You shoot me down
And I will fall
Because I am not
Titanium.

Neither am I steel, Metal or strong at all.
I am made of flesh and blood,
And you will bring me down.

Not only according to the science of life,
But also because you make me
The happiest person I can be.

And when the happiest person
Doesn't have her happy,
She isn't that bright sunshine.
She's sad, melancholy and depressed.

You may not define me,
But you are what I need
And I want you,
I need you,
I miss you,
I love you.

Your words will hurt me,
Shoot me
And cut through my delicate skin.

I'm not going to pretend,
That you will never affect me-
You always will
Because I am in love with you.

You have left me,
Because I am not good enough.
But I promise you now,
I will be.

Yet you still hurt me,
Taunt me,
And bring me down.

Yes, I am breakable.

And you have, indeed, broken me.

I watched you out in the open
Staring at nothing
Mouth sewn shut
Eyes glazing at the world.

Your beautiful face
For once is not comical,
When I so badly want it to be.

The roots are climbing up your body,
Keeping you firm on the ground.
Now you can't run to me,
Hug me, Kiss me
Or tell me you love me.

Tears run down my eyes
As my feet carry me towards you.
I run my hands along your body,
Feeling only fabric,
No sign of life in you.

If you knew I was there
You showed no emotion of it.
I bite my lip as I watch you,
Watch you ignore me,
Like I wasn't crying for you.

I wrap my arms around your stiff body,
Feeling my heart race,
But yours still.

Do you not love me any more?
Do you not feel the same?
Please talk to me,
I miss you so much.

I'm sorry for erupting into an angry mess,
I'm sorry for taking it out on you.
I'm sorry if I was not good enough,
But I promise you I will.
Please don't give up on me,
I still love you.

Time ticks by,
But your eyes are still black buttons,
And your mouth is still stitches,
Your body is still sewn fabric,
And your voice is still silent.

I cannot bear the truth,
It hurts for it to sink in.
I don't want it to be true-
Please, tell me it isn't.

But as the seconds go by,
And you don't respond,
I realize that I cannot do anything about it.
It must be true.

You've turned Scarecrow on me.

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

Show, don't tell.

Show:

Suddenly he found himself smiling more, and occasionally he even laughed. His sarcasm withered away and instead, what took root was an incredible earnestness to explain his thoughts and feelings to other people and even listen- no matter how stupid he thought them previously. Eventually he figured that this odd happiness couldn't be just a coincidence: it was sustained by the way she dotted her i's with little hearts whenever she wrote his name.

Tell:

He was in love.

I'm scared of my imagination.

I hear, see and feel things I shouldn't.
It scares me.

You hear barking, I hear howling.
You hear chair scraping the ground, I hear screaming.
You hear snoring, I hear wailing.
You hear in between radio stations, I hear cackling.
You hear sliding, I hear snakes.
You hear buzzing, I hear a bomb ticking.
You hear church bells, I hear the call for death.
You hear chopping food, I hear execution.
You hear the waves, I hear the drowning of the unknown.

I can't stay in the dark,
It's what I imagine I fear for.
My heart runs for it's life,
But it's stuck in the same cage.
And it's walls are scraped,
With tally of the times it will never get out.

You hear a tap, I hear drowning.
And I am flowing with it. In it.

Shake my head away from the dreams?
It's not as easy as you think.
When they taunt you,
While you sleep,
You dream,
You eat,
Scream.
I do.

It's just a nightmare...
- No it's not.
It's real;
It's my imagination.

Telling me things it shouldn't,
Making me feel things I shouldn't.

The imagery is too much, I cannot see;
Blind.

The wails, howls and screams are getting louder;
Deaf.

I’ve run out of voice,
To speak, to express, to call for help;
Dumb.

They say your imagination cannot hurt you,
Yet I’m screaming, running away from it.
But I can't – it's stuck with me, 'till I die.
Die from the fear of myself?
I will.