how many sleepless nights do you want to experience to finally understand that what all you want in life is balance?

feeling like a zombie that just roams aimlessly trying to find the next target. frustration in the form that you just want to rip your own face or brain off. because you just can't do things right. you blame yourself.

it's useless. those sea waves are always stronger than you are. no matter how hard you try. maybe you're just you own enemy. maybe you're fighting against yourself.

remember how in our childhood days we would feel happiness everyday without fail? looking at pretty flowers, flying kites, playing toys, playing with friends at the playground. naivety. where life was so much more brighter, filled with hope and laughter every single day.

i would do all i can to feel like that again.
and this is why, i can't sleep all night.

We live in a wasteland.

A place for uneasy souls,
Uncared-for thoughts,
And loneliness.

We live in a wasteland.

A place for wild unrest,
Frequent combat,
And total war.

We live in a wasteland.

A place for the rejects,
The wallflowers,
And the jocks.

We live in a wasteland.

A place of constant turmoil,
Between states and countries,
And people.

We live in a wasteland.

                                            We live in a wasteland.
                                                                              
                                                                                  We live in a wasteland.

We live.

The water
is deep,

do not
drown.

His silhouette, as he stood by the stone,
Resembled a thoughtful Alfred Hitchcock
With fine cane in hand, slightly stooped
Fingers from his free hand, touching lightly
The carefully carved grey marbled stone
Lost in thought and dying sunshine
A single tear falls, as he smiles
Then cane in hand, turns, walks away
Carrying the name on the stone with him.

ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
   *stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
   stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
   stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends