sometimes the stars are the only beauty you need,
somebody’s arms the only reason to breath,
though joyful and finite
like a homeless man’s mead,
simplistic ideals are a lover bug’s ****.
drunken and lonely, a beggar’s voice sings,
“life is not worth it if souls have no seeds”.

You’ve seen my eyes naked
and my lips sore,
I swear nobody else had seen that before.
You’d held my crooked self between your loving arms,
before this reality had done you any harm.
You knew I was drunk with pity and pain,
but nihilism is every wise man’s *******.
Forget all the human you’ve seen on my face,
remember the mud running through my veins.

you drove me off a cliff
no wonder I can’t hear you,
now luckily for me
your bullshitting is see-through.

so much destruction that can take you places,
so many idiots lying to our faces.
the truth of the wicked,
the truth of the dead,
the truth of the children that live in your head.
war and division,
based solely on fear,
have hate and collisions
sharpening their spears.
no idols stripped naked
can protect a strong mind,
no rules when dissected
maintain their first rind.

she existed in a different dimension.
too sweet, too tender for this reality.
her blurred out image kept sliding in and out of existence so many times we got used to her instability.
i kept telling myself that it was normal, that dissolving into affection's oblivion was only natural
but it wasn't.
she doesn't exist,
she never did.
her eyes widened as if to show me the panic behind them, but i knew
i always knew.
i smiled, tears burning down my cheeks, and said
"it's ok. you exist. just not here"
and she faded
dying.

let us find purpose
in the bottom of coffee mugs,
in the feeling after a hug,
in the slow dance of lightning bugs.
we’ll find peace
in the midst of most sunny days,
in the right path inside a maze,
in the gleam of a lover’s gaze.

don’t despair when a lonely night,
full of questions left in the dark
makes you question if there’ll be light.
cause the sun we’ll forever rise,
doesn’t matter what ***** lies,
your reflection will tell your eyes.

maybe I've been so lost
that I no longer have a home.
if this is my new sanity
i might as well go mad all the way.
better die in pain
than live a lie.
shoot me already,
I'm not built for battle.
I'm just trying to be.

I needed you I guess.
I needed the touch of your soul to warm my lonely hands.
I needed your insanely simplistic sanity to the insanity of my lucidity awake.
I needed you.
But I need you no longer.
So leave if you will,
I can finish ending myself on my own now.
But thank you.

You think I’m selfish right?
I hate myself but I will break your hands if they’re the ones holding my shackles.
I’m not afraid of leaving myself if I’m the one doing it.
I’m helping you build my own scaffold because I don’t want you to see that my wrists are already bleeding.
I’m dead, mom.
But I’d rather lose you than watch you lose me.
So yes, I am selfish.

How many sunshines have you seen today?
Enough for your eyes to’ve memorized the patterns of the golden strands of light as they drift away?
Away?
Why? Why away?
Do they seem to float when they’re drowning and burn when they’re standing? Cause let me tell you that if that’s the case, if flowers seem to grow underneath their gaze, let me tell you that those strands of sunshine are probably just bits of snow,
frozen crystals with a pearly glow that unlike the sun, will burn your retinas and your iris’ coal.
I’m sorry to be the one to tell you but if you think you’ve seen more than one sunshine today,
if you think you’ve only seen flower petals as they fall on the ground and lay,
I’m sorry to tell you you’re the reason why I’ve also tried to be a sunshine and
now?
now I’m trying not to choke on one of your ****** sunshine’s rays.
~Shaima

You say silence,
the most beautiful kind.
You touch fiction,
soft as a lover's mind.
You hear hiatus,
strong and clear everytime.
I feel you,
and it's like all of it combined.

How strange... I love the sound of us even when you are not. I love how you are not.
Maybe the fact that you are not is what hurts me the most but I still love it.
Because when you are not,
I am not.
And oh, how marvellous it feels to drift into non existance before my heart starts beating.

i dreamt my eyes reflected your pain,
and turned it into lust.
i dreamt i no longer had to water my art with tears, for your soul flooded me with passion,
siezing the last bit of sanity your lips hadn't consumed.
i dreamt of your papery skin cuting through me, begging for my blood to write love songs on your edges.
i dreamt of you.
and i couldn't help but curse reality when i woke up,
because no matter how hard i shut my eyes,
you,
disolved in my pillow,
like the memory of happiness.

I needed you
so horribly badly that my soul began unstitching fragments of the reality we had, looking for you.
So madly, my ribcage was barely able to keep my lungs from breaking out, in search of your breath.
Will you forgive me when I choose the most utter simplicity in order to stay alive?
I swear I will return,
but in the meantime,
bear in mind that a drunken heart is way too heavy for a butterfly to carry.