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18.8k · Nov 2015
True Insanity
Someone take my mind away from me,

                                    its driving me INSANE.
2.0k · Mar 2018
people leave
people live
and, often,
these two
can depend
on each other
1.8k · Apr 2017
Being Kind
People say I don't have a heart
Because movies don't make cry
But just you show me
People being kind
And it will tear me apart.
1.3k · Nov 2017
What you shoulda done
I miss you
but I’ll never tell
not because of them,
because of you
because I don’t want
to know
‘cause even though
it was unfair
it was still your fault
because you
shoulda known
shoulda done better
shoulda hang on.

I miss you
but you’ll never know
‘cause I’ll only say it
this one time
never again.

Because you shoulda
been here
even if you were far
you shoulda stayed
and faced the tides.
1.2k · Oct 2016
What We Deserve
We deserve the world we live in.
We've worked too hard to destroy it
To stop now.
We deserve the wars being fought.
We've built too high our borders
To tear them down now.
We deserve injustice and discrimination.
We've made too much an effort to build social barriers
To get rid of them now.
We deserve bad governments.
We've enabled them too much and given them too much freedom
To start complaining now.
We deserve all types of pollution.
We've taken nature for granted for too long
To take care of her now.
We deserve illnesses.
We've lived on excess for too long
To start worrying now.
We deserve the reality we live in.
We've been moulding it for generations
To break free from it now.
We deserve what we have.
We've put all our energy on it.
But who's to say we don't deserve
The chance to change as well
The opportunity to wake up
The drive to find unity
The knowledge to see the errors in our ways
Who's to say we don't deserve.
The chance to live.
1.2k · Mar 2016
Noise Pollution
Sometimes, the noise in my head
                                    is so LOUD
that it feels the only way to
                                    shut it OFF
is with the sound of a gunshot.
We're too distracted
fighting for uniqueness
that we have forgotten
to fight together as one
909 · Oct 2015
I, sometimes, crave for something
To call my own.
I, sometimes, crave for someone
To call me their own.
But what I crave for the most
Is for someone to call myself.
904 · Apr 2017
I see them in the dark
I have been having
about your eyes
maybe ...      
it is because I'll
see them again.
829 · Jul 2017
Sometimes all I wanna do is
be sad
It's all I write about
It's all that I am.
Sometimes all I wanna be is
It becomes my mood
It becomes my truth
Sometimes sadness washes over me
And I let her
Like welcoming an old friend
Knowing they will soon leave
Sometimes all I am is
It drowns me in sorrow
It drowns me without color
But it's okay, they're a part of me
There's no denying it
But now they don't linger
They just come to greet me
To know about my life
And then they say goodbye
Sometimes all I wanna be is sad
And I'm alright
I'll never forget the feeling of your tongue,
       like acid
               peeling off my skin.
And their voices rose in unison,
the same tempo, the same rhythm,
their hearts beating as one.
And their songs resounded
in every corner of every street
and the sound could break walls.
And their footsteps echoed
and they had the earth quaking
at their mercy under their feet.
And they made us all believe,
and we sung all their songs
and our hearts became in synch.
And for a moment all was well,
and victory was floating in the air,
and they held their hands over their heads.
It was when the wind changed
and the sun turned to blood red
and joy turned into panic and fear.
And they ran and fought and charged,
and their songs turned to screams
and their footsteps to falling bodies.
And we all watched it from a distance
with closed blinds and windows shut,
without turning to assist them at all.
And silence fell, and it was deafening,
there was no sound, no air, no life
and they were all sinking to the ground.
And the rest of us would later say
nothing can be done to make a change
and we would all turn our eyes away.
And the elder will proclaim again
that Revolutions are all made from air
and return to their card games.
And the thing we never understood
is that it shouldn't have been theirs
but it should have been ours.
For the world is our own, all of us,
and it should be our voices in unison
and our hearts together as one.
And the Spirit of the Revolution would live
if we could all, together, just stand still
and reach out to our brothers and sisters.
And make a change without death,
and paint the world different than red
and build a future as one, side by side.
But we sit still, raging at the T.V.
cursing at every injustice that we see
hoping the next generation will get to live.
792 · Nov 2015
It feels,
most if the time,
as if I
will apologize
for what goes
my mind,
or just
for being who
I am...

... Whoever that is.
744 · Oct 2015
It is the weakness of the flesh,
the sweetness of the sweat
on your skin
what will be the end of me.
Because no matter how strong
I am,
you make a quitter of me,
I quit my values and my mind.
And it is all worth it, for you,
for the taste of your body, of
your skin,
for the slickness of your lips.
Its the sensuality of your eyes
that ignites me entirely from
the inside,
its even hotter than lava.
You set my hands on fire
and I can't wait to see the red hot
scorch marks
that I will leave all over your body.
It's your tongue making its way
from my lips, to my shoulders and
to my ear,
that makes me fall on my knees.
And it is with your every breath
that my entire world goes away,
its shattered,
the pieces lie under your fingernails.
I'm left overexposed and alone
lying in bed naked dressed only
with regret,
because of this I have to remain silent.
You are fire and I am gunpowder,
you make me explode every time
you touch me,
and I know this is all wrong.
You will take me everywhere
from pleasure to agony,
from glory to ruin,
but I know we will meet again.
710 · Nov 2015
Have I ever told you about infinity?
I had never seen such a thing, not once
not even a glimpse or a reflection,
or a shadow. Not even a ghost.
Until one summer day, while on the bus
I finally saw it,  infinity that is;
I saw it in the colour and the light
of a pair of sun-filled brown eyes.
I saw it in the way those dark pupils,
contracted whenever light was upon.
I saw it in the way the irises moved,
seemingly changing colour and shape.
It reminded me of breathing, inhaling and
exhaling, and the light was the oxygen, and
the irises the diaphragm, moving in order
to let in as much vital energy as possible.
As I moved closer to those round infinities
I felt, the vital energy they absorbed was mine,
it was in the way a galaxy was being born
from the clash of invisible light and brown.
An endless number of swirls and turns,
an unimaginable number of movements,
the unexplainable intensification of colour,
it was the perfect symmetry of breathing
But it still was something incomprehensible,
something that still seemed like a theory.
Infinity was so close but it was still too meek,
that was until, without warning, infinity saw me.
688 · Oct 2015
Fell to Pieces
And I looked at her then,
So many years after

I saw her

Smile for the first time
And long after
I swore to her endless
Days of pure love

Ghostlike I felt then
Observing her figure,
Or maybe it was a shadow.
Defeated I walked to her,
Breathing heavily,
Yearning for the past,
Even then I loved her so,
First try at acrostic poems
We all have a little sadness that we have to live with
            And that's not a bad thing
681 · Oct 2015
003 (15 words)
Recently discovered a world of reason,
I am lost.
                  It's a world I can't understand.
642 · Jan 2016
Alcohol Chronicles Pt. I
Give me enough alcohol and I'll become either
      a Poet or a Cynic.
           Maybe even both at times, although that never
                  ends up right.
                        A worded bitter will make you loathe the world
                                without your consent.
I remember those final moments
as I watched her pack her bags,
emptying drawers and closets
whispering through the halls
her words lost in the corners.
And I walked up to her, slowly,
as one would approach a ghost.
But she moved away from my hand
and tears were in her eyes. I stood,
like a statue, blank, unmoving.
She asked me the point of dating a poet,
if poems about her never were made.
Words failed me then, standing at the door,
words more beautiful than her weren't real,
and neither was I a poet nor a lover by myself.
Oh, the irony! Even with her crying eyes,
in her goodbye, so much poetry was told!
I wanted to tell her the magic in her being,
and how I longed for her happiness.
I thought about telling her, that next to her
moon, stars and sun were just street lamps
That in her sadness lived contradiction
and that the tears made her eyes shine,
and my fingertips desperately yearned her.
I understand now, that she never saw
how I formed constellations with her kiss
and within her breath was my existence,
that with her, my soul grew wise and old.
I guess there were never stars in her eyes,
or melodies in her laughter that she recognized.
She never noticed me looking at her from afar
or when, without me talking, she heard me.
Maybe she never loved me in my anger.
But seeing her there, so ready to leave,
my universe compressed and expanded,
and with a kiss I wrote the poetry she wanted
and to her lips, as a goodbye, I whispered:
*Never say I didn't write you anything
620 · May 2016
Darkness, old friend
I am attracted to all things
that have some darkness to them
to the mysteries they hold
-real or imaginary-.
I'm not sure of the reason why
maybe because I have some
latent darkness in me or maybe
I want to know if I'm
614 · Oct 2015
And I miss you
I could have drawn constellations
with the dots on your skin,
but you made me write a goodbye
letter instead.
611 · Mar 2018
003 (10 words)
I love
your skin
my skin

602 · Nov 2015
005 (15 words)
I envy the dead sometimes,
   they needn't worry about honesty.
            They have seen everyone's souls.
601 · Apr 2017
What I am
I am
I am
the product of my surroundings
I am
the result of my parents
The influence of my friends,
I am
All that, is what I am
What formed me
What brought me here
Their mistakes run in
my veins
Yet, I refuse
to be defined by them
All of that
I am
But I will
define myself
582 · Jan 2016
The ocean is calling,
calling for me,
he wants me to
get lost in him.
To join the white foam,
to go and say hello.
Nothing's here to stop me,
only the cold dry wind
of some cold and silent place
that lures me into the dark,
to some colourless scene,
to some lifeless landscape.
I try to run, to call out,
"I'm coming! Wait!"
But all I see is them leaving,
without me, leaving me here
on a wasted island,
by myself.
So I stay here,
without anyone,
waiting in the nothingness,
waiting nothing,
only the silence interrupts
all these thoughts in my mind.
These void and empty thoughts,
rough, cold and dry,
as the day on this island,
dark, wet and cold,
like all the nights here,
enlightened only by a dim hope.
That someday, someone
will come along
to take me back to the world
and end this loneliness,
erasing the memory of my time
alone here on the island of my mind.
This one has an accompanying drawing... its not too good though
581 · Oct 2015
My Soul
We are not body,
We are not mind
Nor heart.
We are thoughts,
We are feelings
And ideas.
We laugh and cry,
We love....
And we hate.
We are our souls,
Its whims
We must follow.
This is my soul,
It's wishes
And I obey.
So, after a mild break down I am back, reuploading and writing again. As my soul has always wanted to.
577 · Apr 2016
Question No. 3
What is the
                     of a
                            ­     drowning
                                             in silence?
569 · Jun 2018
004 (10 words)
I fear that

I will
             d  i  s  a  p  p  e  a  r
566 · Oct 2015
Death by any other name
I looked into my father's eyes
and they were frantic, panic-stricken,
pupils blown and all.
I looked down to my father's hands
and they were trembling, unsteady,
they reminded me of home.
I focused on my father's breathing
it was erratic, irregular,
it probably reminded him of his life.
I remember him wheezing out
"I think I'm dying, this is it."
trembling hands pressed against his chest.
And I kneeled down in front of him
my knees steady and unshakable,
and I hoped he was jealous.
I remember I looked at him and said
"No, father, this isn't your death
it's simply consciousness"
I can still taste the sick satisfaction,
the sly grin as I reckoned,
that those were probably the same for him.
564 · Nov 2015
006 (15 words) (Ask him)
Ask him to write you poems
           and books,
For I have run out of words.
556 · Nov 2016
007 (15 words)
Don't worry about the distance
   I will find new ways to make love
                                    To you
556 · Jan 2016
The Earth is filled with fantastic secrets
        just waiting to be unveiled
Filled with places to see and to live
        filled with hidden magic
just waiting until it is discovered
        and here I am wasting it
throwing life away in a grey cubicle
         missing out on tastes
never being able to see the colours.
So when I die, please, when you bury me
            bury me all in white
and set my ashes free, somewhere far
            in the middle of the night
So I will  be reborn within their flight.
551 · Dec 2015
Monsters dream
that unicorns get together with vampires,
while they dance and drink
under the moonlight.
The Gods see them and envy them
The Undergods see them and they laugh.
While they dance and drink
they die
under the moonlight, during the night,
they have fun at the speed of light.
Once they start
they don't stop.
Once they get tired
they drink blood.
Angels dream
that Heaven and Earth are one,
united under one flag.
They dream dreams,
they dream peace.
God hears them and hopes
The Devil hears them and he laughs
his *** off.
A father dreams as he works,
he dreams of better days.
A mother dreams as she cooks,
she dreams of silent nights.
A grandfather dreams as he smokes,
he dreams of a peaceful life.
A child dreams as he sleeps,
he's filled with hope as he plays.
A child's laughter is a dream,
a child sleeping is like peace.
A child's kiss is all that we need
to believe that those monsters
that dream of unicorns and vampires
are real.
531 · Oct 2015
What is Love
What is Love if not the
agonizing hallucination
of helpless fools who
don't even know they're
     . . . . . . .
What is Love if not the
sweet denial that your
heart is being ripped out
from your body in a way
you don't even feel the
     . . . . . . .
What is Love if not fire heated
swords slowly going inside
burning you up as they cut
through your flesh and bones
     . . . . . . .
What is Love if not well hidden
pain coated with flowers that
distracts the mind from the
insanity of what's become of the
     . . . . . . .
What is Love if not delicious,
beautifully well camouflaged
death hiding behind a perfect
smile and sweet words for deaf
     . . . . . . .
What is Love if not astounding,
hypnotizing,  breathtaking and
perfect misleading beauty that
is everything that helped build
508 · Aug 2018
true to yourself
whatever you do
for yourself
shouldn't disappoint others

if it does
they weren't meant for you

you deserve someone
who'll be there with you
while you aim for the stars

even if they like
to keep their own feet
on the ground
Art you made
Art you shall become
That's the lesson I've learnt.
We're not made of stardust
Or particles
Or a billion atoms running
Up and down our system
Art is what we're made of.
Art is what we aspire to do.
Art is what we inhale
and exhale.
Art is everywhere.
Art you made
Art you shall become
Art is what you
Dedicate your existence to
What you are devouted to
What your life resumes in
Art is what you made
Art you shall become
Artist don't burn
They don't turn into ashes
They don't return to the earth
Artists return to what
They're made of
They turn into their own
Version of stardust
From art you were made
And art you shall become
Art you made
In Memoriam
481 · Apr 2017
After The Calm
She was there,
with me,
and all was well
Because it is easier to be
after the storm
when it's passed
But after the calm
when the storm arrives
it turns real
479 · Jan 2016
Empty pages
All these books to read

and all these songs to sing

but all I can think about

are these empty pages

and how my hand would look better

with a glass of whiskey.
458 · Oct 2016
The Colour Blue
It is always there
           I can feel it all the time
              Like a permanent aftertaste
               Lying there in my taste buds
            A pinch of something like salt
         Adding flavour to all my reds
      Like a breath of ice cold air
454 · Oct 2015
There Are Things
There are some things that are not meant to be seen
Some things that were made to remain hidden
To remain in the darkness, covered, unsaid
Some things that I keep hidden even from myself
Things that, were they to appear,
Could break me
There are good times, when I forget
Times when I convince myself those things are not there
That I read them in a poem, or a book, or a song
Good times when all of that seems foreign and distant
Those are the days I have the strength to breathe, to laugh,
To live.
But there are days when those are the only things I see
The only things I hear, the only things that reign in me
Those are the days when I forget  how light looks like
When I forget what the beating of my heart sounds like
And all I hear are the voices inside me,
And I silently scream.
And there are days when there’s a strange peace
An odd balance, a numbness, a greyness spreading inside me
Days when everything is muffled and blurry and barely there
Those are my favourite days, the days when I’m barely there
The days when I don’t need to remember to breathe,
To not die.
436 · Jun 2017
Glasgow Scale
I am a -9 Glasgow Scale,
even in life,
I should be intubated,
someone should breathe for me
Someone should
live for me
This life is not mine
It is just breathing
and waking up
and breathing
and waking up
... and breathing
... and waking up

      T w o
               T H r e e
                           F O U r
                                  F I V E
times in one day
Let someone else live this life!
Let someone else die this daily death!
I cannot do this anymore
I need other means to breathe
430 · Mar 2016
I Wasn't There
I woke up one day, in an empty bed,
even though your body laid next to mine
and I couldn't move, I tried telling myself
that I was still under sleep's spell.
I closed my eyes, shut them tight,
asking the skies for another try
to have the strength to keep my head straight.
But time stops for no one, it carries on,
and with your laboured awakening
my world, a fractioned world became
and from my heart, a vital piece fell.
You opened your eyes without seeing
and my body grazed without feeling,
and in a bottomless pit my soul fell.
With your eyes closed you sighed,
and inhaled a different air than mine.
And with your eyes, from mine,
you couldn't your reflection find.
Without thinking you raised from bed
and I laid there, abandoned, behind,
without a pulse that said I was alive.
With a heavy step I followed in your footsteps,
imitating a shadow, looking, longing,
without understanding the spontaneous rejection
suffering from the coldest involuntary exile.
I followed your footprints throughout the day,
watching you from afar, your posture so hard,
there wasn't a smile, a laugh in sight.
I couldn't understand the reason why
your gaze was so blank, distant, empty eyes.
Or why was your smile missing, you were so sad.
I walked with you all day, near and far,
but the blankness from your eyes stuck,
you ate without taste, without being satisfied
and drank without thirst, not knowing why.
I noticed the hunch in your perfect posture,
the lack of rhythm in your walk,
there wasn't music that could cheer you up.
I figured I wasn't the only shadow in your back,
that your heavy walk was a result of that.
I wished I had the power to free your heart,
even when my presence you decided to disregard.
Watching you, the world seemed slow,
the air was thick and the oxygen suffocating.
It never occurred to me that I could leave.
You closed the entrance door behind you
and slid down with your back pressed against it,
when you hit the floor and sat down, you cried
but when I tried to come close you dodged my touch.
I couldn't understand what was going on,
my soul screamed of desperation, of frustration,
I was all but begging for an explanation.
After a while your tears dried, you finally stood up
with your back still using the door as support
in order to give your still trembling, weak, legs
the time they needed to regain strength.
You took your time to fix your countenance
and looking at yourself in the mirror, you breathed,
I didn't make another attempt at approaching you.
At night, when it was time to finally return to bed,
it was my sweatshirt that you wore for that task,
I saw one final, lone tear sliding down your tired cheek
before you allowed yourself to surrender to sleep.
Walking through the hall I looked at the mirror,
and it wasn't until I couldn't find my reflection there
that I remembered I wasn't there any more
I couldn't keep you safe.
420 · Mar 2016
The Moment of Your Lives
Peace and dirt,
break that fight,
get together out in the wild.
Have a drink, get up and dance,
laugh together while you can.
Love with all your heart.
Watch your friends,
enjoy life.
Sing a song,
play guitar,
join in the game of Life.
Be aware of your smiles.
Take a chance.
Scream your lungs out.
Use the things around you,
take your time,
but make it last.
Keep these memories all your life.
Cook something,
eat it all,
enjoy the taste while you're still here.
Star a fire on the beach,
go camping out in the cold breeze,
enjoy the summer all your life.
Sing songs,
play games,
laugh with all your friends.
Take love,
but give love as well.
Enjoy it,
it is the moment,
the moment of your lives.
389 · Nov 2015
004 (15 words)
I have grown thin,
      I have grown old,
                   I have grown out of love.
388 · Dec 2015
I am very curious about what is love
And life, I say
For I have seen such things and
Such eyes
That show nothing of them.
I am intrigued of what the meaning is
Of happy
For I have lived such lives but only
In quantity
And I have no recollection of it.
I often wonder about eternity, infinity,
About forever
For I have been threatened with them
From everywhere
And I have come to fear them the most.
368 · Mar 2016
Body Language
I love the way
your breath tastes,
and how it
feeds me life.
I love the way
your hands talk,
and the things
they say to me.
I love the way
your eyes smile,
and how they
always match mine.
I love the way
your legs shake,
and how strong
they always are.
I love the way
your chest listens,
and sets the pace
for my own heart.
I love the way
you move your toes,
whenever you feel
you're so close.
I love the way
you hair falls,
and it hides your
face from the world.
I love the way
your back moves,
and how it feels
so warm and strong.
I love the way
your neck beats,
and how it
helps me exist.
I love the way
your mouth stutters,
when air and words
fight to come out.
I love the way
your body combusts,
because mine does
the same for yours.
367 · Oct 2015
Question No. 2
What's more tragically beautiful?
Falling in love,
         Falling out of it?
363 · Mar 2016
The Hardest Part
The hardest part isn’t waking up
The hardest part is getting up
When you barely slept at all and your mind races
The difficult part is opening your eyes
When there are demons eating away your mind
When your heart is racing and your hands are shaking
The painful part is when the ache is too real
When its not just your mind shattering,
But your body breaking too
When you wheeze for air and clutch at your chest
When your hands are shaking and there’s not enough air
When the nightmares close up around you
But the most tiring part, the most exhausting part
Is trying to hide it all cause you’re supposed to be happy
Cause you’re not supposed to fall.
351 · Oct 2015
Question No. 1
What's so wrong
     about needing a little
      to exist?
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