With muddled hands all aligned
we fought the chains that confine
our hope for an equal world.
The brutish pain has been hurled
in our general direction, years and years;
collated tears and tears, unchanged.

Created division between poor and rich,
as though the poor aren’t human
reshaped and modelled to, look like,
speak like, act like but not quite, like human.
The brutish pain has been hurled
in our general direction, years and years;
collated tears and tears, unchanged.

We are human,
trying to turn the page,
trying to create a change,
so that the story continues on…

Where did that little girl go?
The one who ran around tirelessly
Till she spewed up the juice she drank
As she darts a happy eye
Towards me and says
'Don't worry I'm on a juice cleanse'.

Where did that teenager go?
The one who ran around tirelessly
Trying to solve the problems of the world.
"No matter how hard you try dear,
You're never going to save the environment,
No matter how hard you try dear,
You're never going to cure AIDS right now,
No matter how hard you try dear,
You can't fix every relationship issues,
No matter how hard you try sweetheart,
There's just no way you can do all that alone."

But she tried, oh how she tried
and as tears ran down her cheeks,
she held a smile
with her eyes
still shimmering of a fading light
she said
'You watch me. I'll do it all,
I'll prove you wrong
I am a ******* champ'.

Where did that teenager go?
The one who objected to the ideas of impossibility,
The one who did her best to prove everyone wrong.
_____

"She's never going to make it to 18."
they said derisively towards her,
they said holding barbed wired words
across her shattering heart.

Why didn't you try to prove them wrong.
Where did THAT teenager go?
Why didn't you prove them wrong?

Blobs of despair
Tarnishing over beauty
On a torn up canvas
That slowly wastes away
With every bush stroke.

Every new layer of ink
will slowly disappear
through time and
what is left in the end
is a canvas with
a thousand different
colours, each
completely
indistinguishable.

Watercolor ink running,
rummaging through
the canvas. Slowly
becoming smeared
over what purity
was left of the canvas.

Life is much like painting
With every brush stroke
With every color
With every indentation
The canvas will no doubt
vanish.

They'll let you rot in mildew,
And they'll just let that **** you.
They'll turn your greens into blues,
And burn you like a dynamite's fuse.

They would make sure your last breath,
Is covered in the stench of death,
They'll show you that this was life's debt,
And that when you're right, you have nothing left.

If you happened to be a girl and cute,
They'd take your purity as loot,
Sever your neck with bamboo till you're mute,
And all of this will be before they shoot.

They'll cuff your leg two sizes to small,
So that you slouched even if you're tall,
They'd make sure you'd answer death's call,
And they'll laugh when they take your all.

Cause in the darkness,
You'd fall faster,
The way you looked pass her,
Not taking time to acknowledge,
All the pain in your life she abolished,
By absorbing it into her own skin.
Now the shadows overlook her tear stained cheeks,
And the shadow caster,
Will only ever see her as a true disaster,
Never understood the hole in her soul,
That no matter what, she could never be whole,
It was all out of her control.

Take time to look around,
Breathe,
Because when the sun goes down,
Those who surround,
You,
Might be fighting darker demons,
Than you will ever know.

I'm Sorry for not noticing.
I'm Sorry I couldn't build an Earth for you,
I'm Sorry that the sky had to be blue,
As though there were no better colours,
I can still remember the way your shoulder shudders,
The cold wind touching on you as I lend you my jacket,
Maybe this is my life's package,
To roam a world without you.
I miss you,
The way a butterfly misses its former self,
The way a ******* addict misses help.
I missed you,
And now I miss you.

We never really knew whether this was our heart's calling
Or knew how far the both of us had actually fallen
We merely understood that we enjoyed the teasing and playing
And we learnt to appreciate it even more when it was raining.
It started with simple ideas of loneliness and singularity
Then it became a rather complete ******* plurality
We'd find words to describe the sensation as we climaxed
Only to come to no avail over how lost we were in our tracks
And it'll occupy a permanent space in my memories
Entitled 'Rainy days: my bestie taught me to write stories'.

Remember me, I gave you that pen?
I'm sorry.... What was your name again?
It's a name that's common so it's ok to forget
I guess an Eric, Peter or James is my best bet?
You know that pen? I bled my blood as ink
I took a carved bone as the tip, hence the pink
Wow, why didn't you keep it yourself then
Because I want you to feel me when you use that pen
That's rather disturbing, I think you need help
Oh well? Where am I suppose to find it, yelp?
No , a professional. Someone who's skilled enough
You don't get it do you, a pen is not just 'stuff'
I wanted to let you know that I would give my life
To see you write your thoughts without a strife
I want to be the sound of a pen against your paper
Or the beat of your heart that never tapers
I want you to know that I have loved you
And giving a part of me to you, seemed right to do*
GET AWAY FROM ME YOU ******* CREEP!

He admired everything about her
Her unmatched inner beauty
Alongside her angelic external.

He had dreamed about her
For many many star filled nights
He had always wanted to say 'hi'

Her angelic presence scared him
Afraid he won't ever be good enough
He hid his feelings from her.

He took the courage to speak
With a tiny voice and a tiny squeak
He said "You're beautiful dear".

He fell in love with the most
Perfect girl anyone could ever meet
He knew he was ready for the L word.

The way she told him to shhhhut up
Or the way that she is extremely adorable
Is all incomparable to anyone on Earth.

She is the beats of a heart retaining life
She is the ***** of a butterfly, changing worlds
She is the angel who he had prayed for every night.

We live in a world where clouds of hope
Plummet upon this vast land mass
Only to be met with disappointment.

We live in a world where love
Is dressed up as a thread tied from above
Forming bonds between two individuals.

We live in a world where being accepted
Is more important than being unique
Unable to strive to surpass one another.

We live in a world where the cruel
Tread upon the kind
Just to signify some surmising strength.

We live in a world where hearts get broken
Where words of love have been spoken
Only to equate to words of a politician.

What if humans didn't have eyebrows
Would we all just hide out
Or would we spend our nights out,
because monsters should not be seen in daylight
and the moon is always in our favour.
We're werewolves and vampires,
And the blue skies lit by the sun
did not belong to us.

We are monsters after all, and daylight
meant exposing ourselves to ridicule and judgement,
as though we could never find beauty in simple;
it is perfect circled smiles with dimples
that were considered cute, and the larger angles
were obtuse while the smaller are acute.

We label it 'fashion statement'
it is make-up on faces,
constant changing tastes,
just to fit in with the popular.
The masses, the larger groups;
always stuck on "what is the latest scoop"
as though life was one big cone of ice cream.


We've been in and out before
We've been through open doors,
We've built buildings
To create ceilings.
Just to keep monsters
and the less popular,
inside.
Stuck between being buried six feet under
and the ceiling.

I glimpsed upon a lady,
Completely mesmerised,
Curvaceous Katie,
I couldn't avert my eyes.

The way she paced herself,
Left me with a nosebleed,
I couldn't help myself,
But want her to bear my seed.

Eyes gawked on her behind,
As well as her breast,
I want to make her mine,
But this is all said in jest.

She was despicable,
Almost evil to an extent,
But a frame so irresistible,
And an alluring scent.

That girl is poison,
So even five erections,
My heart was frozen,
I would never show Katie affection.

You have been the star beaming lights through my dark nights
I wish I knew how to show my gratitude to you
The helpful voice of reason that showed me left from right
And made sure that my heart aches don't leave me askew.

You are an amazing person and with a very helpful heart
I hope this poem reaches you and that 'thank you' is just a start.

It was friendly love,
The way they pushed him off a flight of stairs,
Crippled him emotionally to extent, no one cares,
Deflated his ego whenever it was apparent,
Crushed his soul by mentioning the loss of his parent,
Tore his world apart by the cruel nature of words,
Their own ferocity and cruelty they never heard,
For it was not their reality crumbling brick by brick,
Imparting a daunting nightmare for a mind becoming sick.
        Its was friendly love....
                                            At least that was what they called it...

I hate sore throats
Where my voice
Is on complete mute.

Don't get me wrong
I love the silence,
Just silence.

I hate the memories
Comes with being
Voiceless.

The dry raspy
Gravel sounding
Voice.

The struggle
Of saying full
Words.

It's like a
CD skipping
A musical note

      Due to a scratch on the disc.

I hate the memories
Of a sore throat,
Where everything started...

              The memories of being
               Unable to speak or scream
                I hate the memories
                  Of a sore throat

I inhale the summery air
Fantasizing that it's your hair
No, I don't have a hair fetish
It just makes me coquettish
Thus I just contradicted myself
But I also want something heartfelt.

I imagine you seductively hissing soft words
Into my ear.
"Ssssssssssssssssssssssss" you haven't finished
But the sound is giving me the urge to urinate,
You continue
"Ssssssssssssssssss............cereal".
I go and grab a bowl of cereal for you
And that is a perfect morning for me.

Struggling to force sleep,
I refuse to count those sheeps,
I counted demons
.....

Sitting on stairways
Listening to the air waves,
He sits on the stairways
As he stares away
Into the furthest constellations.

He questions divine creations,
'Did God make the stars,
Or was it always ours?
Do the specks of light
That lit up holes into the night
To assemble shapes of kite
Just to build a bit of beauty
Dream a drab of duty
Into our world?'

With stars,
Comes people to admire them,
Who aspire to them,
And we are left thinking,
As we sit with a sinking-
feeling while sitting on stairways
Sitting on stairways
as we stare away
into the night skies
loving the night light.

Love is
Holding hands
On green pastures
As your feet
Meets
The blades of grass
Tickling
Right to your heart.

Love is
Running on the sand
Towards the clear blue
Waters
That keep both your
Soul
As fluid as the waves.

Love is
Kisses in the morning
Followed
By endless smiles
As
The two stare into
Each
Other's eyes.

You know what's good
About love?
Love is chaotic
Love is not cemented
Love is different
For each different people
And
Love will unite two
People who feel love
The same way.
Whether it'll be at
An art gallery
At an orchestra
At a concert
Or even in a house.

My love
Is someone who
Will skydive with me
Staring into my eyes
And as we land
They ask me
'You're ok right?',
And we kiss
As I interrupt
The kiss with a joke
(if I knew I'd get a kiss
I'd drop you from a plane
More often
Or some
Other method,
Just to see her smile)
So we both
Laugh while looking
At each other.
Then again
I haven't found my
True definition
Of love as yet,
It could be as simple
As writing a poem
Together
Or reciting a poem
To each other
Or the simplistic
Idea of just giving
Feedback to a poem.
Love strikes like
A misdirected
Arrow,
For love is chaotic
But beautiful.
I love you.

'Don't chase girls. Chase a career. Chase enough money and girls will come. Don't dwell on heartbreak, work yourself to death and don't get married, the next time I meet you better be at your funeral because you have worked yourself to death'.

One and half year later
'This is my girlfriend. We're getting engaged. Yeah chase love. It's beautiful'.

Every small voice heard,
Is ultimately another life being saved.

They say you learn plenty
When you finally hit twenty
That everything changes
You connect with strangers
Abandon crazy dreams
Let go of balancing beams
To pursue proper prospects
Against all child you expects.

No matter how many years it's been
You will never once again be a teen.

I drive by so many cars,
I wish you were in one of them,
But you are as far as the stars,
And I couldn't reach you even if I tried.

My heart beats a tune for you,
An orchestrated symphony of brass,
For you make me bleed red when I'm blue,
And all I am is a walking piece of glass.

So sharp and wickedly dangerous,
I could fall and break under myself,
But it was you who held me painless,
And fragile was my past self.

Your palms suffered cuts from my jagged edges,
But you never complained,
For it was your heart that fell like hedges,
Broken, cut down and torn to shreds.

Without a single complaint,
You held my thorn filled heart,
And picked at the thorns,
To make me a better person.

He left that night
Thinking everything will be alright
Caught by a horrid surprise
As he came home to a cheating wife.

He slept on the couch that night
While lovers laid in their bed, twice,
As he lined the couch with tears
And heard the two ******* cheers.

'Keep it down or he'll hear us'
Said the woman with a hand on her bust
'No he's got his eyes closed, let him rest'
Said the man fondling the woman's breast.

He left that night
Thinking everything will be alright
As he came home to a cheating wife
And took his own life.

How did I get lucky
enough to have met you?

I am the wind whistling between the blades of the grass,
I am the flower that sits on a stem made out of brass,
I am the weeds that infests and annoy in appearance,
I am the dandelions standing tall in need of clearance.

I am the house that sits on the side of a road, unheard,
I am the cars that drive crookedly seemingly absurd,
I am the pedestrians who travel amongst the roads,
I am the tourists that roam freely without abodes.

I am the words that relay the thoughts onto paper,
I am the only source of hope, my own mind's saviour.

"'I will talk to you later"*,
But later never comes*.

I stare up into the night sky in admiration
Little twinkles forms many constellations
Each with its separate formed definitions
And I hope I'm not stuck in repetitions
           But
You are the most beautiful star out there
Your sense of humour is very very rare
My immaturity still exudes from my being
But the deeper parts others aren't seeing
You saw right through my external facade
And dislodged pieces of broken shards
Of glass that tampered with my heart beat
And this I surely will always forever repeat
...
You are the most beautiful star out there
Your adorableness in the way you care
Your playfulness that brings upon a smile
You've made everything reform like tiles
From the shattered pieces of my heart
Reshaped into something sweet like a ****.
You placed tiles and tiles of me together
Forming a picture that looks a lot better
Because the picture now has you in it
And maybe this time it truly is infinite
But even if time stood completely still
You'd move stars through rocky hills
Just so they would shine over us
You'd turn iron and copper from rust
And maybe this time, through all the stuff
Truly everything you do for me is enough...

I really thought you were in love with me.

For the longest time, that was what I
Wanted to believe.

I saw a flower seed
planted into the ground
and grew by starlight
to be forever dirt bound.

I saw a flower's first petals
So unspoilt, so pure
As I witness the scent
sprayed to allure.

I watched a red flower
go through photosynthesis
growing warm with sunlight
seemed rather intimate.

I saw a flower bloom
amongst a lamp post
under the light of stars
that lit up the coast.

I saw a flower in the night
its petals spread across
the seas coating the waters
with a little bit of gloss.

I saw a flower, so beautiful
so I uprooted the flower
hoping that it lived beyond
the confines of an hour.

I saw a flower, uprooted
from the soil
yet never once did wilt
or ever spoil.

I saw a flower so beautiful,
a rose that casted a shadow
in my heart, forever giving
me shelter and making me glow.

I saw a beautiful flower
a scarlet coloured rose
that could have made me
abandon poetry & prose.

...For I could not call myself
a poet, knowing that I could
never describe the perfection,
of the rose as a poet should.

...For I could not call myself
a poet, knowing that I haven't
learnt the words to describe the
rose that showed compassion.

Though surrounded by intoxicated
personalities
Hurting and dragging you down
Somehow
You rose to be a pure soul
Who knows
What it is like to put family
Ahead of themselves.
You deserve the world
And I'm hoping one day
Someone can give you the world,
Maybe one without any inebriating possibilities.

A lake where flowers
Were left to wilt amongst ****
To mourn the lost kids.

Cast aside the brush and let me take your palms
We’ll place sadness and loneliness at the horizon
As we watch from the shores where the waves are calm
And take the ink to the canvas to extend our peace
With our symbolic love; so that the horizons
Become our serene paradise, to match our hearts
With our eyes. Our hearts will walk together
Beyond the horizon, further than our vision could ever
Take us.

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words will leave scars across my heart.
The lessons that words will always impart,
Insecurities deem me worthless for even one of the thrones.
So when I'm racked up with debts from loans.
Remember and tattoo this across your heart,
The words I will now choose to impart,
Words will always break more than just bones.

'She is dead', they tell me
Whether it's 10:03 or 12:03
She is always alive to me.

Though her world ended,
She survived
Forever alive
In my memories.

Though she remains forever 17,
She's still alive with me at 11:13
She's still alive with me at 12:13
She's still alive and forever a teen,
SHE'S STILL ALIVE......

SHE SURVIVED....
And SHE'S STILL ALIVE...
with me.

For me
Happiness is synonymous with chocolate
For me
Melted is synonymous with chaos
For me
Tragedy is synonymous with melted happiness.

To open a bar of chocolate
Only to realize what you have
Is the stain of a thousand crushed dreams and hope.

What is the point of living when even the chocolate I wish to consume can't even maintain its perfect shape?

What hope do we have at finding a perfect human when we can't even have a perfect creation of a simplistic sweetness?

Love with a love that burns brighter than the sun
Because when your final breath comes undone
You'll know that love will leave you wishing
That you have loved deeper, loved harder,
and loved more.

Necessities
Pessimistically
Things keeping me alive

Necessities
Optimistically
Things keeping me going

Necessities
Optimistically and Pessimistically
You

Things keeping me alive and going
You

Things that make me see beauty
You

Things that keep me sane
You

Things that make me feel bad for using the word things
You.

Person I always think about before I go to sleep
You

Person I miss the most
You

A chasm of silent cries
My life has been one wild ride
Where violent skies
painted the lows from my high.

I've felt ugly in more ways
Than I've ever been told
I've sat out on cold days
Because nothing was ever warm.

The illusory orbs above me
They taunt their tales
Of how I am born ugly
And I chant 'words don't matter'.

I guess I am a hypocrite
Because I've taught of bright lights
Yet stared into the abyss
unable to visualise a single spectrum.

Do not get me wrong
I am not built of sticks and straws
I've hummed the hymns of unknown songs
And so I float on.

I have loved and lost
I've seen scorched flames
being coated by frost
Yet I am still new to love.

I watched a world burn down
The greatest minds and hearts,
Where ash covered lost towns
I saw the destruction of art.

Some say it didn't happen,
Some say it never mattered,
I witnessed skyscrapers flattenend
And glass shards scattered.

I watched universes collapse
To essentially nothing but dust
And when I wanted to relax
I watched my reality rust.

I watched people destroy too many books
And too many lives
And too many universes
And too many worlds
For one lifetime

Do I judge what my eyes can give me in a minute
Or take to heart the tenderness of your embrace?
They speak judgement between right and wrong
though they find in themselves, the lonely song.
I can't tell you, depth nor length my love may reach
But I can tell you that it settles between the folds,
the creases, the unseen pieces of my heart.
The birds flutter in codes, the clouds hold cameras
but I've seen what it is about yourself I can't deny-
you are not pretty, pretty is too simple a word;
you are beautiful and though the cloud may rain
you are the rainbow captured at the end of it all,
that merely says "smile for the cameras because-
this world, it's a dangerous place but together
we'll light this life up like we're main characters
on a stage".

So I sit and hope for it to be over,
Praying that I'll remain sober;
As I overlook the sunrise
Watching it's slow demise
Atop a scenic mountainside.
I'd ask myself over and over, 'why-
You found love with someone else
Yet I found myself begging for help
Only to bear that I've fallen silent
of always being in complete reliant
On your shoulders when I needed to cry
And your warm words when I wanted to die'.

I cast my eyes on the sunset
Watching all that it begets,
Only to realise no matter how
That simple yet quotable vow
We promised to each other
Of being eternally written lovers,
Yet we disparagingly fall apart
Unable to mend pieces of hearts
Crushed by the torrential waters
Into minimal multiple quarters.

I wanted you so bad to turn back,
Yet you left without ever looking back
And I had hoped I didn't see you walk away;
For that moment is seared into my memory even today.

Her memories live
Yet she was taken too soon
I know not by whom.

Without you, to keep by my side
I won't know, if I'm dead or alive,
I don't know, if it's just a week,
To some, its a drop in the sea,
but to me, it's an ocean of blue
I can't find myself some help
just to try and stop missing you.

Without you, to keep by my side
I don't know, if I'm a smile
away from a tear.
So please baby, don't let me hear,
you say...
'It's just a week'.

I should be shedding light on the stigma of society,
how division and segregation reared its ugly head;
and though its been killed in the media and debates,
it's somehow sought shelter and survived.

I could offer words on the issue, share my thoughts;
break out all I can from what I hear, unsure whether
the facts and figures are configured fiction, so my words
are an ember wasting away with the winds, empty.

Where do I stand? Do I stand for the weak, or do I
hold hands with the weak, do I sing the songs that
I dare not speak or do I let myself believe, this is just?
This is just.....society reverting into its primal form.
Until nothing but ash, bones, dust and destruction,
is all that remains.