I'll be honest.
It isn't because my mother can't commit
I'm not dependent on her idiosyncrasies or her
BeatenKickedMurderedWays

It isn't that my future is too bright
To be shaded by love
Or poetry OrartOrmusicoranythingatall

It isn't the way our hearts just don't beat in time

It isn't you. It isn't me.

It's been two years, and it's still her.

She's still in every sip of the coffee I'm too cowardly to drink and sh
E's in the words I conjure up when I try to be romantic b
Ut I'm all out of wor
Ds to use beca
Use I used them all on her lips

I can't help it. She makes appearances in shopping mall windows and in the steam from my skin melting showers. You want a forever, well so do I

But mine was stolen from me and god I wish I had purple sheets.

Do I need to explain?
Would anyone be keen to hear?
Nothing would change
everyone holds their own interest more dear

and time the restless sentinel
speeds its way on its incessant round
each life is a microcosm in struggle
hidden in some little corner from where hardly is heard a sound.

Georgia cities feeding off the interstate artery
Engorged , soulless urban ticks lacking credible -
reason and justification for their ever expanding existence
Does the state need another QuikTrip
A Home Depot every 15 miles
Another Walmart small town ******

I have this hunger
Devouring me whole
I punctured all your holes
And they turned into moles
Which you might find ugly but I think they're beautiful
What you don't know is
That my hunger drives only for you

Somewhere between
Life and death
In the borderland
Of an awake and a sleep
You strive very hard
To come back to nonage,
Somewhere on the timeline
Of creative visions and dreams
In your inner streets of "Drohobych"
In the search for lost indentity-
You fight with crocodiles
Waiting for the "cinnamon shops",
When you try to catch values
In all crying corners.
But they run away like mirror images,
When you travel by tram
Wthout a front wall
And you look for the colors
in this colorless reality...
But somewhere beyond self-mythology
You still await for a train...
And nobody knows of
Its true timetable...

I woke up last night dead,
Demonic voices echo in my head
And all of them clearly said
'Tell her you like her',
'Maybe it'll surprise her'
'Maybe she'll call you a liar',
And I'm thinking I'm just a nervous guy
Each word escape my mouth stinks of shy
And will a false bravado makes my words, lies?

I like her
And I guess I'll show her that I care about her
Well because I do care about her
But she spoke of a certain world
And I was too scared to doubt her
So my thoughts and feelings became a storm
And a resultant of lightning as clouds stir
I broke branches of certainty.

she gave her lips
playing with it
in the name of kiss
………….
like a child
she wanted to go
as if,
today home work
got finished..

you grow to be this stranger
your reflection is no longer you
it's what others say that is you
your reflection is nothing but judgments
you become this walking opinion
filled with emptiness
your a balloon and all you want to do is explode out of your body
run away from not only this nonsensical earth but you wanna run away from yourself
your thoughts haunt your head
and you become comfortable with these feelings that it almost becomes frightening , you live your life a controlled zombie and no one understands and no one will ever understand
you don't even understand
you are a stranger to yourself