You came up behind me, wrapped your arms around my neck and covered my eyes with your hands. "Guess who?" you asked,  how silly, I thought, it was to think I wouldn't know you by the feeling of your heartbeat against my back.

Who is she? I do not know.
Inhuman. She tangles my mind like no other.
One look, she glances over your soul  
With her pale hues and feline eyes,
I  have been baffled with her tight grasp.

Celestial. Confusing. Crafty. Cold.
That she is,
She has casted a spell on me,
That can only be broken by her.
Who is she?

Puzzled. I have been,
A witch? Could it be?
Her voice is melodiously venomous,
I have been mesmerized,
She has clung to my soul.

A distinguished walk,
The childlike enthusiasm,
An enigmatic character,
Her signals are vague,
She is full of anonymity.

Marked with beauty, a mask hides her personality
The possessor of the key to my heart,
She is a mystery.

Life will drag you along even when you're standing still
A ghost writer told me to take one step and watch
Not life but the waves of the living take you and carry you as your next step
Be cautious of your actions for I have seen it all
Love turn to chaos and turmoil build up within the gentlest of creatures
I am the evil that can be within
But with the life givin and strength provided I give your to wake remember this
The truth is life will go on without you but will you go on without it?

Have you ever been
to the otherside?

I think I have.. perhaps once or maybe twice.

How is one to know what the otherside is?
I think one finds out when one gets there.

I often think about death. A lot people scared about death. but a few of people trying and wishing to die. I wonder how it feels like to die, is that good? or is it the best escape from all of this life?
but I thought death won't realize anything. I live in death, it's not good. it's *****. alone. small. invisible. and you were nothing but a small memories. no love. no glory. no victory. you were still alone, and no one listen to you.
so I guess death doesn't release you from anything. and death doesn't mean your heart have to stop beating. we life to fight ourselves and the whole world, and when we lose, there's always a way to come back to life.

Death has been waiting long
Death has been patient
But now Death has come

Chaotic material twisting around brain cells
Body aching for a sense of vacancy.
Dimming the lights to brighten perception
Affections dismissed, craving nothing but darkness.
I see better with the blinds closed.
I feel better when there’s nothing left.
Undressed, suppressed, a shattering mess of dust
And debris
Collecting behind strained eyes
Making patterns that don’t make any sense.
Grab hold on to secure structures
Lightly
They crumble with the weight they collect.
Injecting affliction directly in my veins
Moderately conscious,
Moderately oblivious.
SCREAMING emphatically
For an ounce of rain.
Screaming to release this dirt
This disease
Crawling across this race we feed
It’s stale. We are deserted.
Incarcerated in our own complications
The freedom we seek is not
From above
The dove is also infected
I’m tempted to carve their shadows
Right out of the skyline.