't know- or try to paint over with just my words

                                         I'm just a poem!

And of course,
it's not actually real.
But why must the sweetest of things
only be in our dreams?

To see of life
through looking glass
Seems to show all it's cracks
Fragile,
is man on heavy words
Sinners of course,
a forefather's forced labour of sin into birth.

Still as precious gold,
time is of worth
Treasured memories
of course remain in our hearts.
Lifes not perfect,
but could be close to it with just a smile.