it's funny how now when i pick my pen up
only for it to drain no drop of ink
not letting all this chaos out of the envelope
is now taking away my ability to think
for all these words stay jumbled in my head
creating pictures of unreal imagination
of daydreams and those moments i bled
i wish to write down this clotting confusion
yet fail i to form simple sentences
filling my bones with apprehensive
and all the while my anxiety eats me alive
i wonder without poetry how shall i survive
because without this i am fully empty
like a starving soul amongst the plenty

thoughts thought everywhere
but not a single word to write,
oh dear reader i feel i don't have long-
what a pity it is to have my plight?

i had this dream last night
you and me and a long bus ride
huddled together in a seat for 2
leaving behind our town's view
we talked for a while
and passed a few smiles
only to let the silence embrace us
keeping away from topics of trust

but i could feel your mind churning
and deep down hoped for a desire burning
for something that i'd craved for far too long
knowing ****** well that it was wrong

and then dozed off me
into yet another fantasy
of a reality pretty far from mine
with our hands intertwined
and our faces mere inches apart
and booooom, i woke up with a start
only too see that your hand had moved
and was now gently touching my fingers
with looks that weren't appropriate to linger

i was hyperventilating, wasn't i?
my face up in ashes like the sunset sky
and your gaze pierced my soul
as if i were a diamond amongst the coal
you whispered my name and said-
"i wish we'd taken my car instead.......
and Oh My God i convulsed there and then,
wondering how did this ever happen?

because even in my dreams know i this
that i am not a part of you that you miss
to your calmness i am chaotic and careless
to your perfection i shall remain a mess
and you will soar high and shall always rise
whereas i will be a broken little girl who cries

because you're the sun that shines too bright
and i am a moth drawn to your darkest light

without words i am just another aimless cloud
floating my way through this warm warm life
trying to get lost while yearning to be found
i feel dark and desolate starving to survive
all this pent up negativity is waiting to burst out
maybe lashing out will lighten the burden i carry
but all day everyday when i humbly thunder
of myself become i a wee bit wary
what have i become and what am i supposed to be
keeps on conflicting inside this fully empty head of mine
i should've lined myself silver as i stopped the heat be
but all i did was become heavy with my wasteful whine
destruction i harbour and damage is what i do
in all the bright shades i myself choose to be in blue
thus i spend my days loitering around
without making a single sound
and only at night do i let myself dwell
residing in the heaven i am nothing but a harbinger of hell