Why a poem ?
This,
Yes this is *******

I force my face to curve
Yes , this is totally *******.

A don't give a **** face ?
Yes,That's why I can't pose,
Astheticism
Is not my **** blood,
Yeah i can fake a smile though

I had never a steering in my hand,
Now I have it
I can direct it to literally anywhere

And yes , I don't know why I kept moving

I have seen thousands of sceneries through this
Window,
Now I really decided to stop on this

Now when I stepped on the surface,
I lost the **** steering

Now someone else has it,
Another steering same purpose

And hey that's totally ******* too,

I have my legs so I can walk
Steps more,
But i will not and can't follow the car though,

The car was **** nice,
Ac inbuilt, soundproof glass
Feeling like on castle,
Looking down on one's who's
On **** bycycle
And one's who on his feet

They are **** ******* ******* too,
But all there is wanted to make a stop

Each stop is just is exaggerated
Now or then doesn't matters

Everyone will lost their **** steering.

This ,
This is
Not poem on sheet
Just pure *******.

And yeah now I am the scenery
Either I wait for the
The person who drives
Or just walk few more steps

Either way it depends on kind of glass
The person wears
Red or green
Cause the traffic light is absolute white
Completely neutral

The light has a button too,
to change accordingly

But as the scenery is
The light is absolute ******* too.

No matter my crisis,
There’s one thing I know-
Even when I’m at my lowest,
I still make the ******* joke.

The room goes quiet,
So I start to smile.
Deflecting pain like an actress,
It never goes out of style.

Tears sting behind my eyes,
But I deliver the line clean.
And everyone laughs,
Because no one knows what the **** it means.

My hurt has a laugh track-
Invisible, robotic, rehearsed.
And if I keep it playing loud enough,
Maybe I won’t feel the worst.

Because silence feels like sinking,
And truth feels like a loss.
But a joke? That’s a win.
Misery is humor’s final boss.

Don’t put your
                 FA.ITH
                    In
                   A.I
                    It
                   A.IN’T
               Your God!

please, won’t you save me ?
save me from myself
i don’t think i can keep running.
tired, i think my legs my give out
cause you and i, we live for the chase

in this sleepy town
i keep things alive
the bustling winds and bullets
will never take me down.
just can’t stop the rush

–

LANA’S iNTERLUDE

i’VE BEEN PUT iN DANGER
SAVE THE WORLD
OR THE GiRL OF YOUR DREAMS.
YOU WON’T ALWAYS GET TO PiCK “BOTH.”

i CAN’T WAiT FOREVER
NO MATTER HOW HARD i TRY
iT’S LiKE WE’RE FROM DiFFERENT PLANETS
THE SiMPLE THOUGHT MAKES ME CRY

WHEN WiLL YOU UNDERSTAND
THAT ALL WE DO iS FLiRT
WITH EACH OTHER AND DEATH
LOVE iSN’T iMMORTAL

–

i can’t risk it
i’ll either lose my life
or lose the light
and i can’t live and love
and be content without you

You are the sparrow, or the one who oversees.
You are the sea worm — the one that bottom-feeds.
You are the urchin which waves could never crash.
You are the person whose feelings will never last.

You are the yeti, whose hand is very grand.
You are the teddy, soft as white sand.
You are all things, and no things, all at once.
You are the heartbeat whose race cannot be won.

Amidst our love’s equations,
ex remained an undetermined variable.

Throughout all of our mathematical madness, we both had some tough problems.

Words heard upon deaf ears, they were just words after all as we both discovered.

Good intentions may have been our shadows, shadows require light and die within darkness.

Early on we practiced addition, as we put ourselves together. Resulting in something bigger than that of our own.

Physical attraction our common denominator, never did our numerators ever line up.

Our individual struggles we battled, quickly multiplying. Neither one of us acquainted with zero so the trauma quickly outnumbered the love.

Resentment a product, dividing our atoms of desire into millions of shattered pieces, as we tore each-other apart.

It quickly became overly apparent, we weren’t solving for an undetermined variable but rather accepting, ex was referring to both of us!  

“Math doesn’t lie.”

I knew something as kid
that now I have forgotten
Time tricks you into thinking
you are going forward
I was chasing being brilliant,
So they told me stupidity
was the prize of intelligence - I get that now
But I’m yet craving sagacity,
Then will I truly get it when I get the chance?
Because perhaps what I lost
is an ignorance that I’ll never recover
And I’ll never be as smart as when i was dumber

the new dark age
heart goes out
world goes up
all due to a love of concrete
and iron indignities

buildings grown in the heartland
steel your future
wrap your face in a foreign flag
make it medieval
so fear and superstition
can live on each floor

from above the cityscape
blueprints of a pinball machine
a train to nowhere
like candles on a cake
that will burn someday
when least expected

ladies against the glass
of morning commutes
show too much cleavage
to people on Sunday
gentlemen with their death sticks
conjure the factory smoke
poisoning a life of leisure
these infinite vistas
continue to rise
elevation well in hand
stitched together
but growing apart

the biomechanical soul
a species out of control
mother solitude and her
modern failures
take the stairs to the roof of her mouth
progress leaves an echo
her final words are
empty, foreboding
and full of lead