Christmas nets to catch
my wishes,
Christmas lights to see
it all
Christmas angels to give
me wings.

Just to fly away
and catch all my dreams.
Just to fly away
and let them light my way.

If I don't live tomorrow
let me live today.
Though I know much sorrow
my gift is knowing it's all going to be okay.

Okay...

Finding my ****** expressions without makeup,
Fixing my heart when girls say, "let's just break up,"
Figuring out my next steps when things start to shake up,
But I really get annoyed by the nice people we meet; saying,
"let's just f**k"

Oh what is this life; and what am I living for?
Giving all the pieces of your life, but it always wants some
more. As I'm senseless to the less sense of my interests to
my less cents. So reckless to my repentance; and a wreck to
all of life's pressures.
Weighing myself down on all it's measures. How to be strong
with yourself, with all of these offered pleasures?
But we all know nothing lasts forever. Still a chance of having
it now, could make things feel a little better.

Okay...

Still the lover; longing for a love to actually love,
Stuck with food for thoughts; but it feels like my wisdom
is still keen to starve,
Searching all of the skies, for all of my answers from the above,
Scheming on all of my luck to success; with the few of my cards,
But the game of life is always so hard.

Okay...

Where am I going, in these night trips to nowhere,
Who knows their final destination, only after their death's despair,
Why is life this constant carnival game, paying a fair to being
so unfair,
When do I show face to face my challenges, if I dare?

And this is all the okay to the okay, the day after today. Two
days into choices of Tuesdays. But no matter the day;
it's always a battle to just seem okay.

And that's okay...

The turning dials of that old car radio,
Metallic, as the rubber coverings fell
off. What had once protected, lost by
the twisting of that radio's lifespan.

In a car, old as it's manufacturers who
are all dead,
Her strength is still strong on this long
journey to the bigger city.
I fiddle through that plastic box of old
cassette tapes. My finger picking out a
title to fill the radio's mouth. To fill it up with
so much music; that it's old speakers *****
out noise.

Choking the engine of the car's battery,
the lights on the gauges flicker,
And I pull over the side of the road,
it's dark outside and cold. Not of the night
but of the music's chords.

I'm alone.

Waiting for a stranger to stop by,
and jumpstart my car. But only a God,
could jumpstart my heart.
As I reminisce on what it felt like being in
love. A station I had once tuned into,
with all it's cheesy love songs. And their
catchy hooks.

I miss the sound of the music.

A small car pulls up beside me. Yellow
as the sunflower open to the sun.
Bright as a smile; of someone you're glad to
see. 'How long has it been,' you'd ask them.

The window went down;
as a girl with a smile greeted me only by a gaze.
'Do you need help stranger,' she asked.

'Help with a lot of things, I doubt you could
come up to. But you're welcome to try,' my
heart replied.

I nodded slightly, hoping this could be
a quick fix. The quickest way for me out
of a conversation.

But my car was dead.

The stranger offered me a ride to the next town,
to grab a mechanic. I reluctantly agreed.
And before I hopped in that box Sunny,
I had to grab my plastic case of cassettes.

She seemed keen on what contents I had
at hand. Insisting I put a tape inside her radio.
'Hey that's my favourite band,' she said.

I never smiled as real in that moment,
than I ever did before.
With so much in common, we fed our ears
on good music, with our similar tastes.
Making it to the next town, I gave my
thanks.

Not expecting much back.

'Here's my number. We should hang out sometime
to listen to some good music.
I'll trade you my number for a couple of tapes,'
she said.

She drove off leaving me with a smile,
a number, and a reason for them both. As I
wondered where next this story would go...

I'd love to tune into that.

What a pity for the burn of your love — a toothless fire;
we started so strong, but now we struggle to ignite,

I suspected as much — for a boneless smile; just
pretending to be so kind for all those squandering
moments by following their own misguided advice.

The hollowness of your eyes leaves a bitter aftertaste,
on my mind — such a hopeless fire. So helpless to stoke
the flame; yet, one that I can’t deny still resonates with
your name, so we title it simply, as us just being
friends.

Love be the nearest, love be the furthest.
I see an ***, doing the donkey work of to be earnest.
The self identifying; of those among truly purposed.
A garden of roses in carousel; rowing around a carnival park,
Ice cream stains, candy moustaches, brands tomorrow's marque.
People giving loose handshakes; lost it's grip to their love. Their once true love,—
Of all the hateful glaring eyes looking down on us. And what they told us, to then give up.

But love in the nearest? Is of things I hold closely.
As in it's furthest; are those coldest nights I feel so lonely.
Like bare toes inside of the snow; their feet are too cold to move.
Which of my souls do I anticipate to be holy or holey; of my old red shoes?
Glaring, teasing, laughing, shaking, commenting, and pointing,
I expect of others looking at them,— judging my worth at these worthless red shoes.

For a love had. I walked the nearest. And too walked the furthest.

Feels like the first time, we ever really kissed,
shooting my shot, and I knew I wouldn't miss.

Cause I, need to take a moment, while I find my composure,
cause I write my feels when I feel the moment.
And no I'm not joking, everyone lies, but I preferred when you lied to me closer.

And though it may seem things are over,
growing out of love by the days I get older.
Still I hope the feeling of love never turns over.

I mess up sometimes, my goes messy,
I'm scarred for anyone to come undress me.
Cause I know what's inside, lot of things I hide underneath my pride,
but I know everybody has days to cry.

O' My,
why do I feel this way.
O'My,
I've been only feeling strange in every way,
O'My.

I **** up a lot of smoke inside my lungs,
and no it's not a joke, I feel kinda dumb,
thought you were one, but love ain't for everyone.
O'My.

But given this time I find myself before I find new love,
and not by the end of my wealth do I fall in love again,
O'My.

Goodbye, have a great time,
see me outside so alive while I'm dying inside.
Still really never find. Given this this time,
I'll find something when I leave this all behind.

O'My.

The wettest of love written out of my black
fountain pen. I’ve got hearts to spend,
customs to save, and not a lot of people to blame.

Oh what a shame, in this love’s long game,
starting off as friends, good remarks,
All into permanent scars; how haven’t we
come as far?

Oh I wonder how to slow down, to keep on
searching for something not yet around.

Love!

Oh where do I search, with the possible heartbreaks
that seem to lurk? Cut and burnt, soon after I had
my first.

Love letters into ashes, ashes into the dust,
scratched out names, nails turning into rust.

Pinned down by the wrists; to hold onto pain,
crosses are instead exes. Restless, into resting
soundly in my death.

In over my head, thoughts are covering
my shame. I’m waiting patiently after all,
to fall in love.

Once again.

Put away your glass eye, and you'll see just how delicate you truly are. Your mind may be sharp, but please, don't gaze
upon my chest and leave me with another scar.
Allow me to demonstrate the foolishness of being madly
in love, when you constantly say, "you run miles on my mind,"
but truthfully I need you to first find that path.

As we compare ourselves to the past, time refuses to wait
for us. We can't spend too much time second-guessing,
as everything comes to pass, and even when I feel irritable,
it all falls so short in my very face.
But hey, life is too tall, and I can't afford to fall so quickly from grace. Still, even when I express my gratitude, it seems to
be the only most answered prayer. Still I pray to protect you from the preying eyes of the world, like the many wolves lurking in the shadows. Every man has an instinct to hunt, but I could never sense their intentions with my own cold nose.

Some days, I yearn to touch your skin as gently as I touch
the sky, always hopeful for tomorrow.
I want to witness every petal of tears that fall from your eyes, reminding me that you are my precious flower. I must protect and guard, while leading with the energy of a man who is still learning, but also in charge.

Yet, life as I know it feels like a stubborn plug in the wall, refusing to give in even when I'm on the verge of burning out. Unlike an angry dog, I may drool, but it's not a pretty sight
at all. Beautiful thoughts only seem to exist in the corners of darkness. Perhaps a single kiss from you will ignite a spark of love, even if it only comes in fleeting sparkles.

Bur don't indulge in my darkness, for the void is filled with nothingness that will make you starve.
But let me gather the courage to say, "I like you," before
I can muster the strength to call you my love.
But then again, what is love: an awkward word, one that carries a multitude of emotions and sensations that delicately tickle underneath the surface of our skin. It can be a rollercoaster
of feelings, sometimes even getting on our nerves. Picture love
as an unlikely image, framed within the memories of one being so, so afraid to talk to girls.

Imagination, on the other hand, is a powerful faculty of the mind. It is an untamed force that can conjure up vivid and extraordinary scenarios, but it can also be harnessed and controlled by a trained mind. Love, however, is a different story. It is wild, unpredictable, and capable of leading us off track when our feelings can no longer hide.

Love is like a tempestuous storm, capable of stirring our hearts passionately and altering the courses of our lives. It knows no boundaries and can ignite an intense and overpowering flame within us. But playing with your match won't be so wise; playing with fires. Love can make us feel vulnerable and exposed,
as if the mere thought of interacting with the opposite ***
could send us spiraling into a spiral of anxiety and self-doubt.
Pricking at my heart, while I go around picking up another rose.

Still when it comes to true love, I never have enough words...
so perhaps that justifies me to say I'm in love,— being lost
for words. Or course that goes against the laws; if love ever
had them at all.
You could live by forever, but truthfully forever will always
be so far away,— so we'd just have this moment where we stay.
And one day, someday or even a Monday, love won't lack
the passion, and making me feel so mundane. But I'll only
know when I fall in love one day.

Please call me back,
written message in the network's text. I don't have
enough airtime; so I'll borrow some. Knowing it's
not the best—in the fact of being underpaid.
I haven't been paid this month, so it's still a dream
of moving house. The funds are never enough,
but just tuck shop money, and a gin allowance for a
couple laughs.

But I'll call you soon.

7.50, left in my bank account. Maybe I could
pull out six to make the call. Insufficient funds to
complete this transaction, the screen read in bold.
Feeling insufficient, sufficiently to say I've worked my due.
If I had a girlfriend; which place could I take her to,
and what would we do? As I'm broke and empty on funds
and dreams in my pocket. While driving past the mansions
of my two bosses.

But I'll call you soon.

I'm running out of rhymes, without any airtime
to Google new ones on Rhymezone. So I'm just
staring at the phone, hoping you make the repeating call.
I missed it the first time you beeped me, knowing I was
feeling tearful in my room alone. I must have been so focused
on staring at the pictures on the wall, to hear your call.

But I'll call you soon.

As both of my lines have pending debts, and I'm not
keen on borrowing  money to have debts with friends.
But in the end—your fun size pride rarely cares.
Still the anxiety of not making an effort to call back,
pushes a reason to swear. To pull my hairs, struggling
on why—why I can't return your call. As if I don't care
at all.

But I do; I'm just fighting to call you soon. Unfortunately
in the end; I never had the chance to support you my
friend. I never returned that call, and it's doing in my head.

It's an unfortunate one missed call.

The stars aren’t so innocent;
Those surrounded in the twilight's dark
But when they all die off,
Who really witnesses their final spark?

They live in harmony, though with death –
As I stare at them following their emptiness;
If I must fall out of place, I’ll embrace that fate
Like a shooting star, taking the task with gladness;
Neither entering nor departing, a dark breath,
That quietly escapes out of my collapsed chest.

While my skin dissolves into dirt –
The very cradle of humanity’s birth;
My wet tears will burn scars upon my cheeks –
Never truly separated from things; but also,
never attaining the true meaning of peace.

                                      I’m all but a piece.

These closed eyes;
in all these unfamiliar times as it seems.
Closed doors, and shut curtains
over these once outside dreams.

Even when I'm out;
these fears have my mind in quarantine.

Sneeze!

Someone did so in front of me.
Without their bent elbow;
I was quickly thinking about the old ones
back home, of my family.

Never thinking I could lose count
of all those loved ones I've lost.
Not all through a pandemic,
but because of it;
a natural death hurts a lot.

Seems I've used up all the tears;
to cry out for another loss.

Sniff!

Only afterwards, you realize you didn't
spend time with them for that long.
All when their already gone,
but you still sing the memories like
a nostalgic song.

Cough!

Clearing my throat;
the heaviest heart I had to swallow.
So light of how lightly we take today.
You may not wake up to the bright day
of another tomorrow.

The beauty of life can easily
fade to whither like a flower.

How long do we really have;
counting your life on two open hands?
Praying for the Lord's eternal life's piece,
and it feels like he won't meet those demands.
You may feel your ideas starting to
hate the ways of his plans.

Lord I don't understand!

I just write down the questions;
in a list, on a scroll,
and bury the paper deep inside my soul.
The opening question being,
"was it you or the devil, sometimes in control"

Only in the heavens...will I know.

Sleep in between lips,
only for a kiss,
we both admit and submit,
to ignorance being bliss.

Hands on hips,
holding onto parts I miss,
under Christmas lights,
in New year's eve,
you're my resolution's gift.

A star above my head,
a lonely child's wish,
only a Lord could give,
lying in the courts of love,
a case put to rest by deceit,
when we argue and go to sleep.

To then wake up
and repeat.

The journey back is always
shorter than the one going.
The simple joy of it all,
is not always knowing
But rather taking in the sceneries,
and all the beauty it's showing.

He bled and shed,
a crown of thorns upon his head.
A price greatly to be paid,
death yearned for us by our sins
But Christ Jesus took our places instead.

Wine of his blood,
bread his body.
Bruised and scarred,
He went through it all, for he greatly loved me.

All that should be on your mind,
SHOULD BE ME!
But I'm really just kidding.
Really when you think of me,
you should feel FREE!

FREE to be who you are,
FREE to be as you were meant to be.
FREE to speak your mind,
darling let me hear what you think.
FREE to be loved fully,
my lover, to be freely loved by all of me.

Or be it so- I was lost in your eyes grand gardens
taking done a couple fieldnotes; be it a couple ideas
of me imagining ourselves as couple of old love notes

Being cherished love letters, timeless and tender
under the glow of city lights, even when your lips
appear slightly troubled, envious of the brilliance that
surrounds you

I’ve come to take note of my love phases, needing to
be rephrased- finding a new means of expressing my
feelings to someone so new in my life

Sweetheart, let your heart be an open book, and I will
be the unique tale that unfolds just for you, revealing
every chapter of my essence.

The atmosphere surrounding us after our first kiss, felt so heavy —
Her energy is thick, her smile is as smooth as the finest silk,
The desire of her eyes burns me, peering deeply into my eyes.

I'm blind in love...

Yet, I still hope to see our future together —
I hoped as much, but that hope has become a past pleasure;
I still treasure those dear moments we shared: it was fun to smile,
A joy to love, and a dream being lost in that enchanting fantasy,
Of hoping patiently, someone could be your potential future wife.

I'm no longer blind in love...

For she helped me find a piece of myself, reshaping the rhythm —
Of my heart, to remind me that I never once lost its spark,
Oh, the joy of having loved, the sorrow of having lost;
But the greatest gain, was holding onto the feeling of love itself.

Thank you, for it was you who opened my eyes!

Do as you thrive,
-Oops,
I must of seen the temptation in your eyes,
While catching a bit of summer in your smile
****, never thought it could be much brighter
Inside;- still for a while, I'll give it all a second chance,
Having you for seconds, in time and a meal of love
Still I'll put you first, grinding my gears in my mind
I'm always a better takeoff in second

-Wait, wait,
Don't you ever rush me to say, "I love you"
That's a bit of a touchy subject, for someone who hasn't
Been touched in a while. But it's good of you, to touch
Me on my left side, which is the right side for an honest smile

Honestly,
I'm not looking to be your next guy, the other guy, the new guy,
Or even at least YOUR guy,- just call me a friend, for being perfect
Friends at the start; give me some time to get a little close to you
I'm still opening up my heart

This is an opening of an open
conversation of a mind.
Opening the mouth to speak,
just not open to pour out lies.

As with an open heart,
opens the way to your soul.
Don't leave it so open to things
that you fully don't know.

We ask God to open a way,
but don't openly take it.
Some aren't open to change,
rather only open to the one they want.
So like an open call,
it seems to only be an act.
Too many play into things we're not,
openly falling into the consequences of that.

So I've openly written you all
a piece of my heart,
Perhaps to open your eyes,
hoping all are open to see.
I can't say this is an open file,
I'm just opening up as me.

Open to your own opinion,
and what you have to say.
Maybe add your own opinion,
something you're open to convey.

If you jumped out of Heaven, how far would you fall,
to go through this hell for love. How far would you go?
Having all of the questions, but less of the answers.
More of the hard lessons, than you got from classes.

And how you see the world, depends on the shade of your glasses. When everyone is a slave to their mind, the thoughts being their masters.

A pretty dancer, at night, you seem so free when
you are out of sight. Out of the minds of judgement's view,
the only time you can be you. They've haven't known us for as long, to say that it's true. That we all could walk the same mile in the same shoes.

But I have nothing to prove,
but maybe to myself. That I could be anything; not relienent
on wealth. To take care of me, I'll be taking care of my health. And I could do all these things if I said so, but this everyday I live, drives me close to losing my mental.

But I'm open to ideas, like this opening verse.
So if you have advice, on how to keep me away from being
at my worst. I'd appreciate if you could spare a couple caring words. At least open up, to my opening verse.

Sighing memories washing over me in the flow of a deep
blue sea, — my skin glimmers with the love of the sun, but its
affection is too overwhelming; my tears cascade, transforming every
ground beneath my feet, into an ocean the moment I step outside.

Please don’t crash into me as if I were an unguarded entrance –
the outside world hammered at the door of my heart, demanding to
be let in by any open conversation — but it takes more time for me
to open up.

Those open scars, raw and untended, are like emotional
whirlpools, dragging me down into the abyss of pain and sorrow.

Oppression.
Often life felt oddly close to that,  toying with your mind became it's obsession.
Yet today I'll tell myself that I surely can't have everything,
If I never felt how it feels to have nothing.
Just to take that nothing,
Like the poor common man who takes it to dream of something.

More or less the same,
I'll still find hope and joy in your name.
Though we never met in person  for you died for all my guilts and sins  on that dying wood.
You still gave me the eyes to see all the bad and sense in them some good.

Yet time flies past me,
Though my days seem so down and broken. When I'm blinded, unable to see.
Just call out for me to hear your only true voice as the Shepard calling out to his sheep.
Trusting in your judgement of  this long path I walk,  to sow my seeds and reap.

Take the oppression away,
Till I'm fully empty, to be filled only by you. Each day by day.
Love me as you always have though I've sometimes lost the plot,
For you still keep me safe in your arms and you surely all I need and got.

I never heard much of love playing in my ear;
as I've never heard David's secret chord to the Lord.
The melodies of affection and adoration never caressed
my ears or resonated within my soul. The sweet symphony
of love's harmonies, like the ethereal hymns sung by angels,
were foreign to my senses.

Sitting beneath the orange hues of a radiant sunset,
I found solace under the sheltering branches of an orange tree.
The soft caress of its delicate leaves brushed against my cheeks,
a gentle reminder of nature's embrace.

It felt as if love itself had taken a bite into the core of my being, leaving me intoxicated with its sweetness.
With every gulp of life, it filled me with an abundance of
emotions, leaving me speechless in its presence.

As I peeled away the layers of my pride, surrendering to
the vulnerability of love, it felt as if my very
skin was shedding, revealing the raw essence of my soul.
Like the strings of a guitar that linger in your mouth after a
heartfelt melody, love entangled my words, weaving
a intricate web of emotions that silenced me in its grasp.
The profundity of love was a force that rendered me
speechless, for words seemed insufficient to express its
depth and magnitude.

Yet, from above, a divine intervention occurred,
painting the sky with a vivid tapestry of orange hues.
It was a visual feast, a breathtaking experience to witness
the perfect alignment of colors and light. Floating amidst
the vastness of the heavens, this celestial swirl of orange
was a testament to the magnitude of love, a display of its
boundless beauty.

Within the ever-rotating circle of this enchanting spectacle,
I discovered an unparalleled love.  An elusive concept in this imperfect world, true and perfect love revealed itself to me.

It was a love beyond human comprehension, a love that
transcended all notions of imperfection.
This divine love, the love of God, illuminated my path
and transformed my perception of what love could truly be.

Programmed ideas, words begin to echo AI — quiet intelligent;
in a realm where outsmarting will take you out; once you
outshine those above you; you define the term of being so Anti.

Anti the world, where courage is deemed too bold — keep those
ideas to yourself, shave off the top – be bald. Even as you try to
say things so daring, that if feels like a bold choice; speaking your
mind won't be so clear without an influential voice.

Your existence seems tangled and wild; so out of order —I question
if a miracle isn’t served, would I question an angel for missing
the order. And if to not adhere to good people's orders, this very
breathing would feel like a crime — every moment caught up in
life would just be a show of Law and order.

But I doubt you’d excuse my aura for being so out of order –
we often craft justifications to the world’s chaos, as a service
to uphold a semblance of some order.

This pain I speak of, it all comes in spasms
My walls crumble on themselves- gripping,
Tightening, constricting and then discharging

Oh how this life once filled me with pleasure,
A rush of excitement towards coming days
Touching the most sensitive parts of me
A pleasant pleasure of riding the little waves
In coupled desire and hunger, a peaceful
Ecstasy to my Divine

Now it has slowed down on itself
Accelerating on top of my angsts
For what was once the idyllic tingles in my toes;
Is now a feeling of anxiousness-
I have such cold feet

A pain of pleasuring in the company of pain
This is my self-inflicting prison
And its escape is maiden to me- a ******
In the penitentiary of this world’s *******

Why do I allow this world to leave holes in me?

And every time you and I;
       kiss, kiss,
The space in our tongues go;
       hiss, hiss.

In the moment;

I'm amiss to the bliss,
forgetting all our conflicts.

As the snake in our words,
slithers out of our lips...

What kind of love is this?

We've bitten into the desires of lust, fears, and peers.
Such is an apple;
you and I darling, couldn't resist.

How do lips,
closely rhyme with kiss;
Yet the tongue;
in between makes a hiss,
I do wonder;
did we both submiss?

In a frantic search for my gaze,
searching my eyes just to love me- you never
truly found me in all my vibrant colours;

I apologize for the worst version of me,
that I always gave to my past lovers- I apologize
for not seeing you in all of your perfect colours;

We could have painted a beautiful picture
together.

She’s sweeter than a grapevine – she only whines around flavours
of great wine. Her body is feminine divine; you could title her
as a song – still too hard to define. Would I deny, the place she
lingers, in the thoughts of an artist’s ***** mind?

But maybe I’m just too down to earth – less than down bad, but
searching deep to hold your flower at a hand’s worth. Right next
to me, the heat of your body gives out such warmth. And in place
of new words, ones I never shared with old girls – your sweet
honey lips make mine appear as bees, that have you swarmed.

Alley hearts; we're two pieces of love on such a narrow path. I should
narrow it down; the many times I seen your tears running down your
cheeks, as if life was running you a bath. But I have you by the hand,
to walk into the future, with the past’s lessons and where love began.

The journey begins right here!

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?

Outside these parts
I believe there's a man
His name to world seems foreign
And he is who I am.

Outside these parts
He tried to fit in the mouth of the crowd
But they spat him out for his ego couldn't match theirs of loud.

So as the time grew he grew into himself
Choosing to be alone for people weren't good for his health.

Outside these parts he tried to find a place
But everything in the world tries to take up any space.
So he found it best to run in the life's race
For maybe at the finish line he'd find a type of embrace.

This man shows kindness
But the world takes it as an opportunity
When those do him wrong he sees any hate towards them in only blindness.

He called it maturity.

But many make him feel like his manhood is of small
The things they subconsciously do put obstacles in his way to make him fall.

Outside these parts
The man grows cold and warms his heart in a place of retreat
He comes back to care for the same people who hurt him, though they do such things on repeat.

He falls under no class, he tries to be unique
When people speak out of loud and high ego, he chooses not to speak.

But not to seem better than everyone else
For he hopes to the one to help find  calm from their large prideful statements.
For he's invested in their health.

So much so that he forgets his own.
Till his strength leaves him
To only get it once more when stays out alone.

Outside these parts I know a man, he and I the same
We share a name
Having a wild heart at times but finding ways to make tame.

I am him and he is I
As we both live outside these parts.

Skipping stones, and skipping rope
while skipping past all the cringy memories
All from the days of skipping a few classes,
sometimes skipping ahead in movies to the exciting scenes
As all the time feels like it's skipping away at the pace of
these days,

—Death in the end, has nobody in this life to skip

People do take off their shoes
to walk all over you,

Loved ones do take off their shoes
to cross your mind,

Things do take off their shoes
to be running thoughts,

Dreamers do take off their shoes
to get a step ahead,

And the brave ones do take off their shoes
to always stand out.

I much take off my shoes
to be outstanding.

Let me give a personal measure
to myself;- the ruler isn't long enough
But by the rules of society,
I might be overcompensating,
so I'll have to break them both in half

Feeling extra nervous, when my phone battery hits
forty-four. Feeling low at the half points of my soul,
Train of thoughts burning all of the last coals. Fossil fuels,
going into being extinct. Less than active when I take so
long to blink. So over a thought, but only after I over think.

Did I set that alarm, the daily one I always check before bed.
“I hope tomorrow I don’t wake up dead,“ hasn’t that phrase
been over said? Who really cares, and why do the corner eyes
of stranger’s have such awkward stares? Glares of my glaring
insecurities, usually when I’m treating my flaws with such cruelty.

Disciplinary, proceedings brought forth to the circles of self
beatings on my every worth. Could never describe myself with
just a single word. I’m bent over myself on a road of life, with
the longest curve.

Where am I heading, when it feels like seven seconds close to
Heaven. All the blessings in a straw nest of Christians still
nestling. Going against the world, and t.v. screen’s weaponry.
Bang, bang, boom! We cares about doom, just take it as nothing,
and quickly move.

Onto the very next thing, and trend. Do what the t.v. says,
playing the longest game of Simon says. Like wrestling bears.
That’s a very short fight of pulling hairs. Ha! Being bold to being
bald.

There I go again over thinking ahead of my next thought.
Butterfly fishing, for the wings of a wet slippery effect, I soon
never caught.

By the way, my phone is at forty-one. Rushing to put it on
charge all night for morning’s fun. It wasn’t charging at all.
Well, don’t I feel so dumb.

Sigh! The one time I didn’t choose to over think. Now I don’t
have the device to quickly dot down how I feel.

Being an over thinker is so real.

I'm top heavy; my thoughts are resting at the brim – no cap! Often
my lips leak their thoughts at the brim; and I’m a cup with so
much to spit. I'm words on a spit – burning away time, in these fires
of life. Always the unannounced guests, coming to visit your home;
to make it feel like a show, making sure everything is in order – the
house is live. Also, as you live with a drive, those around you hope
you’re a responsible driver, to arrive with you alive.

I'm the tip of a scent towards destiny – hoping the path where my
soul goes, my heart also knows; I shoot my shot with aims to shoot
goals. I hold the script of a child's life, and my younger self looks at
me, to play all of those roles.

But when the model falls, and rolls over on their stage, do you still
look at them as your role model. At times I know why my self relates
so well to a bottle – all of those emotions a man tries to keep bottled.
While life feeds you time; a man still finds it a bit hard, for that piece
of pride he has to swallow.

These days feel like too many moments of regrets, questioning what
to do next – like the morning after ***. The two sit up, deciding who
will go and buy the morning after; *** can be like sleeping with
your regrets – it's an uncomfortable bed, but the one that you made.
There's no shame in admitting your mess; just clean it up with your
responsibility, before looking to hire a maid.

That's enough overthinking for today.

Words… are lost by touch; perhaps I am talking too much… that
much is clear – a tongue testing its own fortune. The moment I beheld
your visage, a weight settled upon my skin, while the fragrance of
your skin dug tremors through my heart – a quiver igniting up to the
nerves at my fingertips. Our hands met with a less than firm embrace – yet deep down, I yearned for a hug, to ascend the staircase of your
neck and find sanctuary in the chamber of your lips.

Like a swarm of bees drawn to a blossom, seeking the sweet nectar of
connection – our fleeting moments together ignited thoughts of
seizing the flower of time, “she’ll love me, she loves me now,” believing it’s merely a matter of time.

I hear you summon my name; it resonates like a hymn of adoration –
your celestial presence beckoning me into the realm of your words.
And so, we embark once more, at the crossroads of language where I
find myself either bereft of expression or talking too much … you
know what, let’s abandon the chatter and kiss instead, for our hearts
speak a language far more profound. I’ve been overthinking too much.

I’d long sincerely to be misplaced under the
stars, basking in the ethereal glow of a night sky.
—ostensibly jubilant; as it mirrors the depth
and passion of a love once shared.

For in this beautiful space we’ve created
together; every moment becomes a
beloved memory, beautifully etched into
the fabric of space, time and my soul.

Perchance, I would have given
you the world; — that which I do not own,
still could I own the very space of your past
broken heart?

I add music to my thoughts, just to keep them from growing
darker – my cheeks, feel like lead – weighed down by the burden
of unshed tears; as my ears strain to bear the weight of my silent
anguish. At times, my screams clash like thunder, echoing through
the tempest of my doubts, a relentless storm that looms overhead.
Each flicker of hope I grasp is met by lurking shadows, eager to
shroud my path in darkness—insecurities descend like a nightfall,
one among countless others.

The darkness acts as a hairline, as it recedes beneath a vengeful star,
I cling to the flicker of positivity that still resides within me, yet rage
simmers when my existence goes unnoticed. The Heavens bleed
crimson as I search for solace in my dreams, and where the blood
spills, it crashes against the earth with a deafening roar. My thoughts
drift through a luminous haze, yet I remain a harbinger of chaos,
spiralling through destruction—yearning, a restless spirit, my body
evaporating, and ceasing to exist.

In this turmoil, I am drawn into a surreal realm, where the confines
of my mind transform into a grand stage—twisting and contorting,
twisting itself in these performing gymnastic routines. It is a perpetual
struggle, a delicate dance of cognition, as I pray, I do not tear the
fragile threads of my sanity.

Yet, amidst this chaos, my music rises as a refuge, the pen transforming into my conductor's wand, weaving together the symphony of poetic notes that dance upon the page – I am a poet.

i.

Painted scars,
displaying a beautiful tragedy

A dream taken away,
other's never had one to have
And so in both our eyes,
we could see each person so sad.

Two broken pieces,
trying to fit together
If you could feel your worth,
but failed to see the treasure
Alas
If you could hear your love,
but never taste your kisses.
Alas.

Perhaps you weren't nosey enough,
to scent out more of you.

Still during your time,
you wished for something
But three wishes had given you nothing.

Alas


ii.

Back then I was
going out into the world
finding what's out there.
Soon fell out of place.

I took a trip into the world,
leaving a lot behind.

I left a man with morals,
never thought he felt important
Never had a dream,
always stood woke
Left the joy and laughter of company,
wasn't one to take their jokes.

Found my seat on a train,
heading nowhere
Glanced at my reflection only once,
As once was only enough
so careless of me to say, but I never dreamt of such.

Alas,
these painted scars.

A reflection of loveliness, you spend tiny
seconds in the mirror,
Sparing not a hand of beauty's lend; to lend
cherished care,
From childish abuse twined in life's hair, your grace
does rush my eye,

In the many,
amongst the traffic of people, your sweetest self
could not deceive,

Yet...

As your nature calls to itself, to break
my heart (as you're to branch off, and leave.)
Your beauty is the tombstone, And I
sadly won't find my rest.

                                 ....I indeed loved a mistress.

Inhale, exhale,
a slave to my every breath.
In a life of hell,
waking up to fall close asleep to death.

All the ups and downs, one can be above it all.
Lord!

Hear the call of man,
one of paranoia through a storm.
Like loud thunders, do you hear a crying roar?

In this reign of time,
find myself hiding behind clouds.
Where echoes of lightning surrounds.
Out of the norm,
a paranoia through a storm.

I've reached the other side,
across an endless tide.
Twelve hours later,
sailed around endless seconds of time.
Now I found,
things I can't fully understand.
A foreign land,
not inhabited by any man.
How I got here isn't as shore,
after a paranoia through a storm.

Who alone knows a strain of journey,
finding yourself feels an eternity.
But if I sold myself short,
there wouldn't be much left of me.
At the end of every storm,
I'll be like the sea.

Free!

There's a party I'd like for you all to attend,
partly- to spill yourself over; it's all in my head
And I'm so in over my head, like the thoughts
of getting to the top, with a sprinkle of fame
A bit of extra money toppings, and not being deserted
once they forget your name

Fill up a couple of balloons with oxygen to speak your dreams,
out of breath by the tenth one; saying things in haste
Everything blows away in the wind,
when you eventually lose all of your breath
I could be a bit depressed, but I'll move on from the feeling,
so anyways  I do digress...

Pour out a line of drinks in that chlorine smell,
compare them to the pools of tears I drowned myself in
I had a stroke of ideas, with the chest to commit to them all,
a bit of breaststroke, and I'm still learning how to swim

There's a couple of snacks and snakes,
one to bite into and to bite back
Have a bit of a hiss after every person you kiss,
tell a sweet lie in between pretty lips
And tell them you had a good time, with a bit
of awkward thanks

Play some music, and tune into your negative emotions,
motivate yourself with someone else's motivating quotes
And to quote, "Just one small positive thought
in the morning can change your whole day.”- Dalai lama
I wonder what thought of quote I have at night,
once it's the end of that day

It's always so loud,
especially it all being a party in my head!

Could we, still taste the stains of tears on a collared shirt
–whereas you cried, while being embraced in their arms?
To every new lover, every smile is just a spark we both
seem so hopeful will last us long; never to burn out.

Still there isn’t a crash course to love – for when it comes
to falling in love; it feels so heavenly as if Heaven has
made your angel, that stole the last breath in your heart.

But what happens when they don’t smile as they did
before – when ten thousand sparks, is just pieces of dust?
It's the answer of whether it’s a lasting love, in what seems
to be a lasting time, of not feeling those sparks…

We’ve all known the feeling of too many passing loves.

A subtle gaze into these mesmerizing brown eyes,
captivated by the intensity of the desire that burns within
them— these eyes are like two galaxies, vast and infinite,
in which I find myself happily swirling; as the joy of all
my dreams, are like a kiss that pulls me in deeper into orbit;
a celestial dance fueled by this magnetic connection to
achieve all that seemed so impossible.

The pull is irresistible, as I find myself helplessly drawn to
it, unable to resist the gravitational force of passions.
A moment of cosmic unity, I yearn for you with a fervor that
surpasses time and space. The past becomes insignificant, and
all that matters is the present, the unyielding longing for a
touch, an embrace of accomplishments, playing out in my
life’s celestial opera.

Hearing what you say to me between your lips,
Focus of my eyes are by your hips.

Stressing way too much on the few seconds left on the time,
Making the night worth the wait as I surely make you mine.

Politeness I lost by biting way too ******* your empty flesh,
Seeking a sweet treasure hidden underneath your colourful dress.

But it just takes a little while
For that heavenly scent across your neck to make me smile.
Down for the type of loving taking us across the mile.

Losing control out of the grip.
I take a piece of your taste by the every sip.
For you have a flame running wild across my entire body. Now reaching the tip.

Ready for the mount
Don't need this time to count.
Lose track of the time. Being the animal you need, breathing the warm air out my snout.

I love the feeling. I take it to no waste.
Passion for my love for you is never displaced.

To describe beauty—isn't by sight,
rather insight.
The mind is beautiful,
a *** *****; pleasing of the know how it shows,
of how much experiences it has catalogued.
As the heart—filled with passion flowing,
lips of course express the words of love.
The hands place action to the physical of one's
love to their own, given once by another.

To a resting place, is a forest of ten thousand
trees,
Where sweet nothings echo into their final bite
of one's words bark.
So as the two make love, under the canopy of
two's embrace—
Seems the passionate partaking, wisps the morning energy
for the day, and a reason to leave.

Too passionate beings, two lovers making
love.
Under covenant, as the circling ring,
she is his, as she calls to him.
He greets her always with a wet kiss.

It's bliss; ignorant forgetfulness.
"I forgot what we were even fighting about"

A sick person rushes to feel well, yet
Ironically, "patient" they'll be –

Are you tired of the wait,
Or is it just your fate now, to find that
Patience is the way of life?
Sincerely, "patient" we'll be –

As I pause in his presence;
  he's the one who pushed
   back oceans, for foundations I see,

     walking in valleys of darkness;
       he's the lamp guiding the
         ways of my destiny's feet.

As I pause in his presence;
  I have the privilege to be
     in God's Holy Place,

      waking me up; armed and
       ready for battle,
          Made invincible in every way.

As I pause in his presence;
      I'm lost for words to say,
        at the Oasis of Spirit's peace,

         overflowing, your love's blessings,
           shaking my heart at it's core,
             for your love is sweet to my lips.

I pause in your presence; waiting on your will to be done,
I pause in your presence; knowing that I am always loved.

A life ignites, only to extinguish in time’s relentless grasp – just
as a year dawns, yet fades away without so much as a whisper.
Here I stand, teetering on the precipice of the new, bidding
adieu to the past, resting upon this pedestal of moments;
I yearn to voice my thoughts, yet hesitate to preach.

It is all too simple for one to recount the trials of a year, to boast
of triumphs over adversity. But what if, for some, the conclusion
merely serves as the bitter prelude to yet another distressed chapter?

In the grand of our existence, there are moments of sweetness,
fleeting as a confection – yet the bitterness we endure clings to
our lips, overshadowing the once delightful flavours.
This year has been a grand banquet, glorious yet marred by
unwelcome intruders: fury, regret, despair, heartbreak, betrayal,
pain, sorrow, and loss – a feast both lacklustre and so dreadful.

Yet, amidst the fury, there lies the soothing balm of silence to
soothe a troubled heart. Where regret lingers, it serves as a
poignant reminder of paths best left pathless. From the depths
of despair, a vivid portrait emerges, crafted from the ink of my
struggles. In the wake of heartbreak, I find solace in the truth that
even the most hardened souls harbour a tender echo of softness.

Betrayal has bestowed upon me the fortitude to extend trust,
albeit with an alert heart. In the face of pain, my spirit bears
wounds yet remains resolute, ready to rise beyond the scars.
Where sadness dwells, cherished memories dance through
my tears, illuminating the darkness. And in the shadow of loss,
I glean wisdom from the echoes of what I once cherished.

All these revelations I have gathered upon this pedestal of time.