I was so profoundly moved by the words
you managed to produce
In that beautifully-crafted mind of yours
They may as well been scripted
To just my personal delight

If I were to follow the plot line
Will the ending be happy ? Will it be sad?
The only thing I can predict by now:
My heart at your reach,
My soul in your hands

I guess I’m not a ‘good sport’
Yours is the only game I’ve truly lost
Yes, I didn’t take it well,
My personal, favourite hell
The rage, the pain, all still there
I wish I could say
“I wish you farewell”

Isn’t this the age
When we have
A lot of plants,
A bunch of plans
Little money
and even less time?

I’m trying so hard to keep it inside
It’s in the surface of my heart
I can’t scratch it
It’s spreading
And then it overflows
It’s overwhelming
It slides down my face
Salty watery trace
I’ll be okay
Just not today