In the quantum realm of my reality
I designed a mathematically beautiful fantasy

An illusiory of science and dark alliances
A mystical act of a forgotten godlessness

I was deprived from my own health
I genusly fabricated my own death

But before i enter the hole
I have two wishes, in it you will take a role

A candle for me when i go
A requiem for my dreams and my soul


Words Of Harfouchism

Caffeine, oh won't you
awake me as you always do?
Even with effects circulating
and my mind over-contemplating,
I'll ask you to be my next move,
a mistake I won't need to soothe,
lungs taking deeper breaths,
bringing all distress to sudden death;
A bundle of rawness I inhale,
A bundle of vulnerability I exhale.

I could not tell you why
Or how
How many
Or when it starts
If it will end
But I can tell you one thing, dear friend
The aftermath is more detrimental than
Nuclear weapons at the hands of evil
Restrict, binge, repeat
The Devil himself spoon feeds my mind
Restrict, binge, repeat
Every time
Restrict, binge, repeat
It's a cycle that has swallowed me, too
I fear this will become my life
Or be there always
Haunting me to the grave
Restrict, binge, repeat

He lies flat on the rooftop
looking at the stars.

Useless worlds birthing and dying
he muses
the colossal magnificence of waste

if atrophy is the verdict
why create a complex web of universe
just because someone from an island
would stare at them
in awe of the beauty
seeking a key to the riddle
himself a grain of dust
lost in reading the firmament
and not grasping
of what significance
he is
within his shrinking space and time
in an expanding universe.

Zoom in. See your heart at its
Most spectacular through an
Electron microscope.

I've come to embrace our
Lack of foreverness, yet
Witness it through

Our faint touches hidden
Behind backs while passing.
No, there is nothing divine

Here. No shade of an angel's
Wing over our hearts as they
Stroke each other fleetingly,

Just two pieces of mud in a
World of dirt and
Water.

A broken man in a complete
Galaxy; I carry my pieces with  
My back straight.

This scarred heart is weak, but
My arms are well trained from
Taking its loads.

I'll carry yours when you need
Me to. Zoom out. See our joined
Hearts through a telescope.

Milky Way doorways.
The magical kissing of a neck
Across a threshold.

Breathe,

I have so many reasons to be alive.

Breathe,

But I get tired.

Breathe,

I don't think I scare myself anymore.

Breathe,
Just,
Breathe


quiet car rides,
On starry nights.
Warm seats,
Cool air,
Mildly,
Unwashed
Hair.

It's late,
And,
I'm tired.

But.
Im.
Still.
Alive.
And.
In.
My.
Own.
Time.
I,
Might even learn,
To enjoy it.

What do you do
when you realize
you're the aftermath
of someone's abuse?

It was written in the subtleties,
not the clear skin on your face.

You find it etched inside
of a voided smile.

The byproduct
of back handed remarks.

You stayed home
convinced yourself
you weren't really lonely.
But when you went out
you were made to feel the same.

Second guessing became
second nature.
Proving yourself worthy
became a personality trait.

It's not always clenched fist
or hit and run

It's a quick wit
and a razor tongue too.

The kind of love
that makes you
question the lengths
you've walked in life.

Makes you think
the only way is stay put
or go backwards.

The green eyed monster
turned you pale again
and you don't see
yourself in the mirror anymore.

Only someone who paints
her face with a smile
and tells everyone she's okay.

But the aftermath
is still just as deadly.
and your eyes feel sore
from trying to see
the good in things.

It's not always black eye
and a pain in your head.

If the flags read red-
then run.
No matter how far
you have made it.

I have taken
her shimmering body
and have made her
believe it's dull

this is,
my Christmas tree,
not matching a thing,
really,
ornaments,
from years ago,
to lights that don't all work,
you know,

this,
is,
our,
Christmas tree,
a little broken,
like our family,
presents underneath,
are less each year,
as ones i love,

disappear.


this is our Christmas tree,
a little dead,
but still pretty,

this is my Christmas tree,

and its,
a lot like,
me.

My daughter fell in love with a potato,
                        "A potato.......
My mind was confused and my face was a picture...
of why would someone ever love a potato?

I asked this myself in my head then out loud.
     My darling how have you a fondness for a potato?

He is the only one for me he is so soft and never
has a chip on his shoulder..

A chip? really, how did you meet my little lady.
He was just mulling around in a mash pit,
The music was the spud rock and he was my root.

I will have to meet you new boyfriend,
Dad, I love Barry, he even let me  wear his jacket
it was so fluffy inside...

Fathers out there would have the same look on
their face as I do now!!!!!
"OK,  as I was waiting impatiently to see this lad.

She walked in hand in hand, I just gave the daddy
look, hi Barry he stared in a starch looking gaze.
my daughter spoke "I'll just get my bag,

I spoke in my sternest voice,
"Barry if you don't treat my daughter right,
"Lets just say ill mash you up, understand....

And then they left not the gentlemen of before
no jacket to lend her, just walking out the door
like he had just been roasted by my words...

Hours had past worry in my thoughts then my
daughter came back, tears in her eyes.
"What ever was the matter my darling?

"He had steamed off because I wanted to know
why he never leant me his jacket,

"He said I was being a dumpling with him,

"So I told him you were right and that he had
a chip on his shoulder, he replied I was fried,

I told her that potato's can be a little mashed, and
a chip they will always have, because you cant change
a potato they will always have a little starch inside...