You are too stingy with yourself my dear,
let me have a slice,at least two slices of you.
Let me savour you, allow me to salivate into your wholeness. Let me drool and lust into your experiences.
Your joys let me have a sip, your sorrows let me have a bit.
Your care freeness, entrust it into my strong hands.
Let me know what clogs you, chokes you and simmers you. Let me ride in your strength, and measure the depth of your sorrow.
Let me light the darkened soul candle and quiten your heart thunders,
Just let me in,
into your soul,
So that I can see the world through your eyes,
Taste the waters with your tongue, and know how roses smell to you.
Let me know how pain feels to your, and probably I will know why I misunderstand you

We love to change clothes,
we love shoes for running, hicking and strutting on the catwalk.
We love to smell sweet, ****, confident and **** plane mad.
We love costumes to look like angels or monsters.
We are a slave to change,
we complain when wear same for so long.
We seek out illicits, to get the variety.

Anothers mind and soul, is what we seek. But the self loath.
We give testimonies, of how I was and know how I am.
We change hairstyles, upgrade our accents.
We long to experience others, in yourself.

This mire and bog, has seen great minds simplified.
Seen whelps turn to fierce dogs,
Has seen urchins turn to masters.
Has seen those who bow, being bowed to.

In our quest for difference, we take alters and influencers.
We stimulate and live our imagination,
Till we become trapped and eventually lose ourselves.

Though we flirt, with drugs, alcohol, religion and mantras
let our aliases not take over us.

A breath, a sign, a hi
A bellow, a sniff, a sigh
A kick, a scuffle, one dies
A plot, a dark shadow overlies.

A song, a dance , a slide.
A whistle and a birds chides
A purr, and the cats meow subsides
A crow, and majestic **** strides.

A flatter and a feeble heart dies
A shot and the fatherless cries
A crave and all warmth dries
A hurt and all fears arise.

Words are signs of life, they form images evoke emotions and like rain make foliage to rise, or an oasis to dry,
They make an outstretched hand to give, or slap.
N just like the ratio of production is higher frm a well-tended piece of land than frm one thats not properly tended,so is the case with words

Words make , they break, they gather they rake,  they scatter they fake. Word cause and heal wounds, they make hands feeble and also strong.

Words are like clay in the hands of the potter, a braid of hair in the hands of the salonist, a masterpiece can produce, or a disaster in waiting, words are windows to sections of the soul, areas that you wish to guide others to, areas you feel of but have never been. Like a compass in a clueless sea. Like a GPS in space. They make us find our path back home, or make us lost for eons,
they describe pain, our unnatural thirst, our demons and fairly tales. Words they...

Silence is a scream,
its not absence of sound,
its a novel ,
a chase,
an encyclopedia
a whole dictionary.
Its a landmine infested field,
a slaughter house for dreams and ambitions

moments are like the lunar eclipse, a frozen aspect of time, that comes once in eighty years.
We should cerebrate in the rareness of the golden moments.
Its Gods message, we have no control of tomorrow, ours is today.

Like rain it makes them grow, just simple feelings to torrents.
Like a small breeze, brushing on the surface, they change the calm emotional ocean into a death trap for the poor thinker.
Like a match stick, lit to a can of perfume, the stink of ******  smell raises as it brought to a thunderous explosion.
The ravernous bear, calmed, the harmless cat made a killer, all by simple them

They can't be touched, no evidence seen, only aftermath, a horrid trail of destruction,
Of mountains trampled, of volcanoes quenched, of seas dried, and of desers made gardens,
all due to syllables joined together, words