Heads you win,
Tails you lose,
Such a childish game
Yet here I am,
Flipping a coin
over and over again.

Heads you love me
Tails you don't.
My heart yearns for more.
It yearns for truth,
The words in your mind,
The emotions in your core.

Heads I love you,
Tails I don't.
Trying to make sense of this.
How do I feel?
What do I feel?
Or is this simply a trick?

Heads you think about me,
Tails you don't.
Do I ever cross your mind?
Do you ever worry about me?
Wish I was there?
Have you ever given me a sign?

Heads you win,
Tails you lose.
Such a childish game.
Yet here I am,
Flipping a coin
Over and over again.

They say that I have problems:
Schizophrenia and such.
There’s a lot more, but
I don’t understand very much.

Am I crazy?
I can’t possibly be!
There isn’t anything
Wrong with me.

Why am I in this cage?
Just because I can’t remember my name
Doesn’t mean that I am insane!

If these walls could speak, what would they say?
Would they grieve for the loss of those who had been in this room,
Not realizing that their time was wasting away?

Or do people enjoy losing their minds?
Do they like the sense of clarity that it brings,
Like knowing why the caged bird sings?

The visitors I had today,
The visitors do not exist,
Or so the doctors say.

I told the doctors about the knight
Who showed me how to make pictures with raindrops on the window.
They simply said that my mind is in limbo.

The dragon told me a story
Of how he rescued the knight from the princess,
But the knight got all of the glory.

The princess tells me about the voices,
The voices, the voices that whisper all around
As you slowly feel your sanity giving ground.

“No! Stop! Get out of my head!”
At least, that’s what I wanted
Before my sanity fled.

Quiet
Peaceful
Room to think
Noise
Friends
Clarity
Reason
Chaos
Insanity
Infinity
What a luxury
It must be
To lose your
Mind
Completely.

My friend, what if you are the one who is in chains bound to this earth,
And I am the bird, the one who is soaring free?

So the one you loved
died And now comes
the tragedy: The
Endless eternal
Lines of those who
Wish to give you
Their sympathy.
In plain words:
Your loved one
is dead
And all you get
in return
Are hollow words.
Mom tells you that
They mean well, but
they don't know
what to say.
Most don't know
The way you feel,
The way you want
To rip apart the
Foundations of this World.
Others do know
The utter feeling of
Loss and emptiness,
But they can't put
Their thoughts to
Words so they just
Get in line.
They ask if you
Want to "talk"
And the answer is
Always no;
You don't want
To talk. You
Want your loved one
Back, but that can't
Happen. They expect
You to know that,
So they're always
surprised by that
Desperate wish.
It's great for them
To know that the
Dead are in a better place,
But you don't care
at that moment because
you just want them back.
Denial, bargaining, anger,
Guilt, acceptance;
If you hear those words
one more time,
You might snap.
How dare there be
A "process" to
A state so raw and
So devastating?
Simultaneously wanting
To destroy everything
In your path and cry
In some forgotten corner,
Both such utter forms
Of loneliness.
In a way, it is all beautiful,
If beauty is defined by
Heartbreak and chaos.

A city with a split soul
Once sat high on a hill.
The city was split:
Higher and lower planes.
The higher plane was for
the fortunate,
the powerful,
the wealthy,
the elegant.
Only the best were allowed.
The lower plane housed the
Outcasts,
Forgotten,
Clumsy,
Abandoned.
The society deemed them to
Belong in the sewers;
To be deserving of the worst
Humanity had to offer.
To fall from the upper plane
Was the ultimate shame
Because you could
never go back.
You can fall from grace,
But never rise to elegance.

Upper city was once home,
But, then they learned how
Clumsy and ungraceful I am.
After spilling the soup
Too many times,
They cast me down
To join the lower city.
Home is now among
The lowest of the low.

After fumbling along
Without any sense of direction,
I learned why I was lost.
Upper city was where
Pomp and protocols
Dictated every move.
Now free from that,
I had no way of knowing
The path before me.
The confusion, however,
Came from me,
From my being
unaccustomed to making
My own decisions.

Finding my own way
Was hard, but I learned
That my fall from elegance,
That my fall from grace,
Had been a blessing,
Not a curse.
Free from the rigidity
Of elegance, there was
The vibrancy of clumsiness.
In the stumbling, faltering
Manner through which I
Guided my life, I found
A sweet freedom in
The possibilities.
It is because of this
Wild sensation called
Freedom that I love
The lower city
And pity the upper one.

What do I want in life?

The wind in my hair,
The sun on my back,
The sounds of drumbeats
And rustling trees in my ears.
A well-loved book nearby,
And a pen in my hand
With a blank page before me.
A creek running over my toes,
Its melody blending with the trees,
And the grass beneath me.
The arms of the one I love around me.
That is all I want
From this life.
With only this,
I will be content for all of my days.

Two o'clock in the morning
Is my best friend.
The steam from my
Fourth cup of coffee
Curls out of my chipped old mug
To caress the frost-kissed window.
The golden glow of my lamp
Disguises the cold light
The moon casts upon the ice shrouded garden.
Two o'clock knows
All my secrets
All my tears
All my schemes.
My cup of coffee and I,
Holding the universe together
Just by our existence,
By our very essence.
For two o'clock in the morning
Is not for the faint of heart.
It is not for the lovers
Or the mundane
Or the sleepers.
Two o'clock in the morning
Is for the writers
For the poets
For the dreamers.
It is for the desperate
The passionate
The obsessed.
They join the stars
Dancing in the winter sky
In their wanderings through the darkness.
Once the mundane fade
Into the realm of sleep,
Heaven's teardrops pour
Their favor on upturned faces,
The faces of those who look to
The stars
The dark
The night
For guidance
For wisdom
And for inspiration.
And so, the daybreak finds me,
Something small dwelling with something enormous,
I and the universe.
It is, however, a part of me,
And I am a part of it.