I was born when she kissed me.
I died when she left me.
I lived a few weeks, when she loved me.

Sometimes I give birth to words I fear.
In pursuit of forming the right sentences to say,
the depths in shallow letters of my agony produces screaming silences at night.  
Each syllables that I create, my bleeding heart trembles in horror of how it will make a sound.
Thus, my rambling will only announce the pain in every waking moment.

Every vowel and consonants is leading to my insanity.
I've avoided myself to feeling joy in hyperboles,
only to find my wicked tongue commanding my lips to curl.

I figured that these alphabets I learned,
is the production of my despair.
That the metaphors I crave, is the cost of my unbecoming.
Paid full in sorrow, for the phrase and synonyms to state my imperfections.

My uneasiness I set forth to,
is how I wage war to give justice to people I lost in the battle.
No other simile can recognize the discomfort I live in.
I only hope, and only if I'm worthy, that I can learn to be myself once more.

Green Green Rocky Road

Green green rocky road,
take me to a place where silence is a luxury,
and the quiet is my existence.

Green green rocky road,
Walk with me to a place where life is an adventure.
Where the demons won't reach my heart.

Green green rocky road,
where the sea calls me on,
and ride the waves that will wash my sins away.

Green green Rocky road,
Please forgive me for what I am,
I am just a poor boy, sorrow's my middle name.

I'll never love this way again.
I fear that this would be the end of me.
Every version of myself that I meet,
every story that is created,
every memory I can remember,
You will always be there.
It's like a never ending rollercoaster ride,
Where the thrill I seek hopelessly, will always be you.

I'll never love this way again.
I fear that this will be my becoming.
Your scent will always be the fragrance of every color that I can smell.
Like broken crayons,
damaged, but still creates colors in this hell of a life I have.  
Every memory of you won't fade.
I can still see the sky in your eyes even though it's midnight in a darken room.
My devotion, is all paid in sorrow and shame.

I'll never love this way again.
I do not seek for lesser versions of what I felt with you.
I do not crave any taste of someone's lips.
I do not seek any words from others that will comfort my heart.
I do not want anything from someone else.
Unless it is with you.

My favorite picture of you is one where you're waiting for me.
Just a photograph of an old man waiting on a dark house.
Urgently waiting to give the smile that would take the chaos away.

My favorite picture of you, is one where you're looking at me.
Just a photograph of an old man sitting on an old dining chair.
Figuring out, what the right words to speak.

My favorite picture of you, is bent and faded.
Just a photograph of an old man, showing his wings.
Figuring out, how to be there for his son.

Been spending a lot of time with my self.
The quiet says I deserve this hurt
and all I'm left is the silence.
It kinda made sense, right?

I'm wandering the hallways of my mind,
On frail legs, I trudge to go the distance.  
but I get so lost in the corridors of my sorrow.
It's just one of those days, right?

Watching everyone leave me behind is a unique breed of pain.
The night reminds me, that I am not suppose to get what I want.
I suppose this is all I can have, right?

Finding solace in the quiet corners of my room,
is where my tears washes my sadness away.
I can't be like this, right?

I'm finding the purpose of reassurance to be undeserving.
Yet, I greet everyday like something to look forward to.
This is the chaos that I created.