seeping through brown-riddled veins flowing a gently fervent stream from my wrist, a perfect red dreams of an escape from all of this turmoil and stress can be attained through a single temptation from the acquired gaze of a small blade
kitchen counter riddled in grey marble a fragrance of burning wood and candy solar blessings filtered into linear lines fruits spread in an ikebana rainbow a jar of sickly saccharine sugar atop a syrupy taste lingers in that air
i long to breathe it in once more that sweet air of my grandma's house from all these 11,285 kilometres away from home and ten years from those first moments of life
frozen still in silver secretion forever perceived in a million concepts; a story engrained, and it goes...
art is interpretive and doesnt have a concrete purpose it is up to the viewer to interpret the story behind all things regardless of the artists intent
two faces, two egos to my face you tell me everything is fine for every flaw i perform, for every mistake and yet, you spit venom behind my back on my name
mind is pacing hands are full calendar ticking away towards bound due dates sweat in sleep that no tablefan can fix thoughts of exams and fears reoccuring torment of embarrasing moments that i want to keep away
purity stained blood red the children mask the brutal scene through thin hope the ruin that follows with every rippling explosion
it's funny to imagine, with just a lone missile of hate from the hands of the mighty and cruel your life can end without reason and in vain they will deem your life
interwoven bodies everywhere frightening weights of "love" they almost make me gag, this fake admiration for another and yet, i find myself wishing for that same close company all despite my irks
automatic administering of dense stereotypes - the world is balanced off of the practice of false sayings ostracizing disrespect and yet, you deem yourself a good person
seething rage through metal bars teeth bared like razor sharp knifes an inferno builds up inside me, a heat red under my own skin - as you still and watch mouths open in folly; a circus lion to an audience
coursing my veins still blades pursue thin threads of peace that keep me together with weak tendrils of coping habits that have barely managed to wrap themselves around my flesh and mind
poisoned youth rest along the grey heralding you their saviour their freedom, their salvation and yet you stride by as the missiles fall and bombard the land, their black, green, red, and white haven, now with tainted blood and sickness
i am forever a balance of weakness and soft skin with scales forever still as a statue, carrying the burdens of heavy insecurities that i can never comprehend and understand
accumulation of outer thoughts build the mind of a fragile husk quietly, they have been shaped to what they are now; the effects of a mindless egregore called influence
light-bound revered idol in the sky preaches velvet soft respect for all and yet, it seems all too wrong considering all believe opposite but then call themselves 'saved'
they say i am a presumed light of my family, the potential that seeps through the endless night and the luminescence that persists through the dark and yet, harboring all these emotions and deep feelings i am but a shadow playing fool with myself and others
up in a chokehold by lifes cold hands color draining slowly from my eyes everything now in black and white i've been alone for so long now, in this solitary coffin of mine
i've stepped foot on this land only 4 years ago and ever since then, have i never not longed to go back and yet, i wonder if my home would accept me for the way i act just like the way the others have in this hellscape
i live in my own mirage of countless bees and their honey-touched compliments, the delicate petals they bear—the only solace i'll find in this sad dulled hive of a recluse