I want more than this,
I want more than just a kiss,
more than momentary belonging,
more than texting here and there just for your quick fix!

You see I'm tired of succumbing to your needs,
when all I want and need from you is to see beyond my body,
I want to feel protected like packaged candy

I want to wake up next to you breathing,
kiss your lips, let you whisper into my ears, how you missed me while you were busy dreaming.

I guess it doesn't matter because at the end of the day your need is not my want.

It has been almost a month since we slept on the same bed, shared a meal on the same plate, forgotten about the pains and focused on the laughter's instead.

It has been almost a  month now since I felt the touch of your hand, massaged the back of you neck, uttered a word or two to you, how I miss making love to you...

I know these are simple words, but you and I both know that we created a world of our own, which has now fallen into an abyss of storms, lost souls wandering around wondering where did we go wrong?

There are so many words I can use to describe the love on its own, but nothing can compare to the profound experience we went through, the emotions, the thrill of it all.

All I can say is that I still miss you, I sometimes don't know what to do, but cry, weep or fall in a state of numbness, I guess it'll probably take another year or years to get over you.

How can you say we are soulmates,
yet the pain inside my heart is hard for you to comprehend.

I've been going through a long battle with my mind.
You see its so hard to wake up everyday with a visage, when everything seems to be boiling up inside.
I'm filled with so much anger yet I don't know why.
There's so much beauty in life and yet I struggle each day to see  through these clouds weighing down on me.
I feel like I can't breathe yet I'm trying so hard to stop myself from drowning.
These suicidal thoughts have a way of finding its path through these cracked scars in between my soul and heart,
an ongoing battle of self love to self hate.
I have never been this lonely in my life,
yet the very same man whose heart is mine and mine his,
doesn't see beyond this broken being.
I can't do it anymore.

Dear Friend,
Dear brother,
Dear sister,
Dear Mother
Dear Father
Dear son
Dear Daughter
Dear Grandmother
Dear Grandfather
Dear you whose compass has lead to this note,
This is no ordinary letter,
Its a word or two to encourage you.
I may have never danced in your world,
or laid beside you to capture the dreams that are good,
or simply those that brought you hurt.

I may have never gotten the chance to take a glance at this beauty in front of me,
nor crossed paths with your eyes,
which personally I adore the most, how they say so much yet the world knows little of what comes from that beautiful mind of yours.

You see I write this to you because, I love you
and to know that someone you do not know of loves you the way I do, is the best feeling ever, because no one else in the world deserves LOVE more than you do, never ever forget that.

I hope that your hand, your eyes, the words that creep out of your mouth and spreads its wings like butterflies may meet with this simple  poem of mine,
and hopefully you and I can help spread the word of love to someone else as amazing as you are to me,
To inspire and heal a broken heart,
To bring about a sense of warmth within the hearts
because nothing matters to me than seeing you simply happy,
so smile, take joy in life,
there's nothing more profound than the breath of a new morning. Its a way of telling you that you deserve to be alive, that there is purpose in your life.

I am my mothers eyes,
brown, soft, loving and kind.
With a thousand stories to tell, she would lay me down in my cocoon, when I was young and little, look up with those bold eyes, "God are you listening?" she would ask, then a stretch of a smile would brush the sadness in  her eyes.
Why does God lie?
Why can't he/she be honest sometimes?
These are questions I always ask myself when I'm in deep contemplation about life.
I cry sometimes you know, when she lies in bed helplessly, knowing that someday, she'll lie there, still in peace, there'll be no more breath in her lungs.
Yesterday I cried again,
Feeding the pain inflicting me,
She texted me back "I'm doing okay, don't worry about me okay?"
How can I stop worrying?
when its all I can do,
hold my phone to my hand in stagnation,
so grateful that the one technological piece in my hand, is as close as I can get to you mom.
I know what I did was wrong,
moving out especially at a time you needed me the most.
I left you with pain and suffering,
and now I cant undo it because its made its way to your stomach, its killing your insides,
and all I can do is blame myself.
They say you'll never understand someones pain until you step into their shoes.
I wish I could do that. I wish I could step into your shoes and heal this disease that's trying to take you away from me.
God please if you're reading this, take your time to please return the promise you gave to me, the one you told me when I allowed you into my life, when I said I'm all yours and you mine.
Please don't take my mother away from me.
Not yet,
not until I've given her the best life she deserves

I remember taking a shower in front of him, the water drizzling down my body all the way to my ******, while he stared at me.
He liked what he saw, because maybe he didn't expect me to get undress in front of him, to be so completely comfortable in front of a stranger I knew nothing of.
I was in my own world, where I owned this hurt, of fights of  dying loving and passion for a lover I'd left back home.
He would call me and hear the anger steaming from my voice, yet not once did he bother to question it, out of fear of the unknown, out of fear that maybe I'd decided I was fed up and wanted to leave him and quit what we both called love.

So here I was in front of a man, who was clothed yet I naked.
After my long shower, I led him to a room which I took power of, and gently kissed him on the lips, without thinking about anything, even though all I could think of was, "What are you doing?"

People always think that cheating is wrong, that its not worth it, and that you'll never meet Mr/Mrs right if you leave your legs loosely open for men or women to feast at.
But they never tell you of what you go through to get to that point in your life,
Its where the cheating stems from, its where the hurt grows, its the root of all pain and suffering knowing that you have to live with this lie when you go back home to him, to a man you once'd urged to be with, craved every undying moment with him...Now you hate yourself so much, and you hate him too for not trying to put up a fight for you two. So I'm sorry my love. I'm sorry I lied to you.

I remember her,
shouting at me when I was a little younger.
I've out grown those days of being made to think that I am lesser than a man, or playing with boys would turn me into an lesbian whose only revenge of never having kids would be based on the fact that she, my mother Christine stuurman, lessoned herself.
with fistful of hurtful words from him,
with bruises she still loved him,
with kindness she let him in,
into our lives,
Shed her bed with them
living the same old lie,
men after men,
as if they were orbiting around her like the sun and star

What about me?
Why didn't I change she still asks today?
I did,
I changed every perception of men,
I changed how I treated them,
like dirt in sewage pipes they were to me,
I trampled on their egos, hating their existence and not understanding why my mom lowered herself so much for men. I wish she had opened her eyes, loved less and love herself more.
but life opened my eyes too, all I wished for her was to find a man so loving and understanding as the one I've found.

Dear sister,
I miss the times we would run wildly in the forbidden woods,
the trees would cast shadows of shields protecting us from imaginary monsters hiding ***** traps to trap us.
There was a glow about you that always stood out to me. You were happy, young and free,
(WE were happy, young and free!)

The last time I saw you was a year ago,
I noticed that even with you aging so beautifully well, the youth that once shone within you has started fading,
like a tree thats changing when entering a new season.
You've distance yourself from the memory of us.
You've decided to block the hurt that separated the bond that we once held.
Its like a forgot wound, so dormant yet growing like an invasive cancer, It reeks of pain, It reeks of burnt dreams, It reeks of a time we grew older and forgot those two innocent kids running freely in the woods.

There were four bodies, walking in one line towards me.
It was a bridge, a dark bridge inviting fear to overtake me.
I was on my phone...What was I thinking being on the phone
whilst walking alone?

They first walked towards me with innocence and poverty written in their eyes,
there were lies waiting, perhaps hoping I could give them what they wanted.
Like the idiot I was I allowed them to corner me,
they cornered me like shadows leaving no space for light.

I held on tightly of the strength and bravery left in me,
my phone being ripped out of my hands,
my bag,
my neck being choked,
being held down by the weight of four men,
who simply wanted help yet turned their rejection to hate, hurt, inflictors of fear,
They gripped my hair,
There was no air left in me to breath,
My precious body ****** in shock,
I felt lost,
I felt blocked,
I lost my confidence,
then fought back with each and every vocal in me, I screamed and screamed and screamed even if it killed me, even if they killed me, at least I would have died with my bravery intact in me.

You ask me to remove my scars as you stare at me,
The outlines of my body exposed to your eyes...
You are not the one I wanted to see me for me,
And yet you can feel it, the anger residing within me like a volcano waiting,
To explode.
You know me and now there is nowhere to run to or go…
You carry on exploiting me with your eyes, your body language changing,
As if you were a sculpture, you hate me and I can see it,
It’s written on the tips of your tongue,
The words won’t come out,
My mind is boggled up and I can’t even explain why.
The rooms fill up with silence, casting shadows from wall to wall,
The echoes of our breathing is all that we can hear, like children we childishly turn our heads the other way,
You grab your bag for work, and I grab mine too.
I close my eyes and open the door of our house.
We smile and the world seems like we’ve finally reached the light at the end of the tunnel.
The mask has taken its place.

My pen is like a resounding cymbal;
its loud noise ringing fills the atmosphere in my head.
The words become like waterfalls,
pouring in and out of my mind when I think of the compelling beauty of life, or simply the admiration of stars gazing at each other as their silhouette of light woes mankind to sleep at night and my blood stream inevitably filled with poetry, I become a night owl.… The letters begin making up an impregnation of words…
They grow tremendously in my mind as if one were to start a huge fire, I’m at it again,
a spark erupts,
quickening impulse,
quickening in thoughts of the life before and after me,
the life of others,
the joy and pain of living,
those whose last breaths have left legacy on earth and those unknown yet close to home.
The seasons, the months, play in my head.
The pen doesn’t hesitate,
it never does.
It speaks from the roots and stems of the heart.
At the end of the day all that matters is the God-given life of writing and most importantly,
the words that matter to you and me.

I wish you could
stare at me drawing you in my mind,
talk about artistry,
you're a beautiful vision of ecstasy,
making my teeth clench,
as body weakens in your presence freezing every word that should have come out,
flowing,
like a river,
my imagination would have run wild,
worshiping you like a knight who rescues me every night in my dreams, you oblivious to my future love.

I am like a halo on your head,
glorifying your every step of the way,
as if you were dipped in honey,
sweetness in disguise,
smothered in gold,
rich in your lies,
but then again here I am holding you up,
as you milk every inside of me,
because you know I'm easy to give in,
and easy to let things go.

Sitting,
patiently,
obviously,
withering without seeing the great I AM in me.
the great things I could do if I were loving enough of myself too!

She is
Queen of Queens
She is beauty
She is the sun rays raising hair on my skin,
she is honey
sweet,
smooth,
gently melting away wounds from my feet,
to my broken wings
she makes me want to reach for that star.
she represents every womans smile
She is Queen Africa
Whom I'm proud to call my mother!

They wanted so much for her.

To  be clever,
to be intelligent,
to be a millionaire and support them as repayment for looking after her,
after all that's how the "parenting chain" goes right?
they wanted her to grow up and be something of herself and get married.

They hated disappointments

But what did the term mean to them?
what did it mean to her?
to never fall in love with someone outside their expectations?
culture, religion, society,?
who were they to stop her?
who was she to stop them?
after all she was raised by them!


Maybe its because they were once failures.
who longed for their underachieved dreams to reside within her,
so that they could say that they finally did it.
how can life be so selfish,
everyone taking yet no thinking,
about the feeling of their loved one who their draining?

across the room,
I walked out of my living room door.
eyes concentrated,
drawn on the floors of my covered toes,
to the roof of my Afro.

Men stared at me with raw impure thoughts,
racing through their brains,
it was moment of galore for them,
that such exposure could have such an effect on their oblivious groins.

The clicking of my heels,
clicked on,
what could a woman do but walk on and remember that,
another like me, will soon again make him, him or even him,
turn heads
all simply because his just  being a man.

I love you
I have always loved you for the ways in which you are stubborn, yet free
the way how your face lights up and eyes squint when no one is watching except me, myself and I,
YES!
you are admirable,
difficult at times,
but beautiful
in the way you love me for me,
I never thought anyone could tolerate me like the way you do,
my terrible need to provoke people,
to see if their love for me was as real as their spoken ''truths''.
but you,
my friend,
my sister from another  mother, you have tolerated me thus far,
tried to guide me into giving up this hard shell I keep between yours and my heart,
but I've failed you now,
gone beyond breaking you at times,
I've become way too blind to notice these actions of mine towards you,
all because the mind took over the heart,
the heart became silent,
perhaps too stagnant to speak its own mind.
or maybe this is what I'll away be to you,
another last page in your book,
a book you tried turning the pages over and over again,
in hopes the story would move from situations to bright places,
but have come to conclusions that it'll never happen,
the inevitable does however remain
but no matter what happened between me and you,
I will always love you,
and wait.

These ******* fed you when you were still an innocent babe,
Between these legs of mine I cried and from beauty there was pain.
and yet you man whose media/society hyprocracy has become your GOD,
making you look down,
turn heads in shame,
on women who breast feed in public
why?

These golden opportunities given to you and I,
slowly slipping out of your hands not only because if you wanted it you could do anything just to get your hands on it,
but because you're defined by this so called hierarchy, 50 shades of skin tones, size, weight and body,
but if you don't fit into that category your nothing
you simply amount to nothing.
why?

You
Me
Us
brother,
sister,
mother,
father,
any figure.

when will you wake up from this superficial cloud we are all living?
breathing in the lies of how we should be living...
could this truly be what if means to be happy?

ode to the brave who still remain the same,
and will not allow anyone to try and change them because you are rare in this cruel world,
and your change is yet to come.

I wish there were no eyes to see
No tongue to taste
No air to breath
No feet to walk
No heart to feel
No mouth to talk
No hands to touch
No mind to think
No thoughts
Nothing
Not a single existence of this view in the mirror  before me.

For I've learnt that at the end of the day no matter how many times you try to be you
No matter how many times you try to be the fixer of all things
Life chews you up and throws you away on the grounds you were born from and your existence eventually means nothing to anyone.

Not a single one
So what's the point?
Why don't I just die
I've planned to commit suicide several times
But the timing doesn't seem right
Will it ever be?
My impregnated thoughts are slowly  killing me as they build up an army inside my mind, injecting their pictures into my blood stream stabbing words straight to my heart.
I want it all to disappear
Not now though
I need it to be the right time
I've still got hope
That maybe its part of life
But each day is killing me
All I want to do is sleep
I crave love yet I can't seem to find it
For wherever I do seems like no one can handle me or give like I give.
Perhaps I should go
I need to be alone
I need to die
I've come to a point that this life has no meaning
I have no meaning
I hate myself for being like this
I hate happy people with happy lives and happy dreams
How could I ever have their thinking
Their believes that there is something worth living for
My life feels poor
I can hear the exit door calling me
I need to stop these tears  from having a galore
I need to go.

I'm sorry if I leave the world broken and bruised as it still is
I'm sorry of I couldn't make a difference
I'm sorry if I hurt those that care about me
I'm sorry if I haven't given my enemies the chance to get back at me
I'm sorry for not following your purpose Lord
I guess you had so much plans for me and I slapped you in the face with death beneath your feet
Forgive me please

Hell is waiting
For the day I leave these grounds
It may be today or any other day
But I'm tired
The verge of giving up has become an understatement
Maybe I'm going crazy
But how can I not be when my heart carries on paining  each morning I awake.
It's suffocating me and one day I will make It all disappear I promise you my friend.
No sight of me shall reach your eyes
No taste shall come unto my tongue
No air shall I breath
No feet of mine shall walk unto your path
No heart shall you feel
Not a single word from my mouth shall you hear
No caring hands shall reach out to touch yours
No thoughts shall you ever read  from my lips
Nothing
Not a single view from this mirror shall ever ceize to exist.

Is it wrong to miss you this much?

Your eyes sinking deep into mine as hands touched bodies you straddled my mind with your illuminating being
By breathing life to a heart that once lacked oxygen,
Yes you filled me up so much yet left me not half full but empty inside.
I hanged onto my life support whom I called God even though my asthmatic attacks were catching up with me as I slept I tried losing myself in dreams,
I started wheezing inside out and the tears fell down like a waterfalls down oblivious cheeks which once glowed with the kiss of your lips because by then you meant something to me and I was falling in love too quickly to see what I was going to end up losing...which was you.

So is it wrong to miss you my love?
For love was there from the beginning via the inner parts of our hearts,
Beneath blankets that laid two naked lovers with hope residing within body soul and mind to be or perhaps grow together and be one I thought to myself.

But look at you now
Look at me now
I'm slowly caving into my four bedroom walls that once again laugh and mock at my chances of finding love.

Where are you ?
Are you hiding yourself in dark corners to punish my mind as to why you requited the favour of love by stabing my heart.
So

Is it wrong to miss u now?
To want you to wrap your arms around my cold waist for you to warm it up?
To pleasure my desires of hearing your irresistible voice as you speak about your ambitions in life and how a part of you sees me in it too?

To kiss you and do it again freely freeing myself into our world that once existed?

To perhaps have a moment whereby I chose you only and not God just so I can worship you and Praise you like a king and love you with all of my being.
Just to have you once again in my arms or lay on your chest to hear your heart beating away and smiling to myself that out of Anyone you chose me and I chose the best.

I wish there were no eyes to see
No tongue to taste
No air to breath
No feet to walk
No heart to feel
No mouth to talk
No hands to touch
No mind to think
No thoughts
Nothing
Not a single existence of this view in the mirror  before me.

For I've learnt that at the end of the day no matter how many times you try to be you
No matter how many times you try to be the fixer of all things
Life chews you up and throws you away on the grounds you were born from and your existence eventually means nothing to anyone.

Not a single one
So what's the point?
Why don't I just die
I've planned to commit suicide several times
But the timing doesn't seem right
Will it ever be?
My impregnated thoughts are slowly  killing me as they build up an army inside my mind, injecting their pictures into my blood stream stabbing words straight to my heart.
I want it all to disappear
Not now though
I need it to be the right time
I've still got hope
That maybe its part of life
But each day is killing me
All I want to do is sleep
I crave love yet I can't seem to find it
For wherever I do seems like no one can handle me or give like I give.
Perhaps I should go
I need to be alone
I need to die
I've come to a point that this life has no meaning
I have no meaning
I hate myself for being like this
I hate happy people with happy lives and happy dreams
How could I ever have their thinking
Their believes that there is something worth living for
My life feels poor
I can hear the exit door calling me
I need to stop these tears  from having a galore
I need to go.

I'm sorry if I leave the world broken and bruised as it still is
I'm sorry of I couldn't make a difference
I'm sorry if I hurt those that care about me
I'm sorry if I haven't given my enemies the chance to get back at me
I'm sorry for not following your purpose Lord
I guess you had so much plans for me and I slapped you in the face with death beneath your feet
Forgive me please

Hell is waiting
For the day I leave these grounds
It may be today or any other day
But I'm tired
The verge of giving up has become an understatement
Maybe I'm going crazy
But how can I be when my heart carries on paining  each morning I awake.
It's suffocating me and one day I will make It all disappear I promise you my friend.
No sight of me shall reach your eyes
No taste shall come unto my tongue
No air shall I breath
No feet of mine shhall walk unto your path
No heart shall you hear or feel
Not a single word from my mouth shall you hear
No caring hands shall reach out
No thoughts shall you ever read  from my lips
Nothing
Not a single view from this mirror shall ever ceize to exist.

I remember winter days, the storms roared and the oblivious rain fell away, drifting into nothingness.
My tears still remained on my cheeks as if they were making a place to stay for them. They seemed to drain every part and place which once contained happiness.

How did I come to know a place of emptiness could exist?
That such could take many of a man's breath away, even lead man's life to his death?

And yet you were still there with me,
Your bread of life laid next to my bedside awaiting in excitement for me to hear its call.
The seasons went and wept and so did I.
I was on the verge of giving up, for my heart was at the end of a cliff and all I needed to do was jump and maybe all emptiness would perhaps eradicate or disappear like I was about too then.

You reached out a hand oh Lord,
So gentle yet inseparable and you told me that many season's may change my child, but I am here and

will always be here you said.
You wiped away my never ending tears.
Like a seed you planted yourself into my heart,
The reflection of a smile grew for miles and miles.

Who knew that love like this could exist,
To quench men's thirst to say "through him I shall live"
And through you majesty I did.

I like my my french lover and his french like ways,
the way he sings in foreign accent,
the way makes me feel gay:)

I feel like a rolling stone,
rolling until it reaches the edge of a cliff,
even though I'm so close to falling into the arms of my dreams and opportunities,
gravity always tries to find a way  to stop me.

I remember the first time we met.
That was the first time you and I touched each other,
more like in a friendly manner,
when you shook my hand and I shook yours too.
You smiled,
and so did I,
and we both went separate ways to our homes,
where in my house I tried to feel the warmth of your hand in mine,
I began to touch my cheeks pretending it was you brushing your warm hands against them.

There's this vital importance of touch that we sometimes as being don't notice well,
but those who do,
can tell you that it brings both lovers closer to each other especially once both hearts have melted together like super glue.
there'also that mystery of touch when it comes to intimacy,
especially between me and him.
its both a wonderful and beautiful experience,
to please the one you love both in soul, heart and body.

Your Hand
Touching Mine.
This is how
Galaxies
Collide.

My name is Queen Stuurman.
Not Queen Elizabeth,
or Queen Latifah,
but simply just Queen.

I am a unique being born and raised in the roots of Africa,
my culture and roots are proof of where I'm from,
I'm not made in China.
I AM PROUDLY AFRICAN!!
A representation of my country,
its war cry resides within me,
my rainbow nation skin colour,
the many stories about my beautiful country I have yet to tell in my head.

So next time you see me,
call me Queen Stuurman
that's my Afrikaans and isiXhosa surname,
made and bred in Africa,
I am the African Queen.

I am like smoke and ashes that disperse and wither away,
slowly disintegrating into non existence,
talk about extinction,
that's whats my body is slowly turning into,
the shape of my internal bones have started protruding to the surface that I'm scared I might eventually turn into a scarecrow.

I actually enjoy starving my body,
talk about being selfish,
the sound of my stomach grumbling has simply become silence to my ears,
not the way it used to irritate me,
begging, begging and begging to be fed.

I saw claws that dug deep into my skin more like my soul,
they would't let go,
I tried to look up and I saw horns with thorns.
Every time they drew near to my face,
they pierced my flesh and blood dripped like a heavy rain.
This mysterious monster, fiend,
made a terrible screech which should me endlessly,
I could feel myself vibrating,
fear had gotten a hold on me,
its almost like I could hear myself screaming,
but know one could hear me,
eventually I woke up to realize it was only just a dream!

you have eyes and so do I,
you and I have ears that hear,
a mouth that talks,
internal organs structured the same way as mine,
and feet that walk,
its this beautiful simplicity that makes us human and connects each other,
sister or brother, friend or even lover,
yet why do we make color the issue that "separates each other?"

times need to change where we have to look beyond colour,
stop this invasive xenophobia from hurting each other,
placing so called colors in boxes just to feel superior than the other.
we are created the same way,
yet society forgets to place that in there minds each day,
instead the corrupted media injects these theories,
ideologies into our heads,
that makes us behave in a way that brings upon hatred towards one another,
brother to brother hating each other,
wars created just because of this simple man-made word COLOR!
Someday it will soon change,
when the world caves in and we step away from the segregation,
separation due to race,
even though some of us don't want to admit it,
its still there,
the racism,
the stereotype because of race hasn't faded away,
and once we break away from it,
everyone can live in a safe environment just like any other day.

restless nights leave her staring at the ceiling wishing it was the sky of dreams,
she could have redone.

pain stabs her like oblivious swords as the involuntary tears drain her body,
drain her soul,
reflections playing out within a thousand crowds of friends of family that will always fail to see the suffering shes feeling inside and out,
whilst they judge her,
she fails to justify herself,
why justify yourself if you know they'll always feel sorry for the girl next door,
the girl who will never achieve more or live to see gold at the end of a rainbow.

I can hear her singing in the bathroom through our the echoing walls,
the sound of her voice invites me to listen closely to her call,
its melody sung bursts through her vocals chords,
but in a sweet kinda way,
like honey slowly dripping from honey combs,
as a swarm of honey bees swarm around it like a God,
they worship this beautiful simplicity,
like I am doing.

like a child I am mystified by her sounds,
so many different chords sung in such little space,
little time,
they take over me,
fill a void within me,
who knew that such a beauty without knowing could arouse someone else on the other side of the room.

she compels me not only by her beautiful curves,
nor that smile that always wipes away the grey clouds, raindrops that fill my impregnated mind,
but by the compelling sound of her voice,
which the secret I keep to myself alone,
for now like a child I shall remain innocently mystified   by this beautiful damsel that resides within my heart.

I remember that night,
when you stutted whilst tryna introduce me as your girlfriend to your parents,
I guess you were nervous more than I was,
nervous that I'd be upset by you finally giving a label to what was happening between the two of us,
but,
I smiled to myself,
trying to hide the pleasant feeling I was feeling inside.

The best part of that night,
was when we shared our first deep kiss,
perhaps I wanted us to do more than just kiss,
perhaps I wanted to unveil our ****** feelings for each other,
I wanted to touch you so badly,
my groins ached for you to caress my body at that moment,

I'm living in a cocoon of pain,
I have been engulfed by so much hurt that there is no space in my heart,
for love, joy, and happiness to reign.
I'm scared you see,
but I've chosen to live this way,
to accept the fact that somethings in life can never be changed.
So this is how I face each day,
breathing more air of pain,
allowing oblivious tears to flow freely,
in hopes that someday all will disintegrate away.

I was standing next to him,
staring deep into his eyes,
it almost made me blind,
to change my mind,
of how my heart,
truly felt about him,
it almost made me want to realize,
epitomize that maybe he was the "one",
not the same as the other guy,
whose words were antagonist,
in disguised,
an oxymoron of  half truths and half lies,
it actually hurts to write this poem
put it words I wish were my own,
but in honest truth its better to hide them at home,
because if I had to describe them to you,
you wouldn't understand the feeling inside.

Your the illusionist,
That's left me drowning in a pool of illusions,
confusion,
Typical confuisions,
Instilled in my head by you,
Broken,
Its left me breaking,
There's no faking this feeling,
That's killing me,
Death is such a beauty,
Its one way to end pain,
Tear drops blending with the rain,
I have no choice,
But to face the love game,
No one can refrain from this game,
Because once you start you can't go back,
You start all over again,
To face the cycle of the game,
More illusions,
Disillusion,
And your heart breaks again and again.

Stop listening to perfume scented lies,
that leave you empty Inside,
for his tongue only utters words,
that allow your leg to slowly open,
forgetting,
that your heart is left with scars,
so just stop,
listening to perfume scented lies.....

there's always a battle between ones self and spiritual self.

I could cut down a whole tree,
to write on paper of how much you mean you to me,
but either way you will never get the chance to see
the thousand words written for you from me.

Sadness lies in the sight of their morose faces,
by the wrinkles around their eyes.
The frowns on their foreheads tell a story of a broken heart.
The emphasis is placed on their upside down wrinkly lines,
they carry with them around their mouths.
They've lacked the energy to smile,
for a very long time.
These are weeping men,
who are young,
yet,
their escalating pain has aged them in time.
It's as if they await for death to arrive any day,
the way they stare at the sky,
and wait,
and wait,
and wait for death to come.
They've lost the will to dream,
for all their dreams have ceased.
They've tried so many times to adopt another mans life,
put on a visage in hope to find happiness and true love,
and in their failure to accomplish their goals of finding love,
you can tell
they've given up ,
by the way they carry themselves,
with their unused smiles and broken hearts,
The weeping men cry
and cry,
and cry,
till death do them part.

ignoring me was the biggest mistake you ever made.

we met 5 years ago,
in a town close to home.
we got along so well,
like mirrors,
we reflected each other ,
call it the perks of being two lovers,
who knew each other well and better.
we really had it going for us,
the love shared between us was a beautiful painting of art,
and we the artists of our hearts,
painting beautiful memories that will always be on replay at the back of my mind, where my pillows keeps the secrets of the dreams that mean the most to me,
the meaningful dreams of I and him.

Was there ever such a word so beautiful yet cruel called love?
one wonders who came up with this hurtful word?

I'm left to pick up the pieces of my broken heart,
one by one,
to start again,
is the hardest thing to ever do,
to know that someone else lips you kiss are no longer his,
the bed you shared with him,
has someone else lying on it,
and you have to force yourself,
to repeat the words you don't mean to someone else,
when deep down you wish it was him you were repeating those words too.

your presence is beautiful yet cruel.
the beauty of your presence makes the simplest of things shared between us mean so much  more to me,
but ,
nowadays i prefer you not to show your face because  everytime you do,
the cruelty of your presence shadows every light in the room,
including my heart,
and yet you carry on asking me foolishly why are there tear stains on my cheeks once I come back from the bathroom.

she is a winner and i a loser,
she has won a trophy and i have gained a broken heart.

She was a beautiful woman.
A beautiful, courageous woman.
A beautiful, courageous, wrinkly woman.
A beautiful, courageous, wrinkly, happy woman.
A beautiful, courageous, wrinkly, happy, graceful woman.
A beautiful, courageous, wrinkly, happy, graceful, God-loving woman.

we may not be the most obvious expressionists,
for we keep our special pen and papers,
folders,
diaries hidden from the world,
and once we enter our secret world,
that's when we fully open up to our paper,
and the  pen becomes a reflection of our hearts,
the thoughts impregnating our minds,
falls like waterfalls onto our paper,
our pen becomes a existing object in our lives,
we create him as our best friend,
lover,
as he writes down all our desires,
secrets,
feelings we hide in our hearts, to afraid to tell anyone what goes on in our head.

I wish I was a star,
shining bright on everyone,
just like all other stars shine,
away from the hurt and cruelties of this world.
Its amazing how a little rock that shines on each and everyone of us can mean so much to someone,
give them hope that someday everything will be alright,
the star within them will shine so bright across the world,
that each and everyone bleeding heart,
tears cried,
loneliness,
pain,
fear inflicted in  our hearts and minds will diminish,
and wither away because of one star that made someone out there smile,
laugh,
break into tears of joy,
always sleeping in a happy home,
and all pain replaced with dancing in the rain because that one person is filled with so much happiness that they can't contain but share it with the rain.