Time,
the most powerfull agent,
has the potential to mend,
has the potential to destroy.

it create the way to success,
create the energy,
to follow the path of success,
and
it is the one which leads to failure.
time, has the potential to mend,
has the potential to destroy.

It is the agent,
that create distance in bond,
that create misunderstanding,
that create agony and suffering
and
it is the one which heal that pain.
time, has the potential to mend,
has the potential to destroy.

i wasn't ready for you
and i knew you weren't ready for me.
i was scared to show you the mess between my ribs and the hurricane inside my head. i was afraid you'd cower and run.
but they say time, time is the true narcotic for pain
and they were right.
because now i am more than willing to cut my heart open knowing it would only bleed your name
i am willing to tear every layer of my skin to show you what i'm made of.
everything that makes me, me.
my scars, my fears, my hopes and my dreams
my "night pieces" ; the pieces i only share with the moon.
i will show them all.
because i want you to know that i am not perfect
(i am tired of trying to be)
i am a storm beneath flesh and bones
i am made up of tiny cracks and holes that could never be filled
and they are what makes me whole.
i will be your biggest tidal wave.
but darling, if you accept me for everything that i am
and everything that i'm not,
i promise to love you like you've never been loved before.

I stand out in the dark
my fear making me a spotlight
where everyone can see
how I'm frozen to the spot
eyes wide, staring at one point
that seems to be masked by the dark.
But I can see it,
it's there, it has to be.
Wait... I think it moved.
I'm gone I'm gone I'm gone
I'm dead I'm dead I'm dead
Sing a little something please
just to calm me
so I can go in peace.
That's all I want.
As my fear lights me up
showing me off to the evil around me.
To the darkness
To the darkness
Here I am for you to take me
Away from the light that makes me
A target.
Stop. No more.
Fear is controlling me
making me shine in places
that I don't want to be.
That thing is moving closer
closer to me.
To me.
To me.
Please leave me be.
I'm scared I'm scared I'm scared
of what is to become of me
if I allow myself to shine
in the wrong way
in the dark.
The dark the dark the dark
Go away please.
These imagined creatures are torturing me.
They're all my eyes can perceive
since my vision is clouded with
fear fear fear
and nothing is
clear clear clear.
I must get out
pull my feet out of the ground
but it is so difficult
as they have become roots
seeking the safety and stability that the soil
provides them.
I still can't move my legs
and now my arms are frozen above my head
and I feel my skin becoming more rough
and I find that I no longer have a mouth.
I can't speak, scream, or fight
my rooted feet had sunk too deep
and the spotlight has gone away
yet I am here to stay
to witness others get lost just like me
and watch their painful transition
into a tree
Whose face is etched in hard lines on the trunk
and whose mind wanders like they used to
But yet nothing is the same anymore
as their feet sunk too deep
since their fear made them take root
in the dark
In the dark
In the dark

life isnt always the frosting on the cupcake
sometimes its the wrapper and
belongs in the trash

Towering new york skyscrapers scraping by,
Burning cars and crying taxis honking like a broken record,
Crushing fragile crystal windows under hurried and hushed steps,
Bumping into each other and mouthing a flimsy apology,
Digging heels into half-dried concrete and waiting to dry up as well,
Reading into life a lil too much and getting hit by a car,
I guess

It is out of habit for a poet to personify the oceans.  Write about how the waves kisses the shore each time the moon tried to pull it away; and then remind yourself how when hot meets cold, they're disaster-bound. Playing pretend was a habit of yours. After all, it was a form of survival- where you get the change in your pockets.

You were fascinated by how the conch seemed to speak in waves no matter how far away you were from the ocean, as if it never depended its beauty in the place it finds itself. Its emptiness allowed itself to echo its surroundings. And if you'd uncover what was buried, you'd think it be a chest- an empty one that will finally be tipped full.

When you mimicked the sound of the ocean, it couldn't lull me to sleep. It kept me awake every night for fear that I'd drown; see, your promises came like waves, with nothing in between. You gave your words away like the weight you had been carrying in you; and I almost thought you had spat your heart out in the process of cleaning your guts. There is so many things you poured out, and I guess I managed to save some- sorrow.

When it stopped, you spoke in hushed tones and it sounded like canon shots in a distance. They say you are a product of your surroundings and you are filling yourself with everything you can find laying around, stacked so precariously high like a game of Jenga- the thrill was in watching it topple and fall. These pieces never belonged to you and you still have nothing to give when you are growing close resemblance to a shrapnel shell. When you are at war with yourself, there is no refuge: dig a foxhole until it blows over and that'd be your grave. How do you hide from yourself? Scream when you listen to the conch again- it's the sound of war.

Break your habits before they break you; times like this, I wish you were an empty shell.

Have you ever sat
in the middle of a river
whose waters whisper
the secrets of life?

Behind you, the sound of
your memories flowing back
some reach you with a smack
opening an old crack.
Others, pleasant recollections
of sight, sound and touch
from the waters brush.

Ahead, the sound of possibilities
of who you choose to be
go on endlessly
the waters ebb and flow
with you as you go.

From where you are the end isn't clear
and that's not something to fear
revel in this moment, being here.
There is only this one.
Close your eyes, and another has begun.
Don't wait for the rise and fall of the sun
to seize what you want from life
to be static is to suffer from a psyche in strife.
Stop gluing yourself to places that
are not your home
give up the fight
there is nothing to combat.
Live in self-made hell
or abolish the shell
of your expectations
if you want to live a life of jubilation.

1. Perhaps you should reconsider wearing your heart on your sleeves- it is not an accessory. You are allowed though, to hide other things in its place.

2. Some were in it just for a good catch. You could let a heart slide out their hands like a dying fish, but never know if a tendon ever broke.

3. Do not use the term: bull's eye. You never could stand loud noises. You were more of a hunter, than a guns man, surviving on whatever spoils that crosses your path. Please do note though, that one man's meat may be another man's poison. Don't just stomach whatever you find.

4. But then again, a single bullet is all it takes to **** a person. I guess you liked it when these bullet fragments clung onto your insides like a barb, as if you were a lethal weapon to begin with.

5. Are you sure you want to investigate crime scenes? You might find his fingerprints everywhere.

6. Do not look for company. Misery loves company.

7. You are not a gemmologist; people aren't diamonds. Don't treat them like one if you are only going to end up looking for faults within them.

8. Never fall just because someone offered to catch you. You are not going to like the way he touches you. His hands will feel like a million ant bites digging tunnels under your skin; and you might just tear your veins apart by mistake. You will think you jumped into a flower bed but all you can mutter will be “rose with thorns rose with thorns” all over again.

9. When you find yourself taken aback by what you see in the mirror, do not shut the windows to your soul. They said to love yourself, but you can’t love something as hollow as those eyes- there is nothing to fall for. Pick yourself up before someone falls off the windowsill again. How long has it been since you washed these curtains? These cobwebs spelt out really bad memories that you do not have to be reminded of.

10. Do not try to play god. You can’t immortalize. You do not have that big of a hand to hold on to everything that ever passed by. Don’t tire yourself out and tear yourself apart. There are many things that you can hold and break. And if you are going to hold someone’s breath, don’t let go because they might never breathe the same again; the feeling of shards in your lungs should still be as vivid as the road signs that read “U-turn” before unfulfilled promises crashed down on you.

11. Do not take him as another one of your proses. He is not made up of words. He is a person. Remember that.

12. If you love what he loves, you will never love those things the same again when he leaves.

13. Get your feelings clear and save both parties the agony. It should not satisfy you to watch him **** himself while he lights you on fire; these stringers that says “be like drugs, let him die for you.” is just another bunch of filthy decoration.

14. Never. I repeat, NEVER see someone else in him. Never take him as a replacement.

15. Clench your fists till your knuckles turn white and your palms sweat out. Pick up these sands desperately as you might. Never stay with someone you never really wanted to be with.

A cold heart was once the warmest
A  bitter tongue was once the sweetest
A devil was once an  angel
A cruel was once the kindest
And a villain was once a **hero