Sometimes I have to cry.
Not because I'm sad.
Not because I'm happy.
But because I live in a shaded grey.
Always in between and never touching the end of each extent.
And when I think of you,
I cry.
Maybe I cry because I'm not with you at the time.
Maybe I cry because I miss you.
Maybe I cry tears of relief,
Thanking this universe for giving me love like this.
Because I've been neglected.
And torn apart like paper.
Maybe I cry in fear of losing you.
Maybe I cry in fear of having you.
Maybe I cry to relieve my anxiety.
My anxiety from an unknown cause.
I never know why I cry.
Maybe I never will.
But maybe,
Sometimes I have to cry.
Just because my twisted mind enjoys the feeling of these sheer tears that are filled with so many emotions as they're strolling down my face.
These mixed, jumbled emotions I can't sort out.
Some people say that black and white is all they know,
But I never knew black and I've never known white.
But grey...
Grey has walked beside me for years
Letting me taste each extreme,
As if that ever benefitted me.
And I,
I always stay in this area of grey.
It's the only place comfortable for me -
Someone who has felt both sides of two opposite ends.
Cause if it would let me leave, it knows I'd remain here.
Not because I'm sad.
Not because I'm happy.
But because it understands
That sometimes I have to cry.
And I'll never have to give a reason,
Because I live in a foreign place of unmade up minds and mistakes.
This place I like to call grey.
Which has gave me a home to store my imperfections.

Hot cocoa,
so saccharine,
so sweet,
Warm me through the bitterest winter,
the iciest claw of the wind

Hot cocoa,
melting on tasteless tongues
warming my tiny, gelid hands
You trickle and run down numb throats
leaving milky, brown streaks
on colorless lips

Hot cocoa,
rolling and tumbling in nippy stomaches
as my belly rumbles and thunders for more

I don't know how to tell you to be gentle
My skin might dissolve under your touch like the way
Your eyes melt my
Insides
And my knees might crumple
When I see your smile
And I'll curl up into the
Curve of your dimples
When you breathe your name
Into my trembling lips
And I'm fragile
So I need you to be
gentle

I came across some paper,
It was crumpled, torn and frayed,
Stained with ink and tears,
A tormented artist played,

Their heavy heart and troubled mind,
Had written words so true,
A hidden path into their world,
A reason for their blues,

Inspired by your written words,
I penned one of my own,
To tell you not to worry,
That you will never be alone,

My heavy heart lifted
With the words I wrote,
Flowing without effort,
Upon this tear stained note,

I put this note into the bin,
As I decided to walk away,
To hide the emotion of my soul,
Of where this artist played.

there were cracks
of lightening
that fell from the sky
like chains
of stars
held together
by electricity

searing the earth
rain beating across
pale skin
dark skin
no skin
the minds
under colour
cursing
one another

we have choice
and there is still
no freedom
from the oppression
we have been forced
to create