I'd feel like a stranger at my own funeral-
who's that in the box, dressed better in death
than I ever managed in life?
Better than my quiet attempts-those empty rehearsals
at suicide.

Was this the last chance I had left?
Even in death, my voice isn't heard-
nor the screaming ones trapped inside my skull.
Even my ghost wouldn't believe it's dead,
still hoping the lives I tried to save
might pay my way past the gates,
buy out my debts.

But what if there's no heaven waiting?
What if another kind of hell greets me instead?
What if I never see my old friends again-
never laugh without fear,
never smile without pretending?
What if I never stop
being so ******* afraid
so strangely ashamed
to feel nothing,
to be numb to even shame itself?

All I wanted
was to be born again-
not into some perfect life,
but one that wouldn't lead me
back to searching for another end.
And isn't it strange-
how only in death do we see our regrets
with such clarity?
Because there's nowhere left to run from them
once we get
to the end.

Rich or poor in yourself
shall I not love you as at such,
A day onto another day is not a bit of care I give as just enough.
So why trouble a broken heart as it be,
let alone a lesson still to be learnt
for hearts of many trying so hard to be free.

Open the blinds of my eyes to let the light in.
Troubled days many as my ever growing hairs,
Many a fall trying to break away a pit from a thousand a sin.
As so, I hate to have time to be fooling around
Surely I need not to be wasting all time for it sickens me from feeling a sense of proud.

And these words will become so as strange
Still I'm wishing to be going home so hail me a taxi to drive away from this darkened empty cage.
Let my favourite song play as loud on this lonely long trip.
And if I make it home early tonight pour out one more shot for me to sip.

Still if the ego of my pride grew too much, cut it by a root,
If a taste of lust were to be so sweet, cut my tongue and leave me to just mute.

For all around the world there's a party I could be to,
more drinks to lose my soberness at the bottom of this bottle to such an addiction that grew.
A thousand destinations to park my own kids by the flesh,
To be such a fool to lose responsibilities
of my purpose for I'm caught up by the skins underneath her dress.

Yet I should learn like Mother once told me when I did her wrong.
A quick reminder of what such troublemaking shall bring is stuck in my head like a ringing song.

You're only as strong
knowing your greatest weakness
If man knows not what they fight for,
why must he fight at all?

An open palm to aid the people,
closed one to protect things most cherished.

To force another to fight their battles,
shouldn't be as so.
One who cannot fight battles within them,
cannot fight the many more battles outwards.
If man knows not what they fight for,
why must he fight at all?

But if by any chance
one could win a war without fighting
and spilling blood
He'd be a fool not to take it.

One must know the worth
of what they fight for
to truly value it of it's all.

Be it,
family, integrity, ambitions or cause.
One fights with all that he has.
And only gives up
if they no longer have the strength of Lord.

They live their lives like there's no tomorrow
Cos life is fragile as that see through glass
Trying to forget it all inside that bottle
And what's no longer past, just all comes to pass

A life made of glass, a life made of glass,
It's never strange; to a bunch of strangers

Do not the ears of Heaven,
hear the heaviness in her voice;
the cries behind her throat;
the passionate tears of her soul;
And the echoes of a prayer's call?

Behind the closed door,
she's dressed with the Word;
shedding away skins of the world;
As she's then found to be bold.

She is,

whispering grieves;
exclaiming praise;
chanting tongues;
and reciting verses.

Baptised in Spirit,
covenant to faith;
blessed of plenty;
And a daughter of Great King.

Mighty is she,
mighty is He in her;
mighty is the strength of a woman's prayer;
And mighty is His strength within her.

Mighty is she,
mighty is He in her;
mighty is the strength of a woman's prayer;
And mighty is His strength within her.

Attachment,
Pull here and there, then lose control, often feeling like my mind is so absent.
It's really been too long since I sang a love song,
Was just that passing memory that's far too go.

Strings attached to me,
Still thinking hard about my own future. Trying so hard to be my own fortune teller just to see.
Set a new resolution for a new year begun,
Still fought many battles, still fighting them  right now. Why does it feel like I've already won.

Well honestly a changing had to come, sooner than later,
Cut through my own puppet strings  pulling me along to the grater.
Meet the new man you see in the mirror.  Don't blink on it  twice.
Daddy stay a little longer, I'm  feeling cold like a bucket of ice.

String attached, break your hold.
Someone rescue me. Look into the distance, a hero shinning amongst these shadows O'long and behold.

Time, my fading memories over there, wait let me grab hold of that,
Ok back to the plot, hey there crazy world it's me, that stranger in a building of known people, ain't that a fact.
Anyway it was early morning when it felt as I got up around late afternoon,
I must have really enjoyed my sleep, but of course I kissed goodnight a full moon.
But wait a second and pause a moment in time,
Today was another day ready to be come old, when it finally passes, I'm definitely calling that day mine.

I first had to wake up my heart, now my mind had to follow,
And I heard about true love out there, I wanted to steal it though but I rather stand and wait, rather to borrow.
But enough of that, let's move on to my day,
I woke up for moments in life, so I'm living life in a different kind of way.
Give myself a high five for that and get ten back,
Then swing by my emotions, make sure it's all in check, good, good, everything is in perfect stack.


Because my days, these days are often to long,
But I make it this far, it never killed me so I'm made much strong

You're the end to all
  words to express my love.
              (fullstop)

But do we ever talk,
  with eyes so set on-
        one another?
    (we must see the words)

Do we strongly love the other,
    as the other thinks of-
            themselves?
I often see a chance for more,
          (just add a comma)

You're not one to take my
      breath, or steal my heart,
But how could I not exclaim-
    at my ears hearing your voice!
  (setting myself as an exclamation mark)

So I'd only question-
  whether the words and
          expressions,
  Are far too much?
      (I'm open to your suggestions)

Stuck in between being
broke & broken,
While finding
hope, & looking so hopeless
In between being
loved & trying to love
In between
falling in love & falling apart
While constantly
questioning myself & questioning God
In a game of
weighing the odds & feeling so odd.
      
      But whether which side I’m on,
                 in the end I feel so stuck.

Feeling a taste of bliss, a heart fluttered
With anticipation in that fleeting moment
Just before our lips met in a tender kiss.

In muted shades of grey, a smile that had
Once lit up your face seemed to fade away,
Almost as though the vibrant taste of you
Wouldn’t taste the same- we’re never the same

As we met, searching for the worth of love –
This love of ours, a love that came with change.

We were laughing miles away from the corner
Of real love, but it was long distance relationship
For you and I; I can only love you from a corner.

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

Stuck to your rear,
enjoying a ride- I'm a bumper sticker

Sorry I can't think of a better pickup line,
you should know I'm not so good at thinking straight
whenever you're around

Pardon my misdemeanor,
I've made a few crimes for love; a few wrongdoings,
but I promise when you're not around, I'm still thinking
out loud to keep you in my view

I've been traveling for so long,
Swimming in the depths of the Ocean's sun
And I could kiss a thousand girls, but I could only love one
My lady,— has that bush fire, that makes it seem like
Her water's could be split apart with a Moses tongue.

She's got the snap of a buckle, just to support her Levi jeans
And I must have bitten the apple bottom a couple of times,
That she paid the full levy in her family genes.
Her kisses are like the blocks of ice in sweet lemonade,
And she may butler your thoughts, but trust me she's a self-made.

She's a dime on the quarter mile of my mind,
Running on it, with that chasing perfect smile
That makes you wish a moment could stay awhile,
So when I think of her, I can't help but have a stupid smile.

I pressed my best tears against the door; it must have been me
slowly opening up to you — you probably took me as your pet,
waiting for the pat of comfort from your hand. I felt the glow of
your heart, resting my head on your chest, that felt like sunlight
cushions.

You asked me so softly, "what's so heavy on your mind, love,"
like a cat seduced by curiosity. Even as I tried to pretend that
everything was okay, it seemed wishful thinking inside of
Aladdin's cave — I caved, telling you, "I can't feel this very
familiar pit in my heart."

Like a fire lit in the dark, between us there's always been this
attractive spark— a man overthinks himself, when it comes to
admitting that he's fallen in love. The words don't slip out so
easily off the tongue; but they wrestle their way around the
closed mouth.

But I've always had my suspicions that you secretly knew;
reading the words in my eyes. And when you replied it back
to me with a smile; I laugh about it now, picturing how silly
we looked, when we both smiled stupid smiles.

I keep words to myself
as like the presence you keep
and present it to a word in small portions
-as the presents I have, as it's gift
present thoughts that soon become
a presentation for the future,
as your strength at times challenges the weak
In a period of how long I should respond
to hateful words; I know at times it takes
about a week.

Constantly saying, "I'm fine, I'M FINE,"
as shown to a man, as a pricey kind of
response, and ticket to nothing close to
freedom, and depression being it's fine
As I've tried to propel myself forward
into a fake kind of happy, one row at a time,
Still I'm likely stuck in the line of my own
frustrations, and waiting to picked out of
that row.

Still call me a sinner,
someone to at least say, "I've seen it all"
maybe to have sin for all
I should have said no, but I'd use that
careless phrase, "I didn't know, I DIDN'T KNOW."

                   Nah, my subconscious always knew it all.

Snip, Snip,

Our youth: a graze of grass, in
youngest beauty' field;
lively, but withered under sun—
all heated moments we'll treasure,
as proof succession is time,
for a new to replace an old.

Could be our last to touch,
at the speed of love
I don't plan myself to rush.
The only one to beat,
the sound of ear to your heart.

Could be our last to love,
it won't be enough.
Kiss me straight after we hug,
the feeling drains whenever you're gone.

Love often can ****.

Would you teach me how to love a little –
even for the little bit of the time we actually have,
right before you have to let me go…

Even if we end all things being mean to each other
could we share one final kiss, as if the spark of
our love still flickers; to know what love means –

Grant me a love that can lift these tears; pulling the
daggers out from my heart, just to etch your
memory on my skin – even when we’re no longer
connected, these tight knots in my chest suffocate me!

In a wicked twilight- I had dreamt a suicidal dream, roaming
around deserted lands; screaming within. As every tear drop
was just a dew drop watering the lands; I once envisioned
as a blank page of life- those colours drained away.

My smile is covered in the ink of a tear; as I wondered if I
could catch them running quick- flowing to the pavement by
every blink. Soon after the rain-washed the days, everything I
once seen, became so, so, so bleak.

I caved into the arms of someone- her flush pink cheeks
injected the clouds with their colours, that you could pick
apart. Sealing the pit of despair in a glass jar, stealing from
time a lingering kiss, to scatter wide and far.

Hoping that this time, this time I won’t find comfort in
an element that burns in time's fire. Scorching my soul to
the ends of longing to meet death again.

            Till I realized, I wasn’t dreaming at all.

Visions of death,
a love letter I wrote while dreaming about suicide-
She was in love with herself, and I loved her
to death; a slow cause to my own demise

I try my best as though it seems,
Get lost in the middle of all my dreams.
While a crack on the wall has much say
I'll cover it right over to say I'm okay.
I don't understand.

For no-one looks when I expose myself
Or gives concern when I show my wealth
I don't understand.

The emotions I ride feels like an Ocean peer
And the drowning affect feels so tightly near.
My lungs will drown as my face will weep
I'm going down so deep.

Why I act this way doesn't seem to make any sense
I don't understand.

I see myself right in the mirror
But sometimes I think my own reflection will soon disappear.
And the day seems to be a set picture drawing near.
I don't understand.

I'll be myself when they look away
And be like them like them on any other day.
Then I'll fall asleep.

Just to go repeat
Follow my voice through it's dead beat.
And sit right close to my heart as I find my seat.
Then I'll understand.

Follow me inside my dreams,
I don't plot but I make up schemes.
Trail behind the sound of my voice
But don't be inclined to if it's not your choice.
If you understand.

I have endured through the shadows of despair,
chronicling the haunting spectre of suicide,
Each word a desperate attempt to vanquish
her insidious thoughts, that creep back into
my mind.

As long as I draw breath - I live to write,
and write more so, to stay alive.

If I **** this world,
is it not suicide.
The same world we live in,
is the same blood of human,
Where we all reside.

"I wish I could just die in my sleep,
to never wake up and remain a foreign
memory in my sweetest dream
A tattoo printed on the skin's of time,
rolled up by life's sleeve
With nothing more to give, as only a fraction of a second;
I'd divide myself to give people less grief
To be a tale; a folklore about my life,-
as a passing rumor on the streets
Let me go in peace, still with a piece of myself,
to that last breath of relief."

    Sadly,
        these are just the many thoughts I have
            to comprehend, each night I try to fall sleep.

I'm a lonely leaf;
          falling away in
                the  
                      Winds.

A cement of ideas;
    paved in
                  pain
On the Avenue of
               Destiny's street.


Hanging onto life;
          threading needles
                  In my back

Puppet strings,
   tied to things-
                 That I lack.
                
            Only for tonight;
      I'll love myself

But by tomorrow;
                Wish I could be  
         anyone else.

                  Bring your love;
     trade you my pain

Bring your scars;
                I could give you
      an escape
                        
                            Bring your thoughts;
     and leave  
            your brain.

Close your eyes;         To see what's
                      really inside
Put an X;            On two of my I's
                     XII;

Lose your air-
to remember how it;
               feels to be alive.  
  
                      But you'll still
             survive;
                         Even with
death on  
                 your mind
                        
                      Stay strong;
                           stay alive.

As the searing, ashen smoke erupts violently from
its flaring nostrils, it envelops me in a suffocating
Embrace, each inhalation a cruel reminder of the
scalding heat that sears my delicate skin.

I am crushed beneath the weight of its colossal hooves,
like a forgotten stone lost in the depths of a murky,
Unyielding puddle — its foreboding silhouette, crowned
with a mane as dark as the abyss, gallops through the
Labyrinth of my thoughts, casting a chilling shadow that
clings to me, a relentless spectre that whispers of doom.

This creature, a true harbinger of death, exudes a frigid,
acrid scent of regrets that seem to claw at the very core
Of my existence — night after night, my dreams are invaded
by tormenting visions, vivid and unyielding, mapping out
the grim path to my own funeral – a foul stench; chilling
reminder of cold regrets that claw at my very last breath.

I see a pristine white coffin, adorned with stark white
blooms, marred by the crimson stains from my own wrists.
And amidst these agonizing dreams, the ominous beast
stands tall, solemnly bearing the weight of my coffin towards
An unknown afterlife, a spectral horse of death draped in
the deepest shadows, embodying the very essence of my
self-inflicted demise.

I’ve been wanting to die –
But it’s been taking so much time,
So, I rang up suicide…

Greetings, O Death, why do you not approach? You are aware of my
depression, and we both recognize I’m such a mess; speaking from
my chest, while my heart is shielded by a metaphorical bulletproof
vest. I am shattered in this tomb-like gloom; those funeral regrets of
not having the power to decide if I’ll be dressed at my level of best.
The residue of sorrow clings to my breath, like coal dust – as every
train of thought rides the tracks of my morbid dreams of death.

But do you know the sound of pain – those around me seem so deaf,
even as I look like a piece of parched land; my eyes are a dry red -
I have no real tears left.

I’ve been wanting to die –
But it’s been taking so much time,
So, I rang up suicide…

Hey there, can you hear me now? These words may seem utterly
absurd, yet I strive to have my voice heard, like a solitary soul lost
among the herd. But maybe a gun to the head can make me seem so
heard – you know I’m just so hurt. Your silence lingers, and in this
suffocating darkness, that once-bright flame of passion feels so burnt.
I find myself devoid of tears, breath, or any glimmer of hope, and
though I rarely swear, I feel as if I am under a curse.

Lately, my inner demons have become my closest equals; my friends
feel more like other people– and this is the hardest part of my life,
that death seems so simple.

I’ve been wanting to die –
But it’s been taking so much time,
So, I rang up suicide…

In the spaces between my breaths, there’s heavy pauses; as I give out
a lot of fake poses. Here I stand, at the intersection of my loneliness,
waiting for you, in hand – a bunch of roses. I’ve had to force myself to
accept these ungodly forces – trying to worship, even as I view my
existence as a sea full of war ships.

But maybe you shouldn’t call my line – when I’m hanging with
family, that have me feeling like hanging myself; it was a folly,
pretending to them that I was always fine.

Until we cross paths again someday. Bye!

behind dark humour
behind a confident fake smile
behind a humble demeanour
behind growls and random sighs

behind seemingly a character's eager
behind lonely quick responses to one you like
behind oversized clothes over scars on your figure
behind acting like you can walk on a thin wire

behind jokes of saying you're much bigger
behind pretending you're not waking up tired
behind thoughts of shooting shots on a tiny trigger
behind explaining dreams of burning passion—fired

behind a simping hero, playing self villain's vigor
behind seasonal seasoning of a season to cry
behind truthful scripture, and thoughts of a sinner
                                  suicide lurks behind a mind

To anyone who cares enough to care for me, though I couldn't care enough myself...

Take care!

Sigh; why does everything I write turn out to be a poem? Why did I have to be the one so attached to their emotions? Why couldn't I have been a doctor,  a lawyer or even a **** mechanic? Instead I'm just this hopeless unheard poet.

I envy people for not what they have, but what I can never be. I can't be a man, and I'd never be a pretty enough woman. Can't stand up for myself, but constantly get cut down when I stand up for others. I've been labelled a ***** by my own brothers.

I know they don't say it in person- but I hear their thoughts in all those disappointing sighs.
And I've disappointed all the women in my life, and still act hopeful that I'll get a wife.

I'm bullied by friends, bullied by strangers Bullied by family, bullied by myself and people's impatience.

This wasn't supposed to be a poem!

Maybe it's a rant; maybe it's a way to cheer me up for not feeling like a man. Thinking about death while listening to jazz. Seems like I'm still far from the end, of a slow death.

Why won't I fall short out of breath, why won't God put me out of my misery because it's a misery being such a disappointment.

I can't trust my dreams, as they lead me to nothing good to hold onto. I trusted someone else's advice, and got accused by them; for being so stupid to listen to them. Then again;
I'd still take their advice again and again

I've been accused of being gay, and maybe my life would have been better if I swung that way.
But okay I could accept that accusation- still not when people say I'm so spoiled, to spoil my mood. Now I'm always doing things just for something to prove.

This wasn't supposed to be a poem!

I guess I couldn't stop these words from flowing. I'm just caught up in my usual emotions.

A note to some, noteworthy ending remarks.
For every tissue to a tear, is a tear to a new scar.

A suicide note to a public, in secret, away from family and friends. I'll be gone by this moment's end- saying goodbye to the old me. See you in ten..

                      surely this is now an end.

The eve draws close,
endeavoring to tame my frights,
Yet the sun, a superior champion,
steals the limelight.

I am everything
under the sun;

For the light
from above;

Shines within me.

Bright is my smile,
glaring to dark moments;

Bright is this child,
born to be a;
                    
                       Sun child.

Lost in sombre details, of what really hangs around morals
-Crucifix, hanging around a sinner’s neck; so choked up
While the devil speaks on my livelihood with his demons
Parading as unwanted guests; foundations of personal griefs
I am unguarded; not well versed in a couple scripture verses

Versions of my weekly self- a relaxed stance, trying to have
Faith in a life of ease. Setting aside everything else, in the
Way of being by my bedside- faithfully praying on my knees

Still if my faith is loosely based on modern people’s commitment
To their faith and integrity, I might as well be faithless as them all-  
Seated in a church; behind on my many debts, sitting at the back
Listening to the loud laughs of the greatest hypocrites,
The usual Sunday gossip, sounding clearer than a church bell
Leaders who burnt me, quick to preach how I might go to Hell

As a failed sense of wholesome community in communal
Around church clicks of skin colour, for Sunday’s different cults
In what my conscious tries to say is a domicile sanctuary:
I’m a bit reluctant to fully agree with my own self

Where  dreams  are
  under the tears of stars,
   my eyes  brittle brightsome;
    child-like manner-aforetime adult scars.

"And as I look above,
  cleared of thoughts-vile of ourselves
   wrestling the mind in mud;
     think of your God, for as His purity
        ...shall I too think in His ways"

So did she say;
  torn out title cover of her bible at hand.
   Sunday school teachers taught my
      infanthood lessons, still in adulthood.

Where the sun falls, we'll rise.
Horizons far beyond our lives,
the dawns yet to set.

Treasure the light that guides,
above all, the light within us.

Enlightened, boundless of blessings,
we ride the rays of Sun.
Above all else, a bright people,
the light of days, the bright Sun People.

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

The rays we feel,
his unconditional love for us.

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

God is great, and greatly loves us.

Beauty ashes;
rising up. Once in flame.
Tiniest dots in air;
sparked lights- Filtering into night.

Be gone with the night-
O dusk of flame;
great ball fire, behind mountains.

By once day, gone now with night.
Sunsets will fall on your days;
yet with patience- Anew rises again.

Blessings upon you.
Kisses of the sun be in your mouth;
to all, speak of life and light.

Beautiful are-
life's many sunsets.

Behind the clouds, the sun still shines,
Behind the pains, my sunshine still shines.

Just give it time, the clouds will go away,
Just give it time, it's going to be okay.

Be the sunshine, you always are today.

Money come in a little
more quarters,
You'll be acting changed,
feed a beggar a little,
He'll always ask for more,
put your trust in a liar,
And you'll never find rest.

Surely Instead,

Money should never change you,
you change how it's used,
Do more by a beggar,
and teach them how to work for their own.
Line out all your friends,
and path through the trusted ones.

Some days my bones feel fractured,
Even where all the bells resonate;
The ravenous bite that indulged
Too deeply – polished by its outlines.

Having faced the forces of nature;
Maybe the element of surprise,
Is not being so surprised at all,
At the relentless cycle of challenges
That perpetually emerge.

Ultimately, we are all merely
Trying to survive.

Try to buy you roses. Hoping you care.
"Knock, knock", by your Heart. Hope someone's there.

Liberty of freedom between hips.
Taste of Love between lips.

ATM withdrawals to have all my money for you in checks.
But I'd fear of it not being my own withdrawal in the latex.

And not all sweet words sound the same,
Try driving slow in a fast lane.

Hiding often wise behind the camera lens,
Just hate for the love to be for a season, like loving the current trends.

Hold up on the minute just to have a second gone.
So many love tracks on the radio, but not singing the same song.

Really just too scared to wake up all alone.
Birthday wishes all on my own.

Dear, don't you run away from me. Try to follow you behind at a slow pace.
Holding on the best memories for closure just in case.

Just wanna be all that I could be.
Just longing for the clearer pictures I could see.

It's suspenseful but what could I do.

I imagine the witty hooks
of young ones in love.

He tells her, "aren't you a strawberry
looking like a cherry on top!"

"We're in this jam together,
light of my eye my Sunjam."

And how with a loaf of words,
he'd end with,

"I'll let nothing get in between us;
but be between two slices of bread."

                                              Turning cheeks red and sweet.

Building memories in place of your feet
—all the footprints get washed by the seas
Roaming visitors to the last drop of your love;
we’re arriving to the destination of your lips
I’ve found them worth more, than the sum they
come with; I desire some more kisses amongst all

Shall we tomorrow sail into the sea, our love
celebrating alive- as the ocean’s waves come to meet
You’ve washed my face with so many tears of joy
as the air we share of lips embrace, are winds of passion

Whence from your honey *** resides, is the taste
of desire of you, I cannot find a retreat from

I found a beautiful threshold of you
-lost somewhere, in one of my dreams
the very last of us both laughing, speaking love,
singing sweet nothings, being the best stanzas; -
these days it’s just callous lines, of a forgotten poem.

the dew of my tears feels wet on tight sleeves
the sweat from my brow jumps like water in springtime
and if I could use words to describe my heart – it would
only seal away my lips

my tears are like scattering flowers
blown away by the winds – my lungs are a leafless branch
veiled in such a dry cough; choking away at my pride

nights I’ve dreamt of suicide, to live on
and tell of it lies; it was an empty void that wouldn’t fill
the belly of some hungry wild dog – and if I could speak
a fruitful prophecy for my life, my lips would be the scent of plums.

Let’s start to make impure this fine linen, tainted
by both our body’s heat— our feet wrapped into
each other; open yourself to me, wide as these
clouds part away from the sky, to paint out such
an astounding spectacle

Along the pairs of flowers on your cheeks, right
here on this rosy bed, while words are floating at early
morn pillow talk; as that after pleasure still chases
after us both until the noon

Could we not have at another go, if it’s not too soon?

Soon as the wheels start to turn, upon these grinding
mills; my thoughts feel placed on that aware grinding stone
— that after most of my corny remarks, they somehow get
from you a serial response, to this series of our love making

As my summer to my eventual fall; the rev of my rocket engine
that yearns to break through the atmosphere of such fleshly walls-
a world that men look so forward to get lost while they explore

Could I implore you to let our horizons light up abroad; brushing
our warmth against one another of rays like a blanketing sun—
we still could mix a bit of fun with teasing harm. And capture the
savouring flavour of this love as it is found

As how I found you, isn’t how I’ll leave you- as
my left behinds- besides your behind’s juicy fruit
there’s still a bowl of the tree that I must sample
of its sweetened vines

This honey of the moment, has made jealous bees
crash land into that closed window- their sting of
which makes them so short lived. Yet the sting of your
lips, proves the revival of my stinger’s gift, to pull
the nectar that waits for me from the flower’s honest
form

Tables are set in place; the appetizers have run their
course of these sweet nothing’s words; as the di-vine
air becomes so thick- trying to challenge your cheeks
as my eyes appear as a lost lion in need— a lioness
burning away in her heat. Come to me oh darling, to find
such a sweet release

In deeps of love
   (termless)
We're only drowning;
trying to swim to the end.

Antisocial much,
Because I'm too afraid to spill out my heart.
Cautiously I chose all of my words,
Doesn't mean they won't work on your nerves.
Effortlessly I try to be the humble type,
For the sake of being someone you'd like.

God created me as this person of late,
Holding onto his will and onto my fate.
I know at times I can't get a grip of things,
Joyously I hold the tiny pieces of all my dreams.

Kassan! You should be brave as much as you can,
Let the world speak for it's own, you're still a man!

Many will see you as different,
Neither could label you inefficient.
Open your eyes dear child,
Piece together yourself from inside.
Quietly listen to the guiding voice in your mind.
Realize your worth,
Seek to be worth more every single day, right from your birth.

Time always seems limited,
Understand not to steal time and become a criminal.

View yourself in the better light of a furious fire,
Walk a walk that will inspire.
X out your fears,
Zero in firstly on what's meant to be real.

take recognition of your life
recognise a world pushing us to strife
all hoping to strive, but the t.v. screens
weaponize our eyes

i only see death—vision red
lower case responses, from short ideas
in my head

i sing an empty prayer into hymn
synonymous; to my wits on whim
a shadow of a dream, royally *******
without king

forms of standards and practices
place children into idealistic formation
enclosed imagination; modern day camp
of concentration

none see, a sort of ****—fascism
destruction of a natural world—cataclysm
being destroyed by public opinion—vandalism
only knowing watched picture loves—romanticism
in a world that took a whizz on wisdom

              ...take recognition, to the strings of puppets
                            the world is broken; quite obvious

I held you like:
a new born child,

Wondering how I could keep
the fires of life in the light of your eyes.

For even if I had to hold
you as my wife,
Life does change drastically a single
heart into marriage' life.

After the church bells,
the clapping applauds,
as tears see you walk down that isle,
I see the pretty flower. Praying
I know how well to take care of a rose.

Yes love does grow,

But only of what you make
it grow into.
Everything grows, the hate, love,
guilt, and fears.
And in the coming years,
you'll start to see what you grew.

Yes love is time,

But how much of it are
you spending it on a pretty lie?
When she asks you, "what's wrong,"
and your pride won't let you cry.
When you shy away the obvious mistakes,
and she still sees you for you,
But you still want to hide.

Yes love is commitment,

But you could commit to something
you didn't sign up for.
Argue with each other on the
first night. *** becomes a rival,
because you try to sound right; quoting
scriptures from the Bible.

Yes love is truth,

But not all we admit,
eases all that hurt.
I thought as much, I would be
safe if I admitted it first.
Asking me if that wedding dress
still fits, and my response made
you question your worth.

Love is just that.
Something we don't fully understand.
We could hold onto past grudges;
more than we hold hands.

But I would love you past that,
for if we never move past the
heaviest of all tears,
We'd never make it to dryer land.

So if you're scared to love,
darling I can only understand.
But we could both brave this
love together. Just firstly take this hand.

We'll hold on together.