it's the small things that make me the happiest
see a bumblebee helping the flowers grow
running through an empty green field
a new song that gives me the chills
deep 2 a.m talks with him
seeing a huge smile on the faces of those I love
watching a sunflower grow
looking at the stars at 3 a.m
watching the sunrise as the birds sing their songs

all these things make me so happy
happier than any amount of money could bring to me

They say never to underestimate
the rage of a woman
but what we should not underestimate
is the touch of a woman
for that is what will break you
sending you insane
with desire.  

Spinning through all seven deadly sins.

From gluttony through to lust
pride through to envy
anger through to greed
leaving you at sloth
avoiding all else that matters
craving only;
the touch of a woman.

She doesn't like odd numbers
so I kiss her head
in twos,
her cheeks
in fours,
and her lips
in sixes,
eights,
and tens.

It’s 2 am
And you stared outside the window
Looking at the vastness of nothing
How lights touched other lights
And how this darkness covers us all
It’s when you will realize
One could not keep secrets that long
It will have holes
It will leak through gaps
And spaces
It would make you feel incomplete
And a complete mess
Because the things you can hide from others
Are the things you can never hide from yourself
Because when it’s 2 am
And you’re staring at the vastness of nothing
You can only feel yourself
And you don’t want to wake up from a dream
A beautiful dream that is a nightmare
When it hits 3 am.

You need not visit right now.
For I wish to stay wide awake
In the arms of my loved one.
And if you were to exhaust me,
I would have to retreat to my own bed.
So please, let me enjoy this.

i tried numbing the pain,
i tried writing it on a paper,
i made it my strength

but how come i always felt weak?
i wanna become happier,
but all i receive is hell

yesterday, today, tomorrow
will i ever be happy?
will i hear the birds singing?
or will i even see broad daylight

sun light on my skin?
the little maps on my face
the trace of my arts in my arm
the lovely eyes of mine

will i ever learn to see a new world
or even see how beautiful i really am
inside,