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We stray from the stranger’s gaze

Not because
The eyes bare the soul

But because
They may see inside it

And cannot see its beauty
Who are you to tell me that you missed me
when all you did was cause me pain
who are you to tell me he did me no wrong
when you stood there watching him suffocate my soul
and beat the **** out of me
who are you to tell me you cared about me
when you kept your mouth shut when you knew he abused me
who are you to tell me that you loved me
when you walked out of my life when I needed you the most
Who are you to tell me that I broke your heart
when all I did was try to fix it
Who are you to tell me that you got my back
when all you did was stab it
Who are you to tell me that will never forget me
when I already have...
Five months
Five months since I almost ended it all
Five months since I almost left the earth
Five months since I tried to swallow a whole bottle of pills
Five months since my mom stopped me, saved me

Five months
153 days
Since I tried to **** myself
T'was the night before Christmas,
And the streets were full of light.
The streets were full of music.
The streets were full of people.

The neighborhood t'was never empty,
For the hearty laughter echoed through the houses.
Everyone seemed to enjoy Christmas.
All but one lad were in the festive moods.

Casey found no light.
Colourblindness had robbed that from him.
Casey heard no laugh, nor music.
Being deaf stripped him of that loving sound.
Casey could not be in the streets.
Too many people caused anxiety.

He found himself every Christmas Eve another dread.
Less people,
Less love,
Less gifts.

He was being forgotten,
And no more worse was his name.
It had become a mere whisper of wind.
No one knew him anymore.

T'was the night before Christmas,
And Casey found no festive cheer.
He found no holiday spirit.
I desperately keep a feeling,
I write your name in the sky until I'm dying.
but your name is lost in the rain.

Then falling into the universe,
Buried by the earth,
And left there; forever
Jakarta | 08 Juli 17 | 6.56 PM
I grind my teeth
Hearing the clicks
What are these cords?
Puzzling with all these words
It seems alienitic
They say I am hand picked
To use such things
No! not the ringtones
Take it away and leave me alone
Stop making me act like a clone
These machines make me crazy
My brains and bones growing hazy
They not mine not my own
How am I here in this time zone
It's suppose to be 500 B.C
And here I am sitting next to a P.C
Hail God! get me out of here
I fear my end, I fear I am nowhere
I'm getting insane, I am haunted by phobia
The trouble I get in, is through this techo gear
Year by year they send me here
To examine my head cause I am a lunatic
A crazy being over used brain, a phobiatic
No pain just systematically down insane
A shot and a dramatic labelled in vain
Technophobia was the tag
And again they let me out of this bag!


©sim
Fictional write.
We'll have 7 days in our hands
What will we do with each day?
Go race car driving, or wine tasting?
**** I guess we'll figure it out in LA

Perhaps we'll skate on a beach
Or take a long drive to the Bay
I don't really care, long as I'm with you
Everyday when we're in LA

I wonder what the future holds
And if we'll ever find our way
I want to see mutual success
Abundantly for us in LA

I want the privilege of knowing you
More than I already can say
Stripped and bare with nothing to hide
I want us to flourish while out in LA

Our chapter here will soon end
And we'll wake up somewhere far away
I think I'll be able to handle such distance
As long as its "you and I" in LA
For the loml
December 11, 2017 8:12pm
We'll be moving to LA in January **** is crazy
The stroke of my fingertips
running against my back
arms crossed.

Dents of my fingernails
carved into my back.
Head down,
tears stream

Skin and bones,
Veins and nerves.
Sitting still as a stone
thinking of what I deserve.

From love and affection  
to hate and disgust,
looking at my reflection
but all I see is a speck of dust.

Used and broken down.
Can't seem to find my self worth.
Tired of being shut down.
Let my voice be heard.

Us women,
are much more
than what we are defined as

Our self worth and self love
are torn down
by those who see us weak.

But our voices
will ****** be heard.
Power and love
is what we prefer.
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