I have a crazy *** appeal,
My fruit of time is in-between conscience thoughts and no protection

My threats of sanity lie between lust and your timeless ticks of sweat as they drip from friendly lines of maturity and trust
Whom should I trust?
Am I your friend?
I have no friends

I chew the base of my thumb like you lick the insides of my brain,
Another worldly combustion I feel nonetheless to my ulterior motives
As I ride on your pink pony of sweet faith,
My sunsets drip on your flesh,

My love is like a fly sitting on your neck,
licking off sweat
As you close your eyes and tilt your hair,

My boom breaks into a million Constellations

And now it's raining,
What a perfect day to ****!
I have washed the blood
With my blackened eye
An wrote you off the will;

I hope that you find amusement
When I fight your battles
I'll keep shut, bow my head
And I promise I won't tattle

It's a shame on a rainy day
To **** men and joy
I hope I can replace him
With another boy toy.

My Japanese house is made of four walls,
North East with Kita
And South West with Tsurugi,

I painted my walls with nail chips that I bought from my land,
It's inhabited with skunk tails and sesame seeds,
I paint my walls for five scores and ten.

I bring unto my love into this foreign land,
splendour with Shobu and Lily,

I lie in peace and quiet as I stare at my Japanese walls.
The paint crumbles and falls upon me.

Merciless to attempts of bearing your heart,
He dressed up in flowery carnations
Truest of the fidelity, winter grabbed your hand
A mock of self esteem, history taught Athenian women
To be bold and ruthless

He thought Sunday would be a bloodbath,
By Monday you'd sleep in your bed
Athenian women wear bricks on their genitalia
It is hard to summon love

A little dance and **!

If it had to be a Monday morning
where children aren't slaughtered with rendezvous of competitive parents fighting fugitive,
And Sunday would be left behind
No Emily! Monday is for love making

Might I dance the trojan horse
And sneak into your heart,

Manners hath not maketh man.

I'd like to pack my suitcase
For the night
And drift away
In the high sky.

I'd like to ask who are we or
Who am I
When the northern wind blows over the sea

I'd like to ask what we are going to be
Whether fifty or free,
I'd like to lie on the softest grass
Under the skies
For an eternity.

There are puddles near my house,
Puddles near my heart

You have got to be an artist
You have filled my life with art

I will sunshine you with love,
Don't leave me alone my lovely,

I will rest in peace
When I'll share an umbrella with you.

Can I share an umbrella with you?

Tell me my lovely,
I have hid my pain with failed attempts and perfumes.

I'm sorry, but I am terribly ****** up.

I'll try to mend things and smell your hair occasionally
I'll try to wipe medicines and love letters off your turquoise stained coffee shirt;

I'll even apologize and mend what's mine
I'll bare my heart to you,
I'll bare my heart to you
My dear Valentine.

It's not fair
I have loved you immeasurably
I have loved you too much,
I have loved you every time you took my name,
I have loved you even when you left
I have loved you when everybody else left,
I have loved every part of you.
I have loved you even when my heart could bear no more
I have loved you even when there were no fireworks when you felt low and down
I have loved you when you turned to look at me and your eyes sparkled with life
I have fought against slavery
But I'm bound forever.

Release me never.
Thank you for loving me.

I wonder if it is normal for people to pass through a stage where the obvious is the content by which we spill tears every day or that our lives and eyes come to a total zero. There is no hope for recovery and you know that this is the most horrible phase to be stuck in. There is no movement for the future or any optimistic approaches to be happy or be better in the nearing future. Life is tough and i have to accept it at this point. I know that there are various kinds of depression which we face everyday. There is the economical one, and also people are healthwise improper due to which they lead a very uneasy life. But there is the thing about mental trauma. Mental trauma kills everything on the inside. It's like a ******* acid truck burning everything inside you. There is no lead forward, there is no happiness beyond and lastly even if you cry for help, no one will be beside you. You stand alone. You are alone and you have to face all of this by yourself. If you want to **** yourself, you have to cut your veins, there won't be anybody beside you.
I hope i go to a pretty world next life.
I really hope so.

"What is 'Revolution' mum?
And why are there men with hats?"

"They fight for the country baby,
They are the good lads"

"Then what is my sister doing?
Holding placards and such?"

"Oh, that is nothing,
They are doing just for fun"

"She cries at home mum,
I don't want her to be sad,
When I asked her why you don't support her
She replied that you thought it was bad
Mum, she fights for the right things
And not for lies that are sold,
She says maybe you are deluded
And your thoughts are frail and old."

lies between cyanide and methane,
Geographically non-traceable

Has no life
Neither tropical favourites

Soil is like an angry ****
Bears no hills

Rumours run true,
men have killed themselves
Looted
Shaved

It serves as an empty pain,
It bears my name.

Welcome unto,
No Man's land.

I left an umbrella at the bus stop
The umbrella was yellow and grey
It had broad stripes on either sides
It was used during rain and a sunny day

The umbrella was left alone,
Along came a dog with a bone
And in the ardent summers of may
Beside the umbrella it lay;

A day later, A man came with his wife
She looked at the umbrella and thought it was pretty nice
They waited for the bus to arrive,
But the umbrella lay still at the side

It was one day when I came back again
And saw the umbrella held it's place,
It's handle was broke and filled with grease
It was filled with holes, yet stood with ease
It fell on the ground
When it was pushed by my little niece
My umbrella was abandoned again,
It had gone weary and with rusty chains.

Mom, help me
Help me please
There is a monster
In the bed beneath

I cannot understand the world
They think I'm lying
Help me please!

Tell them that the sky is purple
Tell them, that the world is dark
It scares me!

I tell them I see ghosts!
I see them crawling in my headspace
They whisper death in my ears
They show me new ways!

I'm not an addict, i have seen people leave
They made me cry mom
They lied to me, please believe!

Mom, hold me at night
I want to see the stars
I want to see pretty pictures in your eyes

I try to clean my eyes
I clean them everyday

I try to breathe but they stare at me in the night

Mom, please love me
Please love me

I want to put an end to this fight.

I'll be waiting with dead roses
In a little horse and prim
White roses are sinful
And I ain't your kin
I'll be calling out to you
When it's dark and grey
I hope you come back home
And make love to your prey
I hope you come back home
And love me everyday.

Snow has gathered and it's time to go
I wonder whom I'll chase
I have packed my bags for the holidays
But home is a person, not a place.

In this vast sky and land of green,

I look for orange skies it seems

In midst of pain and sudden grey

I am an unwelcome home to stay;

In death of you and your ghost it seems

I still search for orange dreams


In dusk I find the lies and truth
I find orange skies when I think of you

I could be a shaman, and imagine my wife making pancakes
And little children playing around with hand-made kites;

Truest behind dreams that interpret our living,
I have been scrammed inside a 7/9 metal jar
Where the only living creature swimming around
Is imaginary and I call her hope;

People do not advertise money;

And I hoped they did!
Life would be a whole lot easier.

papers are one dollar each!
Sentiments are beyond reach!
My pet dog seems to be busy scraping of dead meat off the ground
Smoke and gold, a melancholy!
The honorary debate between mistrust and a dead fetus!
The wait for a pension which serves blood and redemption
Who would have thought that drama was scarred on my *******!
As to who stabs whom,
THE DEAD IS THE DEAD *******
TRY TO BREATHE YOU INCESSANT FOOL
THE LINES OF LOVE!
Tell me more of your fables
full of
LIES, LIES AND LIES!

soft fur

methyl scented grass

little black eyes scampered

bit off the ends

chewed and then

was shot dead

soft fur

now red.

Into a lunatic's drive,
I disheveled my car
It was made of melons, pineapple and figs
And an apple fish head ****
It has dead flies
Into the fiery lake, my Lucifer lives in a monastery
I rotate my cross
I hood my disguise,

My lucifer is made out of lies.

I remember when I met you back in winter
It was snowing outside and really cool,
I meant to send postcards through the summer,
I wanted to hand you the moon;

I remember every book that you were reading,
You face glowed like crystal through the noon,
I'll love you forever, my lovely,

I'll hang myself really soon.

How hurt are you,
Brother how hurt are you.

Are you tired of your fruitless attempt of falling love
And chasing sunsets,
How hurt are you.

Who hurt you brother?
Who hurt you?

Was it a pile of rubble
Or the midnight train,
Who hurt you?

Are you dead brother,
Are you dead?

You have died a thousand times in your heart
And shot a bullet through your head.

Sometimes you reach out to grab the moon;
Only to realise, it is a false satellite screen.

Who are we,
Are we who we say we are
Are we the friends we pretend to be
Are we the lovers we fake at night
Are we the people we promise and then lie

Who am I,
But an illusion,
Lost in time
Forevermore,
Blind, and in love.

I want to sit in a bathtub and cry
And sniff the steam and the pain
And the meanders and harrowing clean snip snap of my veins

I'd submerge myself into a land of pirates and ships where limits are endless and I sniff the steam from the engine's gate

Only to see that there is water beneath

My feet is dry and I submerge to endless breath and void
My Skin defeats the straight of sin and I am left with no choice.

My bathtub is the ocean floor and fishes gleam and glow
My childhood is crying next door
And I, am no more.

You keep eating melons like you're kissing me,
You curl you lips on it like you are missing me

And I stare as the light falls on your eyes,
Everyday it's like a lullaby;

I may have God on my side to feel your skin,
You are an art of Van Gogh to begin with

I know I lie when I say that you are mine,

Into your eyes
It's a disguise, in the sea and the stars
With every thunderstorm I rush into your arms
Then I wake up next to you and you were never mine,

It's a lie, you're by his side.

what is your religion i asked Jesus
He said command of life
I asked Ram, the prophet and chronicles of brave
They said they died under a knife
I asked the beggar whom he worships
Money and a certain flower
Religion is a questionable thought
which changes by every hour
What is a relic i ask
what is God
what is power
whom to worship
whom to kneel to
what is religion
what is a blind man's idol

My grey hair and seventy,
I have falsely grown my teeth,
I stand naked under city lights
I have cancer in my knees;

My wrinkled torso and mid-day job
Put me in my grave with bore
I remember the days I had little money,
Grades in my 10th grade I had scored;

I feel alive today under city lights
Once again I have been born
Before I die, my eyes should see the city lights
Instead of grass in the lawn.

I keep bowing down to you,
You are mine to keep.

It's time I'd forget that
And wipe my tears and go to sleep;
I'd find somebody else

I blink and I deceive.

After hours, when I'm home
With less than a man, a dog, maybe a gnome;
I'd like to think that memories kept me alive
But alas! it was the lies,
If I smoke any of those e-cigars,
I might as well choke when I look at the sky
Or she who had no friends,
Or she who met her end;
She who lied about poetry to win his love,
Now pushing e-cigarettes through her spine;

I was alone, Alone as I grew up
I poured my own whisky, I shared my own cup,
I'm Fine, I'm sorry,
I'm alive, and the lies
And the lies piled up like old report cards
Whom did I marry for life?
I'm a pathological liar in disguise;

You said I looked like a painting, I gleamed!
Edward Munch drew me, I screamed.

There is a town sir,
It has grown feeble and old,
It has lanes and dreams
That had liquor in them when it sold;
And a red house
That beats like a hurricane
And a woman with pearl locks
Has the door engraved with her name;

She had left sir,
The house had caught fire
I am in search of a fire marshal,

I am no liar.

She walked into a room to find
butterflies that their owners had left behind

They were dead and scattered around;

She fell on the floor and shut her eyes

he ripped her head and stabbed her twice,



She was left to die
In a room full of butterflies.

I'm an anorexic womb of hate and guts
But the dawn of May, i must **** myself.

May taught me that he may come back.
Or that he may not.

Psychologically you may lick the blood of your neighbour
But then again, you may **** her unborn child
Or you may not

Have you seen May? the girl who lives down the lane
She slept with many men, but not with their souls.

She may be my new friend.
I may sleep with her too

He may love me someday and
I may return my love for him.

But then again,

I may not.

I ensambled five Mediterranean men in a vase,
I cut their limbs and the aura it spilled;

Limbless and lifeless they looked pretty in my vase,
I gathered them from the valleys in the south,
And chopped their heads off.

It is made of wood
You bend and pinch
your eyes, your head
Your notes are in the sink.

A sharp pencil, an inkblot
a page, few books maybe
You lie down and draw a face
And rub it off "it's crazy"

And you will grow 60
with your desk
bend your head down
like the rest

So before you do
You need to ask

"Can you fly?"
"I want to fly."

The truth is,
everybody is sad;
Someone lost their mama,
Someone killed theirs,
It might have been a long marriage
Or he might have been insincere
Your friends might have left you
Or your pet collapsed,

You need a death pill,
She won't love you back.

One day I'll stop sending songs to you
And we'll retreat on to open fields
We'll dance with wrinkled socks
In the Artic between bears and seals

We'll find a way and paint pretty skies
I'll finally get to see you laugh with the sunset in your eyes

One day, I'll stop pretending to hate you
And hold you tight

I hope that one day will come someday,

And it shall last from morning to the night.

I wish I met you again.
Where the sunlight scorched and my eyes met yours,
It was unknown and new
But my heart had never beaten faster,
A horse pumping his pumping *******,
A stallion!
And the sweat that trickled down my neck
Longing to only make you mine,
All that adrenaline, all that sweat
I wish I met you again,
We could be foolish and dance in the rain,
Or make silly choices and hop on a train;

How I wish,
I met you again.

The hills are calling out to me
It's time i gathered my belongings'
I'm a young traveller,
A kindred spirit
It's to you I call out no more,
I travel alone
I travel the seas,
I travel the noise,
I travel the desert
I travel without a choice
And once I travel, there's no turning back
I am my own wolf pack,
I'll get lost in the woods and leave no clue

One find day, you'll lose my track.

For love, my beloved I compose no more of these sullen sonnets,
I would stare into your corazon and eyes that symmetry mine;

My love, my Jupiter, my universe in thine palms,
Your shadow in my arms,
My old and bickering laugh
And your back that stifles the old shrine,
You would be the world's lost diadem,
And little of mine,
I would die and be reborn in thine arms till the end of time.

I will float in the waters of Ganges till the end of time;

To be or not to be
A ratio in my mind

I'd like to ***** a needle
And run through burrows of sanctity
The alien nights of virtue
And pirates of Kashmir

My red, a colour of freedom

I'll probably call it sickness,
sickness of the mind,
the wrath of terrible timings,

I freaked out at escapades,
kind of a terrible night,
we are two people,

We don't want each other in our sights.

I am sick of it kindly,
Good sir, I will shapeshift into your complaints
I will be invisible and unsociable and kind of insane.

These pills aren't doing me any good
They are cheap from the local goodwill
They are made of rainbows and **** stained thoughts
And still I swallow them gladly.

I wonder how in a forest fire,
I walk with naked arms,
Take a spin,
give me a pill
Let me fight with your naked guns.

They are strangers;
They talk about the sun, the leaves and how they made love when they were seventeen,

They are strangers;
If I may, I observe the spring as it succumbs to a hurricane,

They are strangers;
They evolve from chimps
They drink from their failures and dive into their sins

They are strangers;
They are like metal bars with rust

I am a stranger,
And I'll soon evolve
Into dust.

Today I smoked *** and looked at the sky,
My mind slowly went to Neverland
Somewhere between never it's gonna be,
Neverland, never who,
I would never find people who are true,
I went to the pit of the universe and thought
About a mermaid who swam like me
She got dumped in the sand
And was forced to turn into a man under the tree,
To wake up with a warm cup of tea
Who are you
And am I me,
Whoever thought that memories weren't easy
It isn't dear man,
I will cry and tell you
Who can be
And who can't
You aren't part of my memory
Why are you in black and white
You seem sad and important
But I have no place for you in my life
I could cry and mop and compare my trigger
With a sad friend
But who has got time for friends
Or for people who use you like  a bag of ****
Whom are you living for
Grow up, men aren't born with wings
I am about to tell you to be a man and go get drunk,
You aren't a christmas holiday, your life isn't fun
I am gonna trigger a bullet young man,
I am sorry that I couldn't make it through
If I feed my brain a bullet
And make it through the end,
Maybe in the next life,
We could be friends.