So live life without
a need for Google friends;
Searching for-
your identity inside of them.

Seasonal changes,
as there must be a summer in your kiss,—
to give me the light to my smile.
And in the course of romanticising, I must
have crashed my ship on your open land.
As the words to say what I want to say, annoyingly
get stuck in my mouth, like something stuck in your teeth.

But as you lick your lips, I hope it doesn't mean
you're trying to get a lick out of me.
At least once; we've all tasted deceit, and I'm praying
that it won't be the very last taste for me.
We both could have lived out our highs of the city life,
but I'm trying to get a little closer to you where you homestead.
Even if it seems rural, I'd make the most of it whenever
you choose to come to my home instead.

But I don't own an address, yet;
—still you can live on my mind.
Even when I don't own a mattress, you can rest on
knowing that there will always be a place by my side.

We'll make casual conversation in every formal setting.
Part ways with our busy days, just to fit each other
in a section of our busy schedules.
And to end it all off with setting our hearts at another
session, as you cross my mind, knowing you're the thought
that waits at the intersection.

And even when the roads seem slippery,
–I'll have my grip on you.
      Henceforth, Seasonal changes.

Her lips were cold as a Winter’s bone, sending sharp chills down your
spine. His kiss was like a Summer, with it’s sun warming up the days.
A Spring of blossoming scented flowers, no longer shy to be openly
seen.

The butterflies in search of nectar, being the ones in her stomach. As
with the fall, they had both fallen in love during the Autumn.

He would forever be her seasoned kisser.

Single carols keep on calling.
In the summer time yet Christmas was still falling.

Seasons pass and many more seasons gone,
time washed away in empty rivers, time is all done.
Children playing on rusty swing sets, all having fun,
this seasons lessons are all but none.

And I'm happy for this moment.
I bought tears to cry for, but why still don't I own it.

Cause time is a rollercoaster paired with life, just going up and down,
this season felt so cold and dry, ****** up all the richness from earthly ground.

This season, kids my age got so much time to drop babies inside each other.
Children born, now where be your parents. Where be mother and father.

It's just seasons passing by, so why do you stay here for so long.
Seasons staying and ringing in my ears like that catchy song.

Seasons...
Give me more reasons....

When I do you wrong
you never do talk
But when I see those eyes
they tell a thousand words.
And it breaks my heart,
to know I'm robbing your worth.

I read into your mind,
seeing a lot of me I don't like.
And baby I,
know bad history and I are almost alike.

But don't you let those tears fall
before I do my best
Let me fix my words,
admitting I was wrong.
Though my pride hates that,
it bites at I must confess.

Still the stinging hurts less,
to when I'm giving you stress.
I know I'm not always the best,
but I could always do better.

Like the seconds on the clock,
give me a second chance.

Time will always fade away,
as I'm close to you.
Where all the seconds go,
is too far for me to see.

Only a couple seconds away,
babe you have me second guessing myself.

As I write this in a couple seconds,
the minute has past me a few.
Words like the time
feel endless by every line.

Only in the couple seconds,
I'm in the second half of this love game.

Deepest pain is the one in secret,
a smile covering up a hurt.
One can seem so happy,
he seems fulfilled. But alas; just pieces.

The greatest pain,
the one they don't know.
Agony is a song,
sung by my heart in secret.
Which sounds like the blues
pouring out of my soul.

The last struggle felt,
is extreme pain in the nights
Hiding behind the lights of day.
We're all broken sometimes,
but we love to say, "we're okay".

Really why I love to suffer alone
isn't me being selfish with my pain.
When you grew up being told to be a man
crying in secret is all you know.

I'm best to be silent,
crying tender whispers of pain.
These tears will remain pouring down,
forcing me to stop being quiet.
For after the cloudy weather comes the
sun after the rain.

So goodbye to the agony,
and it's secrets.
I break down to be rebuilt from broken pieces.

Stars shining brightly tonight,
the Heavens must be warm
Why wouldn't they be,
especially now in a world so cold.

The bite of thunder
echoes across the globe,
The tears of skies flood the world,
as the ashes of chaos have grown a Rose.

Do I suppose,
to know all the pieces I could hold,
Pieces of the sky
give a lot more to behold
The skies, like Heaven
are as precious as gold
And with them,
the many secrets yet to be told.

Looking into your eyes
why do I see more of me than you.
Like tunnel vision
finding lightness on the other end?

This feels like a rising sun
over a fallen dawn
A whisper of ten thousand thunders
I'm counting before the storm.
The rain will definitely fall soon
as will I, at the rein of love.

So perhaps I should take cover
under that tunnel.
Being head over heels,
might end up losing one of the two.
Inside this secret little tunnel
leading me to you.

Tell me if I can stay here.

A seductive whisper,
passionate kisses immersed in
sultry falsehood on their lips

A heart transformed into granite;
gazing into each other's eyes,
locked in a fiery embrace
with a captivating enchantress

With a luring melody and enticing phrases,
to an intimate soirée for just the two of us
Be cautious not to sink your teeth into those words,
for you may risk losing a precious tooth!

The Apple of season in a nearby garden of Eden. What if I found my Eve, to share my seeds? In the odds of love, I might find it, to call it all even. As wherever I plant myself, the character shows. In a world filled with weeds, and roses. The harshness is really just people's thorns.

I might fertilize my imaginations; for all my offspring's dirt.
Just to give them a better start, to live on this Earth. A tiny mustard seed, that nobody expects. But when you make it big, everybody is throwing their respects, and claiming you're the best. Like Adam to his Eve; I do my bad, and have to leave.
Even when I'm on my knees, I feel I don't pray enough if they don't bleed.

But maybe like Eve to her Adam; life goes on when things are tragic. Sharing the Apple of sin, as the story goes. We all know that conclusion, because it's all already happened.

Still we learn from the happenings of what once happened. The only bite I'm willing to share; is the bite of passion.

Let the seeds grow; of their fruits that will show. And if the bad fruits are too many, I guess the tree has to go. But from how far these offspring have come, there's still hope for us all.

Now it's time to grow!

The seed in the ground is surrounded by dark –
Under the dark shadow where it’s born,
It waits in hope, every day, every hour
The flower that can only dream of what
It’s meant to be, still as a seed

And the day will come, where it’s hope
Isn’t so dark; for hope begins in the dark –
As you only value a spark when it clears out
The dark; there where life is; you can find
Hope in the most unlikely places

We bear in our eyes, struggles heavy in tears
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, and years
Close to the edge of a breaking point
But once that beautiful hope finally comes out
Won’t you ask, “where have you been hiding”

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

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

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

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

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

They ask me why I do it all.
Why I'm tripping but are yet to fall.
They ask me why when bad happens I cry for so long,
when that nice tune on the radio starts blasting and I always sing along.

Why my currency had such an urgency,
but I use it only  for a random emergency.
Why I can't keep my eyes from all the pretty girls that come around,
I'm failing to look away from their curves, or at least stare to the ground.
Why I'm smiling to wide and long when at times I'm dying inside,
carrying so many pains, trying so much to hide.

They tell me I should hope for the future yet I can't see a pathway to it.
I fear mostly of the things not likely to come, but I failed to keep an eye on it, I never really saw it.

Is it a human nature of a being not to sure of his identity of self,
do I cut down trees to build fences to hide my wealth.

I'm just a man who maybe cries more than most,
and I don't really know my position but I'm still playing this post.

I'm human after all.
I bleed and fear, and stack my desires to be so tall .

As for one's self-discovery;
channel out reasons searching for love
How to find the right one,
when you're not right yourself?
Do brace yourself-
Looking for love; hand on your heart.

You hold onto love's pressure.
Not all you find lasts forever.

Change I want,
like last a penny I'm afraid to spend.
If I change right now will
it benefit me in the end?

Change is an experience
yet to be felt.
Never too ready for such a concept,
change to me is a quarter yet to be dealt.

Such is self change.
How do I spend it in the end?

There’s a perfect smile drawn from a shadow
-as it suppresses memories far sanguine to the mind,
at times we marvel at the stars; looking up to at
what we could be: though we are bright stars filled
of many, many scars

Dreams lost in mirrored streams; cascading days
into one another- tears lost in a serene night;
your luminous eyes could never tell enough of your
tragic story; as their naked glances bear witness to
other people’s perfect stories, who see other people’s
perfect stories

They seem to carry a proud radiance; it does seem
that way, if you don’t really know the full depth of that
story— there’s a darker majesty behind that perfect
smile with mounds of earth covering over their trembling
vein, and unyielding flesh, to come under self-control

To many I've met,
say my skin colour doesn't match my accent,
It isn't what you expect,
but I hold no apology for being so different.

I'm the Be in best,
that need be worn on my chest
The We in wear,
many fabrics of me. Feeling cut short like a vest.
The Us in usable,
a people the world will love to play,
The one who knows,
life can often feel like a one sided game.
Wait,
here's the fun part of my name.

They read it,
thinking this nation isn't my home
They tell me we're in this together,
but I grew up fighting battles on my own.
I've been told I act too white,
and black when it suites me.
Truth is, I'm caught on both sides.

I'm not so good at dance,
risk embarrassment of taking a chance.
Betterthat than being stuck in stance.
They wonder why I'm so mad,
you made fun of me my whole life,
This is the second stage after being so sad.

I've been told I'm not man enough,
too weak for my good
Wanting to show everyone love.

They ask why I don't make a price
for being so nice
My response, "that isn't my life".
I smile so bright,
in a world so deep in dark
I take all my pain, and put it into poetic art.

They say I'm too reserved,
when I speak truth; I strike a nerve.
So maybe I'm just picky with my words.
They tell me "for a guy you look too pretty",
often deemed as "too cute"
Going "aaww" in sympathy,
"you don't know how to use your looks you fool".

I can't be the one to break girl's hearts,
cause mine will break even more.
Can't be the one to leave them scars,
for my own will be the most sore.

I self identify,
this being the exact reason why.
This is who I am,
a portrait of my own man.
This is just for you to understand,
this is exactly who I am.
If you don't like it, cry me a river
because I don't give a ****.

Self traits, self shame,
titles holding onto everything
Self harm, self blame,
really what's the point of anything?

Self pity, self saved,
thinking we better ourself.
Self-centred, self engaged,
we really don't care about anything else.

We're just self abusive, self-destructive,
enemies of our own.
Self-loathing, self obstructive,
always tear ourselves for being torn.

We sell ourselves into being selfish.
As is human nature,
Selfishness like a fetish

The endless nights bring
Fleeting dreams beneath the Moon's soft glow,  
While laughter in the sunlight has
Scorched my skin, in such a late playful woe,  
For joy has danced upon my heart,
Too bright, too bold, and too free,  
And in mirthful moments,
I have found the humour deep in me.

Nurturing this futile flame – dreams still linger on my fingertips as  
The glowing embers of thoughts I cling to. Dawn has splashed my
Vision with a fierce brilliance, a splendour now vanished;
Pursuing the fragments of a miracle that among those dear to
Me, I seem to be absent.

All the choices I’ve made; pride eludes me – pursuing paths
Not meant for my feet, lost in the throng All those I wished to
Impress, striving to achieve things that never filled me with pride  
Hearing their disappointment echo in my ears – it stung less than
It should have, for I had long been let down by those I admired.

Yet, I find myself never doing enough; despite all I’ve done to  
Still feel inadequate – I’m beginning to embrace myself more now,
No longer striving to please the multitude of family, friends, and
The few I can confess my love for. I’m discovering the art of
Self-love now.

Complacent; my life experiences are
anew, of all unfamiliar places
Faces are pretty; but pretty much
the same —recalling them more than
their person's name

Maddening; in a maiden voyage
tis an odyssey of this craze, writing about love
Though I'm always so far from it
As I wonder whose dreams I'm tip toeing
in their head, as a memory

Care for me; as I'd care to not overstep
myself, while I'm running on your mind
We're both blind,
blinded in love, blinded by love,
blinded by what we'd hope is love

still we haven't met;
just being two beings, connected by
dreams —trapped in each other's heads

You tripping like you've overstepped,
Falling way too much like you've overslept.
Moved into my emotions, but don't know what state I'm in.
Played on what was the best side but don't know the team I'm in.

Could they push you to the edge
When you live right by the ledge?

Geared for life but don't take days in reverse
Be as you are like different days try to be diverse

Hate holds the hand but still not felt,
Keep a lot of my own will beneath the belt.

The many firewalls of my Heart for a corrupt world.
Still more cracks peeping through. Spinning in my head, I'm pretty swirled.

O'Lord, what's this situation a world's got me in.
Trying to swim out of it's depths but I'm acting like a fish with a missing fin.

Be lost, waiting to be found.
Be down and out before I hit the ground.

Give me a sense of hope in such a senseless world in it's own manner.
For an upcoming year I'd ask of where I stand, under which banner?

Make sense of this,
Make ways through this.

Kisses don't last forever,
lipstick scars on my collared shirt;
sweet perfumes sinking into my neck.
Searching for a rush,
there's a rush out there looking for me.

Let me play my tongue on you;
just like I love to play with my words.

Lust of rush; my eye on a crush,
She's a crushing feeling; as when my cheek
bones hurt every time I blush. Plush; so richly
filled and lush. Could I love you as a must;
But a piece of you is far too much.

Do you...

Indulge in all of those senses;
As my sense of appeal is to be the one who
stole your heart. I'm much made of steel;
heavy weighed inside of my pants.
But why be quick in our advances; let's have
a little romance. Pick out our cards at every chance.
I'll play your King, with just few plays with my hands.

A squeeze; you feel the weakness on your knees,
each time I wrap around your neck.
And proceed into those long kisses that steal your
breath. Bite you down like an enemy; be tender
to all of those marks like a friend.

But I'd soon forget, of which of us gets naked
first; before pulling the covers of the bed.
I'm sitting on the edge; grinning at a striptease
doing in my head.

I can't pretend, that my skins aren't hair raising;
lips craving, body shaking, and I'm embracing
the embrace of me driving my destination inside
of your place.

But these are the thoughts on the road:
of what's about to come.

I'm still on the way.

This obsolete word- love;
in its pathetic love passions; - a lover’s promise
to do better– is a sorrow for a morrow. Digging in
your heart to express jealous feelings- love has just caved
in; loving one from the very pits of their own darkness.
Love is beauty, but also promises probable harshness.

In the letter ‘L’-
is longing, but also many let downs.
‘O’ – openness to broad communication; also the
opportunity to opposing standards. The rest of the letters
are blurred- as to why you won’t see me express them well.

Of cos, one should be sentimental;
still the mental response of love- gives tears;
of a heart building up a great sentinel…

As the sun is set
apart from the dark
As the moon is set
in it's reflection.
I too, set apart
from the dark and reflected of light.

I feel like the most succulent pair of juicy ****,
with an overwhelming number of individuals
yearning to **** out so much from me.

As my days all feel so hard from the very
start of the day, it overwhelms me with a sense
of struggle and echoes the stiffness of a freshly
awakened morning wood that jolts me
to face the uphill battle.

Feeling a false protection in my eyes,
like a veil of distortion hiding the truth from me,
a sight of a broken ******, serving as a jarring
reminder of the potential consequences of careless actions.
And like it, I tend to snap, my emotions becoming
tense like an over-stretched rubber band, and my
inner self breaks and leaks, pouring out fragments
of vulnerability and raw emotions.

While feeling a little undesirable, a question of opinion
arises as to how some women may perceive
or react to a man's *******, questioning whether
it is a quirk that might be appreciated or
a source of discomfort and judgement.

As some people live their entire life kissing ***
and constantly seeking validation from others,
I find myself in a different predicament.
Instead of indulging in people-pleasing, I am tasked
with navigating the intricate dynamics of being
buried deep within the recesses of people's lives.

It often feels like I am serving as a constant
pillar of support, attempting to hold the weight
of their emotional baggage and countless demands.
In essence, I have become like a sturdy glass
*******,—fragile; tightly wedged into the figurative
structure of their existence.

              I could say for the moment, my life feels a bit ******!

every shadow behind a star
-i started this poem with an empty space
a cloudy mind that tipped the skies
with a tip of a pen
i poke a hole in the sky, till tears bled
out of heaven's gate
and for heaven's sake, i must have gotten
mixed up between the skies, and earth being
such a hellish place

i had a touch of love by a kitten's mitten
a soft smitten experience, i had walked
into a bit quieter
as i could never say the words out loud,
to express my love to impress a crowd
but we all want to hear those words,
at least once, once in a while by the one
two is a bit mutual, and three's a crowd
but you have a lot of things you're still waiting for,
like having someone being so worked up
over you; so i'd best kiss you after five

cos every star has a shadow,
and every bright thing has a dark side
-i hope my bright smile won't shine
a light on what i'm hiding inside

I have these lonely sleeps, as it feels like my depression
is controlling me. The pain is deep; I lose track of time
dancing on my feet—I'd sell my soul for just a night of peace
But I’m not the one talking, it’s just the demons inside of me

My past is dark; a fragile shadow made of glass
the compliments I hear just sound like laughs
I try my best to relax—but it drives me crazy, and I hope
I never crash. But in the end who really forgets their past,
unless of course you never lived the memory, so
you’re always trying to deal with that

                             ~I’m just this constant shadow glass
                                                       hoping not to break
                                                       hopeful not to crack
                                       hopes of repairing shadow glass

From little handed, we shall seek increase,
Still with the multifold of riches we make,
Our heart's poverty shan't be at peace.

Shape of figure;
strength, courage, love,
Curved into masterpiece; a fiery heart,
fiercely burns my eyes in the wake of desires.

A dream? I hope not, for angels don't
belong in such a place. I'd choose not to wake.
Wishful thinking. I wish to have that I cannot,
that perhaps all do not. That I can't truly love.

Anguished; underfed passion, yearning the taste of tears.
Beautifully falling like rain that has blessed the grounds.
I'm on the grounds under your weight, the weight of your
desire has to my heart.

Sigh! I'm tearful at night; pillows that hold oceans,
drowning. Drowning in my vivid imaginings spent
with you.

A paint brush,—wet as lips shaking from a kiss,
it must have outlined you with I in mind.
All things I like; to experience them into love.
A clutch pencil,—clutching my heart, piercing through
my paper thin weakness towards you.
A tablespoon,—sprinkled into a dish, baked in
a maturity's time in the oven of growth.

Funny how I've kissed a thousand times those
skins of savoury lips. But wailfully, woefully,
wretchedly, and painfully you don't exist.

Just an imaginary Miss.

I reach for her- so lost
she waits for me to rise up to the occasion
but I am an escalator with a line so long,
She takes my hand- so warm
breathes on my neck, to the sting of its cuts
desperately sinning; these eyes being so cutthroat  

I feel her in my mind- overthinking
wondering if my actions push her away when
she senses that my mind speaks out of another
She slips from my eyes- I’m crying
afterwards she kisses my eyelids, granting me
the ease to show my true face; it feels so strange

She is not like the rest- her sleep disrobes me
as I watch her pleasantly sleeping by my side;
I take care of her as my wife, love her as a sister
protect her as my child, respect her as my superior
hold her close as a piece of my heart, close away all
that tries to harm her as a barrier door-

I have no sense of fear when she’s around, but
I am so fearful of who will take care of her
when I’m finally gone

The horses aren't any stable,
as with good wood;-
but he ran out of trojans

Sinking tears –

 feelings don’t fall,
  they crash
   like glass hearts
    meeting pavement.

Your chest?
 A sunken place.
  No bra strap to hold it up –
   just white linen,
    innocent for a moment,
      until it slips
       in front of eyes
       like mirrors
        reflecting
         every scar
          painted on your skin.


Sandcastle kisses,
 built soft –
   fragile –
     on lips that no longer
       believe in forever.

Yet you speak
 like royalty,
   saying boldly:
    “Love me for what I am –
     not just who you think I’ve been.”

Not a princess.
 Not a saviour.
  A mess.
   A wreck.
    A fallen queen.

Wearing her cracked gold crown
 like a forgotten joke –
   that still makes your heart ache
     when it returns
      in the quiet between memories.



Bones for time –
 you pick at every hour
   like it owes you something.
    Tick.
      Tick.
        Snap!

The clock breaks
   where your mind does.

You may live in the day,
   but you breathe
     in the night.

Freer beneath moonlight,
  where shadows stop asking questions –
   and silence
    finally listens.

I pray to my Lord; as the prey in this crazy
world, dressed in sheep's clothing of all
those wolves.
All lurking around with no good.

Shepherd guide me; I don't always know
where to go. Staff of mercy; disciplines hurt
of the rod, but keeps me on my track to God.

Teeth marks; and ****** holes in my leg,
went chasing on greener pastures. But instead;
I was caught down on my defence.
Wolves only see red; as they have their prey out as
a spread.

The prey prays not to be prey; by the longest
prayer of all the sheep's prayers.

Her Plan A was simple —

Don’t have kids too young, so she invested
everything into Plan B: watching her step,
protecting her peace, staying ahead of
what the world might expect of her.
That was always her plan, see.

...not willing to risk it all for Plan D.

She’s still out here hoping this one
might be the one to drop down on one knee —
and not just another one wanting her on
her knees. So tired of bruised knees;
from praying to God for someone real,
while a man’s bruised ego is the only thing
she’s expected to heal.

...she just wants to be free.

Is she merely a commodity, – or is she a daring spirit, traversing
the farthest reaches of love? To express to her young – an odyssey!
Often, they would hastily declare that a woman's deeds are common;
but to counter, her core is to weave a painting of sentences adorned
with countless comas.

She…

Is a stormy love, obliterating all that stands against compassion,
wielding a wisdom that is both fierce and gentle, she knows precisely
when to voice her thoughts or to elevate the spirit of a man who may
overlook her brilliance, a celestial body, she requires no stage to
illuminate the world; her radiance persists, unwavering, she is a
lyrical composition, igniting the pages that attempt to confine her
value, she embodies the sweetest of a restless soul, finally finding
solace in her nurturing embrace, she is tranquillity, she is affection,
she is the embodiment of patience, the lessons and warnings of a
discerning gaze – she is… a Woman.

Cradle nights and rocking thoughts-
tears stained in star dust, rising breaths shot by
the rockets burning at your throat. You had a smoke
before you’ll come and go- who could have known
the worry pressed against your heart, after that hovering
press of your thumb to send that message on your phone.

“Hey could you pick me up, I didn’t sleep at home,”
you slept over at the place you shouldn’t have- you
usually sleep alone; but how he kept an open mind and
open conversation; being the best intention and attention
someone could give you to keep you close.

It felt so good to be heard, for someone to put you
on top while he slept on the floor- but you grow jaded,
knowing that its going to be really awkward between you
both; spending the night with your best friend’s crush
The one you couldn’t tell her you had known long before;
having a bit of a fling before- but hoping no one would
actually know.

But as soon as she comes around to pick you up,
to take you back home- oh she’ll certainly know.

_

She says I...
should treat her like a masterpiece of art,
And I’d be a fool to not get the fuller picture;

I might linger by her side, yet my position
remains a mystery, akin to a Khaled feature.

She hides behind her smile;
that’s a kaleidoscope of emotions—perceptual,
asymmetrical, mixed signals with her eyes –
okay, I think I got the picture; “she is a living
Mona Lisa;” yet, she remains to me,
an enigma.

Joyful jackets – wrap me in warmth, shielding me
from being worn out by life; my upside-down smile
has flipped.

Those puffy cheeks of the girl I kiss, radiating heat;
makes me feel even warmer – just like a cosy puffy
jacket.

Do your eyes still traverse the corridors of memory, like a VCR
rewinding its cherished tapes? Capturing your reflection in the
mirror—still radiant, unadorned, and unapologetic. I still find
myself consumed by jealousy for that bathroom mirror,
privileged to witness you from every corner of your room.

Consumed by the sinister allure of your skin’s shadowy depths,
a brilliance emerges that rivals the most exquisite treasure.
My dear, you continue to weave a tapestry of uncertainty around
me—thoughts hovering like spectres above, even as you attempt
to mask the passage of time with a new hue in your hair.

Yet, your capricious emotions betray you, revealing strands of silver
that ravenously consume my heart, and each sigh a testament to
your power. You ought not to linger in the recesses of my mind,
yet these last seven days have only intensified my fascination,
leaving me utterly weak.

I cast my laments to the skies, my spirit weeping profusely – the
cascade of your lip’s whisper, the tempestuous tides of your form,
the fortress of towering trees echoing the curve of your legs – how
can I possibly avert my gaze from your enchanting eyes? You have
transformed my heart into a crime scene, slaying me piece by piece,
all for the sake of uniting with you.

My tongue lowers; as nothing can be expressed,
the love has not many words.

As are the prideful
remarks on breast.

I fear for the words to say, aren't perfect
in the ceremonies of love's rite,

The strength of my words only decay. A burden
of mine to lose my might.

Eyes heavy upon this love,
Preyed onto by your glorious sight. Oh how my
silent love only knows wit,

Belonging to a shy man's lips.

You're a ship and I'm a wreck-
Our love met a titanic end
Still, we'd sail around the terms
Of being close mates

Too see you again;
You can still claim a spot
By the window seat of my heart,
Gazing straight into my soul.

under a star lit night/
surrounded by crowds of dark
blankets of time, tucked away in secret/
the forever pieces to form this sky;
are petals of beauty falling onto earth.
...red, fiery, and desirable
i saw a shooting star rose, and what grew
from it was our Mother earth.

Here comes the morning,
guessing I should wake.
Will it be a better day,
especially when I forgot to pray?
Heading out, bags on my eyes.
I shouldn't be alive,  
a little too sleepy, really dead inside.

Couple more endless yawns,
wishing to sleep till the wake of dawn.
But I have to get to work,
months a due, hope they pay my worth.
What am I spending it on first?

It's a Friday,
might suffocate myself in drinks.
A couple spills on my shirt,
trying my best to keep it clean.
But I know my money is going to family,
boss weirdly asks, "Are you married"
"No sir". Don't know if I'm glad not to be.

At twenty two,
should be getting married one day.
Haven't made attempts to find that company.
Spent my whole life working,
forgot I actually need somebody.

But as always,
I scratch the idea.
Hate the sort of itch,
has me thinking if I had the wish.
Is if love waiting for me to hit,
what if I swing a shot and miss?
A day I'll be on my knees,
at least not at a time I'm praying till they bleed.

These thoughts of future not found,
can't help myself,
thinking about it right now.
Of course I think about it everyday,
and that's only the short story of the day.

Less is more,
more or less waiting for a lot in store.
But just for you babe, I'm looking forward to having a little more of you.

Probably you know me best and how I easily break,
putting a lot at stake to glimpse what's hidden underneath that sunny dress.
Hoping that what I'll find is as bright as you.

But I shouldn't care much for things I really can't see,
though having my eyes stuck on you isn't the best view of life for me.

But life is strange,  that we're always stuck on something,
stuck in between loving you more than loving myself, honestly that shouldn't come up to just nothing.

So like a short verse bleeding out of my pen,
I've bled out carelessly for past loves, that it makes me wonder if I'll ever fall in love again.

This story felt pointless, it's so obsolete,
Some pages were missing at the corners, it was just so incomplete.
I smile for a moment till I lose myself,
Been counting foreign dollars, to add a little more worth to my wealth.

They told me all wishes only came from an old lamp,
They told me all dream worths were all wet and so damp.

Darling I felt broke, I never had richness to own.
Just poor me a shot now, I'll go drink all alone.
Light up a dull pipe, with tobacco  to **** the empty atmosphere.
Blow up some puff clouds, try to blow all my problems till they all disappear.

Live young to finally at the end of time. **** how I'll get so old.
Cough out one last breath on this earth, I paid my problems to be sold

Ask what I'd do for love,
be a loaded gun and shot my shoots,
Too many rounds
of really just falling in love,
Maybe I haven't gotten enough,
or run out of bullets to shot for love.

The night plays a tune of crickets
in a perfect silence,
as I see an open window frame picture
of a white and black horse—life and death
Dancing closely as with my sleep in the middle
                   Do I brave myself to shut my eyes?

To the shyest of most,
the ones doing the most.
All think of us quite timid,
still the timid kind, isn't shy
to their thoughts.

A step into our minds,
might lend you a slip.
You'd be so surprised to find
what's inside,
So you've heard,
the quiet ones are the loudest inside.

As the face can be tame,
there's something wild of us.
Granted we have some thoughts
to bring us to shame.
As is often our nature,
these thoughts tend to spring up.

The biting of my tongue,
there's something I'm shy to say.
As is my character,
as is how I'd act in a play.