We're so many yet so alone,
We live in a prison and call it a home..


Only if I could die, I could be well,
Since over 7 billion people on this planet,
And not even a single has time for me,
What The hell...

whenever I cry, I just have a blanket,
My friends - they're so busy,
I feel like John Cena -
Saying you can't see me..

Somebody has a life to make,
Somebody is busy in the life already made,
And somebody's somebody has problems from me..
That's what the world's population sounds to me!

I want to die,
I want to end my life,
Maybe a dagger, a bottle of pills,
A gun or just the kitchen knife..

Or else,
Maybe this world could be made a better place,
And this Earth can too have better grace...
Where all are the winners of the same race,
Where there's no religion, no gender and no race..

Where the news  isn't flooded with - murders, robberies, corruption, abduction and ****..

Where people love humanity, and equality,
Where people love animals and are against them the cruelty,
Where mother nature is treated with all the novelty..
And where people don't live for money..

And where there is no liquor, no smoking pipe,
All humans, living a peaceful life..

No army - fighting for borders,
No policemen killing innocent 'cause of orders,
No terrorists no racists,
And humanity has no horrors...

I know that world is kinda impossible to create,
But maybe this does happen,
If  a little  step  we  initiate..

We're so many yet so alone,
We live in a  prison and call it a home..

Writer’s block
Blocked on the idea
Of what should be written
The rush to shush the shock.

Love stands naked de
Idealized it is taken
To its blankness to be
Withering alone white

Ness of its imperfection.
In the dead of the night
Time, slowly sings extinction
A painted sorrow in the sea.

Of its crippling cry
Sis and cis(ed)-glow.
By now it knows its eye
Is like a creasèd flow!

Love is afraid it is will
Ingly ugly, that doesn’t
Quite go with the thrill
Yes, it could dream yet it doesn’t

Let love melt on its own
Ed body now left alone!
It is filthy and during dawn
It’s just jittering for the john!

December 1, 2015
Lyon 2 University, France, 7:00 pm

An emptiness
Defined by isolationism...
A lonliness
Defined by desire...
A lack
Defined by me...

A desire
To fill the emotions
With substantial satiation
Enough to satisfy
The animal within
'Beast mode' never ends for me
A horror
Committed by me
Condemned by most
Cursed by all.....
Is this me?
Is this path mine?  
Am I destined...
To be a sojourner all my days
Is it predetermined?  
Or is this a path yet to be defined
By Him
And me....
Is it past that time?
The time or redefining reality?

....

I will redefine myself

She stuffed up her bra, puckered her lips,
massaging the ache that came from her new hips.
Her stomach had been tucked, her ***** uplifted,
her calves replaced with something unfitted.
Hey eyebrows drawn on, her contacts unblinking,
"This is my new face", she thought without thinking.

I was always the kind of kid who liked to fix things
I bought myself a pink hammer when I was 8 years old
and I liked to “fix” things with it.
turns out I wasn’t all that good at fixing and I
mostly just broke things.
nobody really had a problem with it until
I broke myself and then
fix yourself!
they scream
go! nail yourself back together!
but all I really feel like doing is sawing myself in half.
I could see myself failing to fix anything,
watching helplessly with my pink hammer while they
screamed loudly, endlessly
fix yourself fix yourself fix yourself fixyourselffixyourselffixyourselffixyourself
they tried everything.
they took pliers and pried open my brain they
measured and remeasured my sanity with tape and pills
that looked suspiciously like
the bubble in those bars you use to make sure something is even
my mother and father wore safety glasses as i took an axe
to my sense of self and buried it with
a shovel bigger than the three of us
“she’s a bit of a fixer-upper” they say
as if they’re selling a house
they try to fix me up, gorilla glue me together but
it’s too little, too late
I sawed myself in half and there’s
no fixing this one.

It feels easy to you,
Me, drinking my troubles each night,
Try sometime, to gulp a day's worth of pain in a shot,
Let me too hear the reminiscences of the time..
When you'd swallowed your tears and i never found out.

It feels simple enough to you,
Me, intoxicating my crashing heart,
The whiskey is indeed bitter and hard to swallow,
Try sometime to go one more, just one more,
Feel the pain of subduing your pain, that follows.

You say, being honest is hard,
I'm wrong when i lie, when i said I'm alright,
Standing up straight to hold you, when I'm falling is exhausting,
Hold up when you're falling one time,
Know it is never easy my way.