I just want you
to be happy
but sometimes
and selfishly
I want to be
your happiness

But
'happiness is a choice'
you say
and you didn't choose me

I clung onto the idea
since you made me happy
it would be the same for you

What is happiness now?
where has it gone to?
In time, society has robbed us
the real meaning of happiness

Go on your own way
and pursue your happiness
for your smile, is my smile
your laugh, is my laugh

and I'll be happy
when you find your happiness
because I love you
always have, always will

two fragile hearts made up of glass
everyone could see right through them both
only they themselves couldn't see the reality

both fell for each other
and whatever falls
will end up breaking

now those two once-glass hearts
shattered into a million emotional pieces

now those two once-glass hearts
will never find their missing parts

now those two once-glass hearts
have turned into nothing
but back into crushed sand

I can't stand this prison
with bars made out of
numbers and equations
I need to escape
Give me
an iron spoon
So I can dig my way out
Give me
a sleeping pill
So I can put
the guard to sleep
Steal the key
Unlock the door
Set me free
C'mon, bell
Hurry up and
                      ring!

A poem is like
A piece of wood.
It can be ripped,
Chopped,
Shaped,
Sanded for smoothness.
Sometimes you nail it;
And it can stick like glue.
You can drill a hole
Right through it,
It might bore one
Through you.
It can get under your skin.
But when it's cut
Against the grain,
It should be read again.

Hey there, woah there
well I'd just like to
take this fine opportunity
to tell you that I assure you,
my good sir, that I don't
give one-eighth of a
one-hundredth of a
flying ****.

You know that moment
When you just want to
Shatter everything
And you want to have the power
To tighten it all into the
Clenching ball of your fist
And all you are searching for
Is some sort of hole in the canvas
Some sort of loose thread
Of thoughts
That you can staple around your fingernails
And t
e
        a
r
You want to slice upon the sky
Let the sun bleed out of it
You want the ground to rupture,
The carpet to erupt
The clock faces to be seared right off
The only satisfaction
You can imagine is one made of
f
r
    a
g
             m
   e
n
           t
      a
t
       i
o
n
   ?

You know that?
Yeah.
This is my rage song.

Her blood lips and pale face was a moon in the night
He held her with gentle whispers of things unsaid between the two
The thick, dead silence of only living words
but death to strike them down with bullets hurting like swords
When they first met
He gave her a pen
She left him with words
He was her first
She was his first
A forbidden love
But she had to let him go
He couldn't take away the pain
She died with the words "You were my first, and only love, I love you"
The paper got lost in the wind.
And so did he.