We don't play dumb because it's not a game and truly very lame.
We don't play blind because a few wants those eyes but if you want to, then pay the price.
We don't play tease because we're not dumb nor blind of the truths that's here.

But if I change my mind I guess it's still and will always be a NO.
I'd build up defenses with no words to throw.
All the obvious has been laid.
Haply stories has to be said.

So this is the battle I should face,
to a place where I'd surely leave a trace.
If the crowd should understand
or if i choose to stay away;
I was too weak to speak and say
but all the decisions are beyond what I can withstand.

I do not hit the blocks just to prove I was right.
because deliberations has been truly my everyday fight.
What takes me aback is rather the truth.
But what scares me more is the possible fruit.
Yet the story that never ends
seems to be a history that never bends.
Now I choose not to be scared.
Vincit Omnia Veritas, Amicus.

I've settled to you
Inside and sheltered
Uncomfortably bound
Like a piece of the puzzle
Like a shoe that doesn't fit
So wrong yet too right
You think of us
So obsolete
from my delusion
But i still question
Why would we even have met
Between the differences
and change
Of happenstances
How could this even exist
and after all desist
Through the absent air?
what was it so unfair
that we had to let down
and fear
of being overgrown
or is this a chapter
one step away
to relieve
to stay
and believe that
love has a replay.

I woke
from an indefinite courage
And all I know
is I can never look back
So where do I get
the strength right now
when you've given up
at this point somehow?

Too little time but
I liked you since then & now
you know it very well.

And when I close my eyes
I have never intended
if I could have just rejected
like you did.
But it was still the same thing
an illusion that we could be everything.

What more is this
than just an open hole
Lingering and lurking around
We've no closure
but is this what you want?
Maybe it has to be like
we feel a lot
cause you fight over it
over yourself
And I want more of us
than to be with someone else

What worse of wrong
could it be than torture
to restrain from
where your heart belonged
cause for the first time
of all the chances
in a very long while
you know it very well.

I was in one table with my enemies
like a laugh & a rant at the same time.
and yes it wasn't easy
to say words that never rhymed.

one bullet to stay sane
and two paddles in disdain.
there was no choice and hence
never possible, never the same.

at the back of the paper
are scribbles that told stories
like a dumb arrow,
to a wistful memoir;
acting like a tiny wit
to the hilarity of what to think,
on how to bear all that
transcendent and ostentatious fib.

a crazy quilt, a needle and a spindle.
to stitch beyond awkwardness,
and cut the insuperable difficulties;
but still you are not awake.

there's no turncoat
no fast cars, no boats
to rainbows & silver linings
for the black & white endings.
and round and round we go.
as the waves flush all the thoughts
like the room was as empty of guts.

the strings of uncertainties
I cannot speak of
or mourn for the next day
or whisper all the words I can say
just to ease the choke away.

for a moment of transgression
in the law of normal feelings,
she was told not to do what to
just to keep sane
or hold the ground in vain.

everything was like an explosion
and it was never thought of
nor anticipated to happen.
It was all the same.
and as what has been said
she abide and waited
with hopes, but no,
it will never happen.

and although the gist was never there,
she always thought of it as erratic.
But to alter her reality
sounded like an imitate;
like a pursuit of a dream
and changing is how to find it.

an indecent self
told her she isn't.
to what she deserved,
she was obscure.
and in the situation she is,
it was like a boisterous thought;
that she was walking with someone,
and he has never been there.

A clique on words
when the game was on.
I was caught off
talking and stammering
of hasty puns and guns.
but it was all good,
only good as can be.

the shoes are both left
while the strings are tied.
one glimpse on bitters;
two cheers on wine.
they started on a struggle
a never ending battle.
until on the other hand
was a stroke of a genius.
and gone was it all;
almost love and almost fall.

the abstract has always been doubt.
yes, he always liked to be unsettled;
too weary to continue
yet too hungry to pursue.

a vague cause and a superstition
for reason no one can recall.
the backslashes of memoirs
take entirely the moments
of what is now and what's tomorrow.

to let and be succumbed
to being the point of what's sane.
to surrender to what's fond of
or to grant freedom of what's gained.

to stay and embrace all to waste;
no guts nor feelings.
to neglect what you expect;
to be happy with what you get;
far more than hurt or sorrow
closer to roads that narrow;
and inspire to go ahead
and wish for more than dead
on whatever beat you have
all arts, all truths
plots & schemes misconstrued.
to give and never receive
when you do what you do.
with hopes all up,
wandering questions of about
songs and whispers
from shadows of specks.
tell me what could it mean to me,
when they speak only to pictures
and lost the story of the book.
to test on a fickle heart
and hope for good fate;
to point with a finger
and choose who to blame.
When breathing has never been harder
like having a choked lung.
all grasp, no glory;
your wrist and your mind
faltered when you tried.