Not quite right, not quite ticking;
the device in the head: broken and brutal.
It tells lies and lacks serotonin.
No one can tell: it hides inside the skull.

An alien in the body and a stranger in the brain -
everything is unknown, merely the soul belongs.
The soul screams sorrow yet too serene to be seen;
it will not be seen until it breaks down.

A strong wind blows: it slows you down,
the snow falls: it annoys,
the sun shines: the blood rises.
The cruel cruelty: the brain!

It orders, the tongue surrenders;
it decides, the body submits.
It dictates! It dictates! It dictates!
The human body is just a puff.

As if a flock of sheep is running inside of me;
they simultaneously sing a song to me - baa.
They will hit my nerves and break my patience,
so the only thing I will do is yell.

As if a lion tries to break out of me;
its silent roars once will become loud.
It will take my power of choice,
so I begin to prepare.

As if a snake whispers in my ear;
it tells me to succumb.
It will persuade me,
so I will comply.

As if a hedgehog is poking me,
as if a poisonous spider sits next to me;
Nevertheless, the chameleon inside of me
will hold the trophy of the conventional lifestyle.

You hugged every inch of my mouth
in such a pleasant manner that I could forgive:
forgive the unforgivable.

You boosted my thinker in a way
that no one has ever done. I may forgive
my mind for the weakness.

You were with me through all -
the bad and good. You were the one
that I loved with my love.

Sometimes there is the serenity
of a deserted desert.
Sometimes there is the cacophony
of an overcrowded city.
But sometimes there is the right amount
of bells and smells; and the other levels
of sense.

Dim and bright is what I exhale:
Dim when in wild and bright
When in peace.

Glowing like a phosphorus;
And as dark as covered in ink,
I walk the life as a recluse lord.

I won’t bloom, for that I know;
I will wither, that I know;
But I will wither as a winner.

I will be blameworthy,
But I will continue to be worthy -
Even when the light goes off.

Alone
By Tina Tickery

The twinkle in her eyes
would go right in the heart of a tender soul.

She wished there were more Twinkles
so she could be the soul of the other Twinkles.

She wished there were more Tender Souls
so she could share her glistening eyes.

A holder of innocence
is the one with a twinkle in the eye.

A holder of tenderness
is the one with a sensitive side.

Both holders are remarkable,
but too rare for her to meet.