I was once lost in the ocean of uncertainty,
Filled with fears of abandonment—
Of visions without clarity;
On distorted dreams
I once swam in great delight,
Until I saw what true joy is,
painted in crimson and lovely white.

These colors lit up my corner,
Put me back in the proper track,
But as I go though near the ends
I was once again, lost in the dark.
I wander on it endlessly,
among the crazy twists and turns
But still, can’t go back straight ahead,
For my mind can’t handle it anymore.

I might seem to be fine
on every aspect you’ll look,
but have you tried reading the pages?
No—you just saw the cover of the book;
That’s why mysteries remain unsolved, unseen—
For no one will truly dare to read
these tainted lines and the meanings in between.

Thy glorious life I now possess,
is just nothing but a sort of mess—
and all those things I dreamed before,
are now nightmares sliding ashore.

It is human's nature, to adapt and change
but we weren't informed it would be out of our range—
for childhood is a fancy thing we've all enjoyed,
while adult things are far down this deceptive void.

How come we make children believe in fairytales
and not let them know about these nightmares and blues?
Life is not just about joyous songs of nightingales—
please give them facts and useful clues!

We are all nothing but earthlings trying to thrive,
and we are all nothing but people trying to survive—
We are all just lost adults on a lonely sea,
trying to make things work and make ourselves free;
on these unannounced and uninvited guests of adulthood, which decides if we'll be great or just up to no good—
but nonetheless, it's still marvelous to be here;
we never know the next and what's beyond there.

A breeze of cold air penetrate my core,
As I long for your warm tight hugs,
But then it's just me and my homies,
Talking deeply with our coffee mugs.

I wonder how would it feel to be by your side
and watch these glimmer of city light's horizon,
As our hearts discuss through synch heartbeats—
Listening to their silent screams of affection.

But then a cold breeze snap me out of the daydream—
bringing me back to our present state,
It's still a long run for both of us,
Imaginations are just the best things
I could create.

You never liked reading,
But still, I write things for you,
How I wish we could talk for hours
and share something we'd love to do.
But it's quite hard to get a good topic—
We're total opposites for real,
So here I am looking for answers
Did fate let us cross just for thrill?

But despite differences we have,
I'd love to sit still and do nothing with you—
Silence and your presence makes my days complete too.

Her name is a stain on my t-shirt
even the strongest bleach can't get rid of,
She's rooted deeply on the stitches—
Even chlorine won't be enough.

I know her color won't fade away—
you just don't want to wipe her out your path,
She's the ruins you've been protecting,
a spot of beauty and history's mark.

An here I am, a tourist interested in her story
but is neglected to have knowledge of her love,
Fears are now crawling up my system—
What if I'm the stain needed to get ridden of?

I woke up to a sight of dreadful memories,
Lingering around with joyful tones,
chasing my peace for some chaos—
Inflicting back the pain to the bones.

It was a "never thought of" situation,
as healing seems to be good enough,
But in the midst of some realizations—
"I might be still just blurting out bluffs"

I still woke up to a sight of horrid regrets,
concealed in muted yellow paint,
And I thought a hint of crimson blush
would hide it all—
But it still peek through with glorious taint.

I'm after the rumbling butterflies in my stomach,
Trying to hide away the troublesome pain,
And now I admit am a great liar—
Pretending to be really good, again.

As the coffee starts to take charge of my system,
My thoughts started to run as well.
I can't keep them off track for a minute—
They started screaming these unbearable hymns.

A bowl of what-ifs served as my snack for the midnight,
Swimming in liquid of yellow traumas and pain,
I can't even bear to look at them with my eyes naked,
But hunger forced me to eat those filthy dreadful grains.

Then, they start to sing horrible notes inside me—
Ruining my butterflies' soft ang lovely song;
Destroying the peace and order of these creatures—
inside are harmonies no one can even get along.

Tricky sentences flew after moonrise,
A battle commenced under moonlight,
Swings and beams chased eachother
Like fireflies dance around lovers

It was a sight to see unlike any other
I enjoyed the chase as if I were further,
To be honest I didn't realize it was such a fight
until I saw my hand disappear to reveal the moon.

Write me as a poem—
in verses of lovely rhymes,
enveloped with fancy words,
and metaphors divine.

I would love to rip hearts apart
and tell the story of a sacred connection—
but after such great feelings of butterflies,
these two, lost communication.

Write me as a poem,
And I’ll write you as one too,
For in this world of chaos and hatred,
We’ve crossed our paths and found the calm—
the home where our love grew.

You’re the loveliest sunset I’ve watched—
My bittersweet goodbye,
Taking a piece of my mended heart,
To a place cannot be seen by my eye.

Write me as a poem—
I want to be a timeless art,
And I'll write you as a song
Forever stuck in my recovering heart.

04•15•21
7:36 PM

— Crissy Morsel