She always told me to choose my battles,
but she was never really a fighter. She
was selective, and exclusive - creating
a stone fence around her kingdom, in
hopes of blocking all suffering and
trapping all the happening. She was head
strong, stubborn - liked to be right, even
when it meant doing something dead wrong.
"You keep your friends close, and your
enemies farthest," and that was how she
got by amongst those who were toxic. She
made homes out of rubble, and found
something magical when all and everyone
had left; it was a kingdom of only a few,
but it was hers. And she liked it that way.

                                   My mother always told me to choose my
                                   battles. And I never really understood until
                                   now. She was selective and exclusive, but
                                   she was cunning and realistic. Why risk
                                   warfare over the approval of one person,
                                   when you could spend your time creating a loyal
                                   army instead? Fighting for nothing but the
                                   upper-hand on some golden pedestal, I burned
                                   down the remains of my dignity and became
                                   a soldier I couldn't even look in the mirror. I
                                   fought to be the better person, all to risk
                                   becoming the complete opposite. I chose his
                                   battle, but I did not have to lose mine. So, I
                                   finally waved my white flag high, surrendered
                                   to the will of my own. And somehow that was
                                   just enough to win the war inside my mind.

gd

Newton told me that an object in motion tends to stay in motion,
but can he explain why my mind wanders
around the massive uncertainties of this universe
while my feet are kept planted in place?

He mentioned something about my mass and acceleration
creating some explainable force, but how can he account
for the way my heart flutters for miles
just by looking into his eyes?

What force am I creating
other than the force of utter, prodigal passion
that can neither be measured nor equated?
But maybe he got one thing right:

He mentioned something about every action
resulting in an opposite and equal reaction -
so is that why I go from feeling so much
to feeling nothing at all?

gd

Just another
drink they
whisper and
they think
                                  "what a waste of innocence, when                      
                                    you can gain some confidence."                        
Just a little sip,
sweet taste and
blood red lips -     
                                    another for the road even                                  
                          ­          after everything they've told,                          
you'll just stumble
for a boy who might
just leave you cold.

gd

You no longer cause hurricanes in my heart
like you used to with the bat of your eyes,
and I've realized I've grown tired
of the way you walk in short strides.

I'm tired of the lingering vowels in the way you speak,
and the distant silence you keep between us on purpose.
I can't fathom how I fell for your
selfish words and pungent scent.

I was so lost in love
(such a foul, sickening word indeed)
to even realize you would lead me
down the path of quite the opposite.

Your actions were misconstrued because your eyes
wandered where I could never dare to look -
past the deadly wood, into another realm where you
built a marble fence around, blocking me off entirely.

How much time I wasted trying to knock that wall over
when it could have been used for my own self-worth.
All the time I spent trying to make you happy,
whilst you did nothing but cause me sadness.

Such noble attributes of a prince
to leave his kingdom in the midst of a war,
leaving his lover to sort through the clutter,
and pay the price for being a "bother".

gd