unsaid
goodbyes
are the
hardest,

waiting
to hear them,
is the
longest.

If the beginning of love is a smile,
I should do it more often.
I have been trying to love.
Love so freely
Those I do not love.
To smile upon the face of cruelty.
So sweetly.
To be free.
I think I will smile.
For a while.

I have this voice inside of me which drives me to despair;
Even after every effort made — it still berates beyond repair.

I have this voice inside of me, it screams, it kicks, it yells;
Even as I lay in perfect silence, it commands from tortured hells.

I have this voice inside of me, it has multiplied beyond belief;
I see it lies in all I’ve met — proceeds in everyone — without relief.

I have this voice inside of me, one which came from you;
All the lies you ever told me — they grew, they grew, they grew...

I have a mind inside of me, it haunts me through and through;
If I should ever die by my own hand, it spoke to me, through you.

...

I know of parts inside of me, at first I couldn’t distinguish the two;
One from me and one from you, one was false and another, true.

...

Another part inside of me, seeks to end your reign;
Perhaps by then, I will be governed by silence, perhaps by then, it won’t have to be feigned.

Another part inside of me, pleads for a higher path,
It pleads for me to surface, all in the wake of your aftermath.

...

I feel a beating within me, which yearns to live and grow,
*Even in the screams and contractions, a substance beneath me flows.

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.

bring on the rumbles of thunder
rolling,
rolling,
from the outer space
towards,
towards,
the earth's tamed and untamed maze.

bring on the sharp lightning
striking ,
striking,
from the hands of the Supreme
towards,
towards,
the human's vision streams.

come, come,
heaven-made catastrophe,
bring it on,
bring it on.
for in the loud throbs of
your anger's noise
i calm and silence
my own inner chaos.

no, it will not be about
the moon,
nor about the sprinkles of stars
shining so
soon,

when the queen sun slowly
sinks,
sinks,
to her grave called
western horizon,

i will give
thanks,
thanks,
for 'nother 24 hours
of millions
inhales
and exhales,

and for my existence's
unknown reasons.

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.