I prefer to sleep all day long
You see, keep my eyes closed
Than stare at this multitude of ants
following the taste of something sweet
Where are you? In a hopeless dream I had
as I wallowed in the bitter reality
of your absence..
your absence..
your absence..
I will live to dream you are here
darling,
I hope those ants keep away from you
Lest you be bitten..
Lest you close your eyes.
-Tina RSH

Walls! Walls! Build ten thousands.
Wolves, Wolves on their way
Wolves without a prey
Blindfolded by hunger
Drink your tea, water the flowers
and go build walls!
fortify your chest with ferocity
for a fight tooth and nail with the foe
wolves! wolves!
Ready to consume your heart's nectar
and get drunk.
Wear your armour and hit the road
Vultures fly close to your head
and wolves are on their way.
Drink your tea
and keep your sword at hand.

Pulling at opposite ends of a rope
we put in our best effort
we both won the contest, darling.
and bragged of our power.
I have nothing left at this hour
Except for a rope around my neck
made out of your honeyed voice
confessing love over and over again
Alas! choking is not much of a choice
a dancing derelict dream in my eyes
along with each cell in my heart dies
Poor wretched foolish ghost of mine
now revolves around your house
like a twitching old mouse
to make sure you drink your tea
Every afternoon, but you
Still, unbothered and lowkey
As if the wind took away some dust
off street
And I, gone, with bones and meat.

The delicate delusion in each moment
There is, the trick of life
imminent omnipresent agony in each living system
Human, or human not.
We are bound to break.
We are bound to suffer.
Till the truth taps his mask off
and we drop dead in dignity
Still blind, burning.
So what of it now?
Aye, dear life?
Our skeletons turned to dust
Our hearts no longer beating
What was this mascarade all about?

In the beginning, there was skin
fresh, soft, unblemished, unnamed
bound to be clad by blooming blue rose
baby bud bearing but thorns in its heart
Drifting along to kiss every inch
of that ****** beauty with grace
And there came the first scratch
Thirteen drops of blood
A drop of tear
And a full stop!
Congealed blood! Evaporated tear!
In the beginning there was no scar
but a tender rose to teach pain
pain with all its notoriety
and calamitious cloud of nothingness.
scars tiptoed towards the chest of skin
Now nourishing, naming each narrow path
No blood, no tear.
Thus, as a woman's womb gives birth
to hold up this tipsy life,
pain is a must.

This is where I stand.
Intrinsic beauty in each drop of tear
that splashes my eyes.
Pride in my unclad figure
like faith in a benign tumor
Behold the majesty of surrender
as I severe ties with a talking mind
that feeds on attention; evermore
Since I stand,free of giving.
Behold! I no longer am
the hands you can shake
or the lips you can kiss
My peers envy those tears
they cannot cry.

Tina RSH

Those elastic hands
having but coupled a river of tears
and wisps of yielding smoke
to begin with
a life
unknown and unblinking
like a pair of dead eyes
and play pretend
or pretend to play
for watery dreams
and smokey must-bes
and ought nots
somewhere in line with a broken smile
and a misty sense of senselessness
a spinal cord snapped
so did million daggers shoot out
from each vertebra
tears flooded out of her ears
and smoke forced the air
out of her lungs.
She turned away from the dread
so she could rest her head
on soft shoulders
and yet
none could bear ever the weight
of her sorrow.
Now both lungs dead
eyes closed
lying on her bed
she carries her weight with a finger
and carves out eyes on her forehead
she swallows light to linger
forever in her chest
as a heart
nobody would give her.