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6.7k · May 2017
Gender Roles.
Just because I’m vulnerable
doesn’t mean I’m weak.
Just because I don’t cry in front of you
doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.
Just because I don’t speak up
doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say.
Just because I don’t react
doesn’t mean I don’t know how to tear you apart.
Just because I smile
doesn’t mean you can walk on me.
Just because I don’t hurt you back
doesn’t mean I lack masculinity.
Just because you say I am fat
doesn’t make me ugly. Not uglier than your soul.
Just because you say I’m feminine
doesn’t make my gender redundant.

I’m more a man than you’ll ever be, choking on your insecurities.
Getting kicks out of putting other people down,
everytime you feel threatened by the vastness of the world.

Just because I don’t stop you
doesn’t mean you can go back to doing what you did.

Just because I am me.
And not the version of me,
You want me to be.
Just because I am me.

And just because
I don’t roar doesn’t mean I’m not strong.
I’m more than capable of ripping you to shreds,
with my weaponry of words.

Just because.
6.2k · May 2016
(Introvert) Rebellion.
3.2k · Jun 2016
Personification of Home.
home is where I hear your footsteps rattling the foot boards,
resonating at the same frequency of my heart's undulating palpitations.
home is where I feel your haunting presence persistently
passing through these crumbled walls of mine.
home is where I see you in the mirror every time I look for me.
home is where you twist, turn and shake up the whole **** house.

home is wherever you are, no matter how far.
2.8k · May 2017
A Metaphor.
Imagine a warehouse of apples with their individual conciousness.
They are labelled and categorised.
They are segregated.
The apples are gathered and put into boxes marked
by what they want to be known by,
their commonality/mentality.
If a bushel of apples are a stigma, they are put into boxes marked by what the other apples tag them by.

In a self-marked box, by the name of “surat zayifa” an apple lays at the juncture of the pyramid of analogous red,
maggots eating away at it’s heart.
The apple turned crimson hued to an evangelist blood maroon. Smouldering; festering like an open wound.
A stinging aura besieged it,
suffocating the air like sharpnel stuck in the throat.
The apple, consumed by a dark resurgence and a devilish resolve,
spoke in tongues of the serpent and supplanted seeds of pestilence in the hearts of the apples who joined his brooding virtue.
A collective conciousness was supplanted among the fruit,
imprinted with the face of death.

The world of apples, thrive on each other and face the forebodings of life together in spite of their marked differences in a state of throbbing dependancy.
The apples feed on the apples.
Another self-marked box, by the name of “khalas” were set to consume the apples from “surat zayifa” to continue finity,
unwary of their poisoned souls.

The apples fed on the apples and almost every other apple rotted and perished.
The apples that survived were the ones who consumed the apples unblemished in spirit.
All the others apples from all the other boxes blamed “surat zayifa” as a whole.
Even the apples purest, were tainted by the sins of the other apples,
the ones to take the blame for the misdeed of their creed.
The box was now marked in disgrace, a vehemence, a scourge.

The last remaining poisoned apple that was set to perish from “khalas” did something morally unhinging before it’s spirit departed;
the apple smeared it’s tan blood with words on the cardboard and dropped dead.

The singular light bulb flickered, the pulse strained.
Everything fell silent.
The words read “ We are ourselves. We **** ourselves.”
This one goes out to those falsely persecuted in the name of religion and to those who give their religion a bad name and to the ones who suffer for the sins of their brothers.
2.5k · May 2017
rainbowvoid.
I am the nightsky, you are the stars that fill my soul.
I am here to stay, my old and new friends who are going to be.
My tight pressed lips,
against Your tangent hips.
Our hands yield
to the symphony of surrender.
Lay your defences down,
Let our hearts pour out.
Scantitly clad souls,
Semi naked hearts,
Ever so vulnerable.

There are things
far more important
than ourselves.
There are things
that we love too much.
that it hurts.
even to let go.
In our midst,
it is each other.

''May I have the final dance under
this perishable moonlight ?''
2.3k · Dec 2015
Decadence.
Carrying your name forward
on a silver stein raft
with the wreckage of me
I long to crave,
mouth agape, eyes watering proof
I long to crave,
my deciduous vulnerability flashed wide upon when you’re there
I long to crave,
your sweet nectar lips dipped in honey;
have a taste of your
white chocolate
lava cake
I long to crave,
to stare into the openness of your porcelaina doll face
I long to crave,
look through the window to your soul through
your nebulaic eyes.
I long to crave,
Suggestively suggestive advice from you to me to you
I long to crave,
My lover dreamer’s dream
I long to crave,
My tinder streak
keeping me warm
I long to crave,
the shoulder to lean on
in my darkest hours
I long to crave,
The person I want to be beside
When I’m at my most beautiful.
I long to crave,
Oh, how I long to crave ?
My undying longing to crave.

You.
2.2k · May 2016
Romaticize.
Tonight,
for a change,
let’s indulge in
deep conversations
with our tongues
and
make love with our minds.
1.9k · Oct 2015
Luna.
Cooking up a blizzard.
Lost and unguided tendrils of space hold me captive,
the trebles of your heart beating
leads me back to my my Home.
That infinite gaze of yours into my dilapidated eyes,
is like a portal to you to look into my soul.
You blanket all my darkness
With your semi-pixie cut.
You’re my tree of knowledge
I bask in it’s shade.
Powdered Sugar coating on cupcakes.
Your silk armour protects your vulnerability,
My sincere apologies to all the arrows that gaped through.
Cover me under your angel wings,
Dab away my streaming reservoirs and replace them
with pollen and sweet nectar.
Your wishbone sacramental daydreams and dreams.
I feel so lost without you.
Bandage my old wounds with your tender hands,
Kiss me with your lush lips
sending jolts of star dust upstream,
within my veins dancing with yours palpitating feet.
My shot of euphoria and bleeding antidote.
My poetry.
You, Kalon.
Let’s raise a toast to your
beauté remarquable éternel, mon soleil
your free spirit,
your beauty of a ghost,
your heart racing with joy,
your heart steaming up with reticent sadness,
build up anger that come crashing down
like a typhoon detaching from the human perspecta.
I miss you.
Your emotional mess and literal mess,
I’m your magic broom.
You, my inspiration.
You, my groove.
You, my you.
You. My everyone and everything.
You’re fun filled supressed omnipresent electric feel.
You, The only Solis in my galaxy.
I love you.
Sharing your grandoise orangy tinge yellow light.
Bottling up a few star
in a bottle of red wine,
For her Luna.
Solis is 21 a (000,000,000) today.
**You’re irreplacable.
Happy birthday my best friend/my lover.
Your fingers dapple the contours of my face,
like layers of a warm blanket
you peel back and
rest beneath my skin.
This sheer vulnerability.
I'm prejudiced to feel unguarded
and I'm afraid.
Not of you, but of love.
Of the things it would do to me.
Of the scars it will leave behind.
God, I'm trembling again...

Your kisses calm the waves
crashing against my skull.
I'm terrified
of love
and the autopsy it would do on me
once I'm lifeless after you've left me.

Still breathing but not alive.
I don't want to be a casualty of love again.
My stitched together brokenness will
surely break this time again under it's heavy toll.

But I'll do it again, for you and for me.
Because I love you. And Us.
I'll set aside the love for me, to love you more.

More than everything,
Because I love *love.
1.7k · Apr 2016
Beautiful Face.
Her changing moods
are just like
the phases of the  *moon.
1.7k · Nov 2015
Keeper.
She caught my dreams
with a net like
a broken winged firefly.

She stored it in
the mason jar
of her heart.
1.5k · Apr 2016
Rebirth.
Salinity is the oar of my lungs,
as I crawl with busted knees and
drag my legs across the bottom of the sea
onto an island of your heart of night.
My pale feet embalmed in your grainy shore
colouring it  maroon.
Your violet light shining through my darkness.

You are my rebirth even after I've died a million times.
Your belongings (be)long to/for the materialist of Earth.
Your memories belong in the cradle of the hands of time.
Your talents belong in the rucksack of circumstance.
Your friends and family are shadows on the pavement
of the path you travelled.
Your lover belongs in the warmth of your heart.
Your bones belong with the typhoon of dust.
Your soul belongs in God's horcrux.
Your moments.
That's all that's ever yours.
Moments.
1.3k · Aug 2015
Excalibur Elixir, You.
With you,
I feel like my brokeness wears a disguised mask,
it doesn’t protrude out like splinters and spears
right through my rib cage where
thorn ladden tendrils grow, with everyone else.

With you,
I feel less broken.
Maybe even whole again.
Like I used to be.
Slit my wrists with a white quill
Let emotionality bleed out,
through the crack in the broken windowsill
where the light
shines through
on the darkest
sans Moon night.
1.3k · May 2017
Rooms of the House.
My heart is a rebellion
of splayed foot soldier
cocked in red and white
marching like fire ants,
with drums wisped around necks
mimicking the heart’s murmur,
like a slogan of supremacy.

My heart is a rebellion
against my mind;
too often forgetting
I house them both.
1.2k · May 2016
A Letter to my Parents.
You cannot blindfold me
and walk me into a room
full of your hopes and dreams
and expect me to
build my life there.
1.2k · May 2015
Opiate.
He/she puts together temporarily,
the broken/disntegrated parts of my plasticine self
with band aids and masking tape.
a gratuitous note to all the people who take the time and care enough to mend the broken hearted/the ones who desperately need some beacon of hope.
1.2k · May 2017
Green.
The poignance of a well lit room
overshadowed by impending doom
the effervescence loom
the smoke screen hues
lyrical debauchery of the cacophony of the bees
the monotony of human bee-ings
the trees sway unrest
the roots melt with soot
the oaks bent their heads
raise a white smoke flag in silent victory,
Where are we lifeless or livid again ?
Are we questioning dreams of ourselves?

These veins **** as a toad hops,
onto the gravel of a broken pavement
from a shallow pool of naked warmth,
somewhere deep hidden under these falls,
a white sleeve of corporate piety;
human mirth of bilious greenery,
crackling like bones,
the froth of jealousy pools
as teary eyes roll over
rapid.eye.movement sleep,
it lurks behind crimson bushes,
eyes glinting like headlights,
glitter fury.

You’re an abomination to every blood-poem
I’ve surmised so far, no matter how far.
Your eyes match the size and shade
of my backyard moon orchards.
A satiable reflection of what we used to be,
In a spectrum of green.
I cease to be.
1.2k · Oct 2015
Lunar Pareidolia.
1.2k · May 2017
Circles and Spheres.
Darling, you were the captor of my heart
and I swear I loved something more than
my freedom for the first time.
1.2k · Dec 2016
Botany 101
1.1k · Mar 2015
Solis.
The moon inexorably needs the sun;
just like i perilously need you.
the remarkable, the not so magnificent,
the parts not everyone can see,
illiberally all of you.

Solis dies every night ,
just to let Luna live.

But my dear,
Our love is not like the ones written
in the depths of the fathomless universe.
The harrowing, unblemished and blackened truth
that silences and ***** the moonlight
out of my insignificant galaxy...
you don't love me the same.
I know I'm not extraordinary enough
to belong in the same canvas blue/black skies as you,
and be your moon.
It is not the end. For neither you or me.

I will move on to new cosmic horizons,
in search of a new sun.
A sun that will reflect the darkest parts of the moon,
and love it all the same.
And you, Solis
will find your momentous and exquisitely portentous  Luna.

But my friend,
You are ever my collosally beautiful and singular Sun.

You're irreplacable.
This is my most personal work. It's about my best friend.
1.1k · May 2016
Everloving.
You are the only star that still burns in my night sky.
Callow birds
shimmering highlights
of lilacs
on it’s busted mantle.
The lamppost tungsten
is a wax doll candle.
Paraffin paragraphs
jotted down on
clouds in paradise.
Throwing a tea party
at the neighbours lewd front lawn.
Resting place of
my weary head.
Wearing
our mountain tops//your shoulder,
my heart’s
hearth and
watershed.
Leave me out in the dark
I'm not your playground of destruction
that you run to during your recess.

chiseling the grass,
sharp as sickles.
thrashing your leather whip
on the dusty ground
with an unerasable frown.

Strangling it around
the rusty bridles
of my broken swingset,
ripping it out from root down
at the twitch of your wrist.
Straddling my worn out see-saw
imbalanced by the wreckage of time
prance around until it
shatters into a million steel slivers,
While your hair brushes the clouds
while you have the first taste of rain
and feel the chill of snowflakes against your skin.

But this playground,
this zealous monument,
was built for
a higher purpose.
It's a place where
streams overflow,
wildflowers grow,
solace to the fireflies afterglow
& poetry readings during
seasons of snow.

If it does not stand for it's purpose,
my trembling hands will flick
a matchstick on the the wick of the trial
to arsonate it's submissiveness
and eat it's dispossessed soul.
It's flames will touch the
cradle of the crescent moon.
And from the ashes

I will rise,
*the Undying Light,
the Untouchable Night.
She painted the void within the chambers of my heart with broken crayons. 
She painted them with the shades of effervescence.
She is white chocolate in the abstraction of snow melting in my mouth.
Her eyes can swallow black holes and I drowned in their infinitude. She saved me, She was my lifeboat.
When i wear her smiley badge, her words resonate inside my skull.
Every waking second of every minute of every hour of the days seemed like an everlasting lifetime with her: Infinity.

She tasted like the sweetest cotton candy dipped in the elixir of the most exquisite bitter fruit.
She was the unrelenting/interminable flame zealously smouldering in the night sky.
She rekindled my dying ember of lingering hope, in the existence of people like her.
Serendipity.
1.0k · May 2016
Rehash Rehab.
Turns out,
of all the things
I’m addicted to,
you’re what
I’m addicted to the most.
You touched my soul and imprinted on my tainted heart,
but I still wonder why you left, without even saying goodbye.

And it often makes me irrevocably disconsolate.
1.0k · Jul 2015
Snowcones in Antarctica.
I said “Shhh….”.

To silence the multitude with familiar faces,
to keep you unscathed/unblemished
from the hollow words
of people who haven’t seen
a glimpse of your everglowing soul.

For you to be you to me.

Pristine.
my eyes.
974 · Apr 2016
Red Paper Roses.
I am a prisoner of love,
lock me away in
the chamber of your heart.
970 · May 2017
Moonset.
It is only after you lay to sleep every night
that the sun sets, in my horizon of being;
I wander, aimlessly, lost, chasing ghosts
and humming sleepless lullabies to the stars
while I, wait for the beautiful sunrise.
970 · Feb 2016
1,000,000 Sunrises.
As your weary frame shudders,
as your bones quiver
at the resounding echo
of the wailing wind blowing
your spirits with the leaves of
an unforgotten winter,
encompassing
the familiar loneliness that
outshines bliss.

And when the days are
overshadowed by your fears
and the shoals of the ocean waves
crushes your soul against
the condescending
cluster of rocks
cloaked with
your hopes
and your dreams.

I will carve my heart out
for you.
I will build a home in
it's place,
to protect you.
And set myself on fire
to keep you warm.
I'll stitch a happy smile
on my face even when
you & I are drenched
in our tears.
967 · Nov 2015
Bark at the moon.
Eventhough you know
every polaroid
picturesque infinity,
and every broken strand of
every melancholic
outpouring memory,
buried deep beaneath
the debris of the moon
and sprinkled with star dust
within my soul.
You can’t seem to understand
the basicity of my humanity.
And how much
you
quietly mean to me.
958 · Jun 2017
fuchsia.
The faux stars in your eyes is but a dreamless paradise.
947 · Jul 2015
Twirl//Our Little Infinity.
Glistening sea ****, eye contact - infinite intensity
Filling the gap in between our fingers, stuck in millenial concordants
Taking photos on your polaroid of ravens and maple leaves
and black and white silhouttes of you.
Not, Clicheing//Different Socks on each foot
Watering Daisies on the pavement where we brushed past each other
Criss crossing parallel rail lines paved across the universe
Lost Stars.
Biting our lips to the blistering cold weather,
gloved* hands stitched together.
Me loving you,
You loving me,
in *naturale.

as of now, as of forever.
I'm the ragged, plain white canvas and
you're the most supercalifragilisticexpialidocious painting.
Somedays you are the butcher.
Somedays you are the lamb.
Somedays you are the yearning.
Somedays you are the ******.
Somedays you are the poison.
Somedays you are the wine.
Somedays I am the hurt
of knowing, you will never be mine.
901 · Jun 2015
Reverie.
(making eye contact with)the sun kissed trees rustling
in the swaying wind
where rabbit holes spiral into oblivion
and high noon tea parties constantly commence
polka dot mushrooms grow in abundance
is not of much relevance
carries the echoes from your restrained heart
through the side walls of caverns of bat caves
and around the eclipse of the moon
turning into darken dust
inhaling the effervescence of you into my being,
which makes me you.
and you and i are us.
I’ll cry a sea of madness
and break down into
raging thunders for
you,
my darling.

But only if the
masts of your ship sails
in the direction of
the gale wind
that leads into
the uproar of
my love.
886 · Feb 2016
Halcyon.
Every time I run
into your everlastinng arms,
it feels like I'm running
Home.
882 · Jun 2016
A True Antagonist.
Real grief is not shared nor uttered.
Real grief is bottled and fermented in it's host.
876 · Nov 2015
You are home.
Our house is burning down.
The flames are lashing and tearing
every(our)thing in it's wake.
From the bottom to the top,
Our daughter's doll house,
our miniature planetarium in our bedroom,
my compilations of writings about you/I/us.

Don't rush for the door, dear.
There's still a chance we can subsidise these
gallowing flames that's trying furiously
to charr our ship in the message in the bottle
and our memories into ephemeral ash.

Stay.
For all the reasons to save what we have,
what we've longed for so long,
what we've built from the pit of our hearts.
So,
Stay.

We'll find our way through the maze
and through every well wishers curses.
We'll fix everything that needs to be tended to
and we'll grow to love each other once again.
**I'm staying.
863 · Jan 2016
Rainbow patched black hole.
Molten phoenix,
Paragliding paralysis,
Ruminating catchphrases.
Anvil *******
Discordant dream concert
Spacebound ocean blue.
The crescent moon and jupiter
in tonight’s hauntingly beautiful, omniscient sky
gives me this fleeting feeling
of a temporary recluse of eternal bliss
from this scattered world that caterwauls from the inside out.
845 · Mar 2016
Polarity of Love.
i) Countless casualties
lost and faded
among
the shipwrecks
of
broken hearts
caused by
indented rocks of love.


ii) The docks seamless
with the horizon
swarmed with infinite
paper sails and boats
resting in the warmth
of the tranquil sunset,
the sunset. The Sunset.
An undertone of *
love.
841 · Jan 2016
Lost.
I feel trapped inside my own lungs.
Like a tribe without a leader.
A wolf without a pack.

I feel lost.
without
you.
You are not my sunshine.
You are my whole sun
In all it’s ****** glory.
825 · Mar 2016
I Am I.
I lost the quintessence
of my rainbow beaded being
along with
the calligraphic indian feather pen.

The blood from my arteries
are replaced with black ink on paper.
The ingenuity of it all.
How much I despise it
the unoriginality ?

Not feeling me in my own words.
I have figured out why
I always want or need somebody,
or be in a relationship
with someone,
and it’s not because
I’m lonely or desperate,
it’s because I’m too fragile
to take on this harsh world alone
and I need someone
to be strong for,
to be strong for me.
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