Old lover,
It's been years
Since I've last seen your face
Covered with tears
And a frown
As we began to part ways,
I heard you softly whisper
"Darling, I'll always love you."
I turned and replied
With a heavy sigh
"I loved you but your love was
Just a game of lies.
You said your heart beated for me,
Like mine only did for you,
But your heart had actually
Always beated for two.
So don't you dare
Blame this on me,
When the fault is all on you."

You stood there quiet,
Then walked away
Right there I knew
And without a word
I turned and left
Without looking back at you.

Old lover,
It's been years
Since I last saw your face
I start to think
As I light my cigarette
Under the old willow tree
Where we used to always be.
And as I traced my fingertips
Over the carved heart
Where you imprinted our names
That one hot summer day,
I think to myself,
How stubborn are these scars when they don't fade away,
And how stubborn is a heart
When it continues to break.

As I stood up to leave
I turned to face the old willow tree
My mind flooded by memories,
Of what once was and what no longer will be.
I reached for my lighter,
staring into the flame
And walked up to the old willow
Setting it ablaze
Burning the last bridge
To those memories we once made

I watched it burn
A growing ache my heart
Met with a deep sigh with relief
Of finally letting go
A long dead memory.

you warmed me and you thawed my soul
a summer sun on a winter frost
your arms they heat my paper skin.
your breath mended my broken bones.

it isn't right the way you tease me
much about and inside me isn't right
and I believe that you can see why
You must see right through my  body
to the downward destinations inside
Where I hide exactly what is felt
And when my heart is caught
is the trap then forgotten
On the contrary, the ordinary,
the less than savory,
The nothing special as the ignorant laugh
And as they do, the wise understand
this in itself cannot be easy
What is there yet that may be coming
So much wrong beneath
Some beyond, buried, unlikely
Other pieces are much less deep
These are mine, my secrets,
My own unlikable qualities, proud moments
Terrible wants, disturbing fantasies
Awful enough that they must stay down
Down is where demons go,
But I think you've seen them

Would u like to help me sharing my love?
I dont laugh at people, just laugh w them,
I smile to them and let them happy,
Making them feeling loved and realised.

Who wants it? Hello? Someone? Its free!

Would you like to share ur love w me?
It smells like roses,
It feels like ur relaxing swiming in the ocean,
Feels like love itself: it is Love.

Who wants it?

Would u like to spread our love to the world?
What does it seem like?
Does it make you feel happy?
Does it relax you and make you feel confident?
Does it make you smile?

Why dont we make other people smile also?
Does the love really smell like roses
Or does it just feel good by itself?

Do you need a smile or a hug?
Do you need a hand to help you
Or a shoulder to cry?

Do you think that its selfish
Or u dont deserve it?
Try 1 simple thing:
Try something called Love.

Try to give a hand who needs
And a hug to make them comfortable
And a shoulder to cry and share good and bad moments
And smile called 4giveness...

Try simply the simplicity
Try simply the honesty
Try simply the sincerity
Try simply to Love...

You´ll c, after you do all these
To whom who needs you
You´ll feel the love,
More and more stronger...

And when you look back,
You´ll feel that when you give
You will also receive...

We create ourselves
Pen on paper
With little scribbles
Of Ink and lead
Wordless volumes
That endless pages
Can not contain

We lose ourselves
Time after time
In mindless journeys
Through overgrown forests
Un-trodden roads
That endless steps
Can not penetrate

We find ourselves
Chained to stones
With eagle-torn livers
The product of our spirit
Worn by questions
That endless answers
Can not explain


We destroy ourselves
Word by word
With trembling roars
Shrinking lions to mice
Lifeless corpses
That end all lives
We can not remain

We are created
Wound after wound
By the thick black blood
Seeping from our hearts
Empty souls
In endless parchment
Bound by that
Which we create.

I preferred when we were strangers
I liked it better when I didn’t know you.
Some things are just better left unfinished
rather than continuing with the tragic event
I learned that you are harder on the ones you know and care about.
There were reasons why I stayed away
but at the same time, I didn’t realise
that I had actually tied ropes to my arrows
so when I attack, you know exactly where I would be
and I’ve always had this habit of leading people to me.
I’ve come to terms that whether I like it or not,
the traces I leave are often appealing to wanderers
who have absolute no idea what they’re getting themselves in to.
No matter how I hard I try to cover my tracks,
the attraction curses my mere existence
and there is nothing more I want than to just be.

Choking, i spat out a piece of my lung,
Into the white porcelain sink,
Then after brief pause, I lit up another one.
And used the black tar as ink.