Children are dying...
I'm kicking back, with nothing to complain about, yet complaining.
While *children are dying
I'm dancing
to my favourite song with my pals and sisters.

While they bleed because of the blisters
caused by the wood of their broken homes.
Unheard screams and groans
Getting ***** by strange misters.
Bombs and grenades fall like raindrops from the sky

BOOM BOOM BOOM! The soundtrack of their lives
An endless lullaby
And they cry
and cry.
But I can't hear them,
for the music in my room is too loud.


                                    Children are dying*.

Having races brings me back to running rainbows
Jumping over dogs and pancakes
Shadows stretching beyond computers
Is it my imagination, or did the grass run home?
We are empty aluminium shining in the snow
This is how we eat 1000 GB of soil and lyrics.
We are not,
yet we are
reaching out to grab the tables

If I don't answer my phone,
Will you think I'm ignoring you?
Or will you judge only what is known,
and believe what I say to be true?

If I forget to send you an invite,
Will you sleep less at night?
Thinking: "I was right,
She is truly full of spite!"

If I say I need some space
Will you understand my pace?
I am not insensitive,
I am merely depressive.
Striving to be protective,
Without being oppressive.

My only hope is
That you give me the benefit of the doubt,
I am not your crisis,
nor am I your drought.

Deaf people are sparking a conversation
But how to deaf people communicate
They speak- without relation
To each-other's state.

So imagine how many "I love you's"
Where rather not unsaid
Because in a world it doesn't matter who
Followed, and who lead.

In a world where,
Ideas do not spread,
People take their time to move ahead,
No one has anything to dread...

I am very well aware that it is a place
Where everyone is mislead.
Thus nothing can replace,
The beauty of the said

But imagine how many "I love you's"
Where rather not unsaid
Because in a world it doesn't matter who
Followed, and who lead.

As I lay here I realize
death is not something I should despise
it is simply a fragment of our lives
no matter how much we venture and strive
work things out and compromise.


It should never come as a surprise
that one day...
death will look us straight in the eyes
with no regard to our mothers' cries
no care for our last goodbyes.


We begin to think of...
All those ungrateful sighs
those unworthy lies
those wasted cries
as our soul flies
and our blood dries
then, the body dies.


Now look around.
You are not dead
still above the ground.
Feel you're heart pound
and realise
*the beauty of that sound.

"Forever,"*
she said,
                                                                        right
                                 before she
left.

"17 bullets in his body"

I'll never forget
those words
the doctor had said
while my man was on his death bed

17 bullets
17.

And it was the 17th of March

On our 17th anniversary
And I heard those words
At 1:07 am

17 bullets
and we were both 17 when we first laid eyes on each other
that day when you came over to our house with my brother
and it was the 17th of March

17.