Limitations, borders and other things,
Only measure as being paper thin.
Fragile and unnoticeable, unseen.
Indistinguishable, that's the saying.
Flammable, we set it on fire, burning.

These boundaries that confine us, traps us.
Misunderstandings that causes creases,
Within the limits of our heart's pieces,
Often becoming remorseful saps, us.

This very thin line that divides concepts,
May be a hindrance or an annoyance.
But just like how paper is most useful,
This separation gives us some clearance,
As we write about exciting prospects.

Vices, heartbreak and spices,
Oh how enamored we can be.
It's all so amusing to us,
How we can die drowning at sea,
Drowning with our aroused senses.

It's all exhilarating!
How a tiny spat can spit blood,
Pushing up the daisies to go splat!
As you see the pavement and hear a thud.

You lay in flat in bed then you sat,
Thinking of every detail and all.
Other's drown in alcohol instead.
It's a good thing you didn't fall.
Because curiosity would've killed the cat.

Blinded by dreams so bright,
He who walks at night,
As darkness surrounds,
His very own twilight.

Walking, falling, getting hurt,
Waking up to reality,
Crying, sobbing, shattered dreams,
A gruesome, bitter twist of fate.

Stuck in a hole made of dirt,
Awaiting his ambiguity,
He lets out despairing screams!
Abandoned, he just hopes to wait.

As the night ends with fright,
He wakes up to find sunlight,
A nightmare has left his house,
To fall in love in his sleep.

Perspectives subjective to only me,
Like leaves of a tree unique to it's branch.
Like a raindrop from a specific cloud,
Even grains in the soil, unique snow flakes,
And even the cells within your body!

It's not hers, it's mine... it's not hers it's mine!
This heart, this soul, these feelings, it's not hers.
The pain, sorrow and misery, I whine!
Wallowing in hopeful despair, it blurs.

It's all so simple in truth as you see,
It falls on me, cold like an avalanche.
Like something heavy has fallen, a crowd.
Like a car crashing due to worn-out breaks.
This unrequited love for somebody.

They say that poems should include seasons,
Pictures, feelings, sensations; 'imagery'.
Whether it be a concoction, something,
Everything, anything, even nothing.
Whether it be things, memories, persons.

Meticulous pixels make up pictures,
Like when I fell, I had many sutures.
So accurate, captured and so painful.
Imagery of warmth, my heart beats blood red.

I've admired you for some time, oh my.
Your imagery of such indistinct hues!
Like abstact art, leaving me asking: 'Why?'
Gawking, in awe, you're igniting the fuse!
An imagery: 'Burning love in ashes.'

Questions and doubts dance about,
In my mind, my soul, my heart.
Here I am confused you see,
Here I am tangled and unfree.

Chained around my head are fears,
My heart's fierce as I long to disappear.
I exist as a breath of air,
As I wallow in tears of despair.

I'm crying with no seen tears,
Like the clouds they disappear.
Clouds so bitter, of hate, of dread,
Here my heart is rotten and dead.

Vague clouds and feet so firm,
My vision is blurry while I squirm.
Like a worm that meets with salt,
Is my love with denying fault.

Here's my poem of disease so eerie,
My love for you who's made me clearly.
Clearly crazy, damaged, deranged,
Here I profess my heart's bitter rage.

Deny, deny, I will deny,
My heart's love I hope I die.