I went on a walk with Aristotle,
And we pondered, as we wandered.
I quizzed him about the necessity of friendship,
Or if they were just an excuse to dawdle.
He looked at me and stroked his chin,
And questioned why I questioned him,
I responded with a simple plea,
“I’m in desperate need of guidance.
I had a group,
That flew the coop,
While I could do,
Nothing but watch.
The scales were removed,
I learned soon after,
That letting down your guard spells doom,
And leaves you in tatters.”

He listened to my story,
I wiped my damp eyes,
He patted my shoulder,
To my surprise.
He smiled softly,
Took my hand and spoke gently.
“You’ve been hurt and now you’re scared,
And scarred; you think you’re beyond repair,
And the world might tell you so.
What you witnessed wasn’t friendship,
Not in the purest sense,
But more like a fleeting sparrow,
Leaping from nest to nest.
Some feel deeply, much as yourself,
So you assume, naturally, that’s the same as everyone else,
But some are superficial and see you as a means to an end,
Those artificial peons aren’t true friends.
True philia isn’t fragile, and it rarely decays,
To the slightest change in breeze,
Or a joke uttered in the wrong way,
But it stands firm, like this oak,
Though occasionally, it may sway.”

We sat down under the tree,
An apple fell into my lap.
I took a bite, heard the crunch,
The sweetness reminding me of what I lost.
Like honeysuckle, a short reprieve,
From the pain I held within.
Was it my lack of connection,
That sealed the fate for my friends?
As I was lost deep in thought,
Aristotle retrieved a bottle,
Of wine for him, and juice for me,
He smiled again, continuing.
“True friendship is rare, like fine wine,
It’s crafted and molded by time.
Sometimes you drink, and the taste is sour,
Grapes harvested past their ripe hour.
Don’t distress about the mess,
The fish are plentiful in the ocean.
However, without the willingness to cast,
How can one hope to be loved?
You say a lowered guard spells doom,
You may think that rings true,
But a lonely monarch on his throne,
Has no one to count on but his own,
And will inevitably lose.
Friendship, like love, is filled with pain,
It’s a gambit covered with messy blame.
For those who don’t dare to play,
Are destined to be destitute of fame,
And overcompensated by shame.”

“How does one forget the wounds they’ve been dealt?”
I asked, hoping for an answer I knew didn’t exist.
“You cannot; that pain will be a constant, always felt.”
He glanced over, noticing my resistance.
“Don’t be afraid to feel, if feeling is who you are,
But don’t let the fleeting tear you apart.”
I shed a tear, which turned to two,
As double hurricanes clouded my view.
Aristotle dropped his bottle,
And embraced me, understanding me,
More than my friends ever had.
A simple conversation,
A few words spoken,
More meaningful than years of emotional investment.
He stood and smiled once more,
Leaving me with this final encore.
“Those who think are often tormented by,
What fears and pains they hide on the inside.
Don’t forget to spread your wings and fly,
With true feathered friends, not crows who lie.”

Aristotle disappeared, leaving me with many thoughts.
I stood up and brushed my weary self off.
I closed the book I had been reading,
Dried my eyes from their weeping,
Smiled, and finished the apple I had been eating.
For I could always read the book from beginning to end,
If I wished to walk with Aristotle again.

I went on a jaunt through the park,
And found a man dancing underneath the stars.
Two-step, and he spun around,
His feet were so graceful on the ground.
He looked toward me and,
Extended his hand.
I didn’t know what to do,
Was this too good to be true?
Of his motives, I was unsure,
But he had this strange allure.
So, I swallowed and decided then,
To reach out and take his extended hand.

We danced in tune,
Of a melody no one could hear.
We danced throughout the night,
And though he was a stranger, I had no fear.
We moved together like we’d done this before,
But, I swear to you, this was new.
I didn’t want to go despite my intuition,
Before I knew it, the sun had risen.

We met over the course of the month,
Same spot, same time, and if that wasn’t enough.
We’d dance for hours, starting at the setting sun,
And we’d remain till the next day, when the morning welcomed us.
I never saw his face; he hid behind a mask,
But if he didn’t want to tell me, I decided not to ask.
I asked his name, but he merely shook his head,
At the time, I didn’t bother to question it.

We didn’t care if people watched,
We ignored their remarks as they gawked.
He spun me round, up and down,
Lifted me high and I touched the sky.
I was alone, but I was found,
I felt connected and like I had a crown.
Our waltz was all we focused on,
His hand in mine, things were fine, or so I thought.

One night, I was at our stage, all alone.
I had been waiting since the sun set long ago.
He was gone; all he left was a note on the ground.
I walked over, looked down, and then looked all around.
I picked it up, saw what it said,
And I finally knew who I had been dancing with.
It said a name,
One, I am ashamed to say.
Solitude,
Had left me destitute,
Now I was truly alone.
He had gone,
Left me behind,
All I had was my own.

I stood up, laughed out of spite,
And gazed up into the night.
Had I done something wrong?
Did I step on his foot or dance to another song?
Either way, he ran away,
Solitude had ruined my day.
So, figuring I was at a new low,
And needing a moment of respite,
I decided to continue dancing solo,
Throughout the night.

Today was tomorrow, yesterday.
If that isn’t enough to make you go crazy,
Then, how about a year ago, today felt like forever away,
Yet, by tomorrow, it’ll be gone, nothing left to say.
For nothing gold can stay,
But, isn’t time a tyrannical little thing?

We can’t change it, nor stop it,
We’re purely at its will.
We can’t see it, but its effects,
As our world is encompassed by its silk.
It’s all around us, yet it eludes us.
How can we be so blind,
But, bound by brutes who bellow from the night?

We watch helplessly,
As the world changes constantly.
Partly, by our hands,
Purely by time’s demands.
Puppets on sharpened strings,
Dancing to a tune that someone else sings.
I wish I could sever the strings,
But we’re all dragged along by time, continuously.

It’s heartbreaking to watch such beauty fall apart.
Friendships die, people cry,
Dust yourself off and keep on smiling bright.
Rise up, like a daisy,
Otherwise, the world gets too hazy.
How am I supposed to see?!
Sometimes, it feels like things are crashing down around me.
Time laughs as it claps,
Dust myself off and keep on walking straight,
Suffocating under the weight.

People keep growing older around me,
Meanwhile, I’ve felt the same since I turned fourteen.
Eventually, I’ll have to put on an act,
Like I have any idea what I’m doing.
Pull it all together and keep on moving.
That’s all that we can do.

Oh…I fear the future.
Most may say I’m delusional,
But I like control.
I like my day to be predictable,
No surprises for me.
And when my routines break,
Anxiety takes the helm.
Why wouldn’t I be afraid,
Of something that affects me every day?
Why wouldn’t I be terrified,
Of something that’ll affect the rest of my life?
All based on decisions I make,
What if I make a mistake?
The last thing I need is more pain.
From the tyrant who controls everything.
Tyrannical time,
I don’t understand how people turn a blind eye.
I wish I were ignorant,
Since that seems to be bliss.
Instead, I think, perhaps, too much,
About things I can’t ever touch.
That’s my curse…

Alls my life I has to hop, brother!
Alls my life I...
Hard times like, “Yah!”.
Mad tricks like, “Yah!”.

Fatalist, I’m all lost
Homie, you are all lost
But if God got us, then we gon’ be alright

We gon’ be alright!
We gon’ be alright!
Brother, we gon’ be alright

What we need is a way to lose the radar
Of the creatures of gluttony that resembles
a bar.
So, I hop in hope that I’m still afar
From the clenches of them ****** piranhas
Chasin’ me like a cop car.
Call this eternal for no solace is there
And this frog won’t ever give in to that
Joker’s flair.
Twisted it is that a kiss pronounces exit from
this lair?
Yeah, sure do adhere.
I’d rather die and state my mind clear.
This circus denounces hell, I fear.
Joker’s the devil and piranha’s sin, my dear.
It’s clear what they intend to do here.
Mere resistance is futile and it tears
Lingering hope and steers
My fate. My life. My ideas.

But I take a leap of faith Cause
If God got us, then we gon’ be alright.

Brother, we gon’ be alright.
                                 -Asher Graves

I once was kidnapped by Dracula,
He took me to his castle in Transylvania,
Which, by the way, is in Romania,
In case you didn’t know.
He chained me to the wall,
Slapped me, cutting me with his claws,
Before he decided to withdraw,
And sit on his throne.
I said,
“I think there’s a misunderstanding between us.
This bad blood isn’t anything serious,
Sure, I was wrong for being too envious,
But, please, don’t do anything heinous.
I’ll apologize,
Just spare my life,
Is this quarrel worth a fight?
Let’s rationalize instead.”
Dracula laughed,
Lightning cracked,
Followed by a thunderclap,
As if the world were terrified.
He walked over and held my face,
Squeezing it tightly, causing me pain,
He smiled, showing off his bloodied fangs.
I started to cry.
He said,
“You think this is just bad blood,
Like when a loving couple breaks up?
You’re tempting me with that smell of strawberry,
And I’m fighting the urge to feed on your blood.
This isn’t some game you play,
You said some awful things,
But when I bite back, you claim an attack,
And suddenly I’m the one who’s deranged?”
He laughed,
I didn’t talk back.
He was right, I was wrong,
I had been all along.
And now I was face to face,
With the monster I created, due to my mistakes.

I hold in my hand
my seeds of anger,
of resentment,
of frustration,
of bitterness,
of regret.

What flowers will grow from these seeds I wonder?
What colour will they be?
What of their perfume?

I cast the seeds onto the ground
where they were swallowed by the Earth.
I watered the ground where they fell and now I wait …

The sun rose and fell for many days
before I returned to my plot and there they were:
blooms dark as night
atop black stems
and jagged leaves.

And a strange perfume filled the air:
not foul as I would have thought
but pleasant,
intoxicating even.

I breathed deep,
savouring the aroma,
and a sense of calm overwhelmed my senses.

I shut my eyes,
basking in their bouquet.

And when I opened them
mere moments later,
I held in my hand
a few seeds,
seeds like no others I have ever seen;
they seemed to shimmer in the light.

I cast the seeds onto the ground
and they were swallowed by the Earth.
I watered the ground where they fell and now I wait …

The sun rose and fell for many days
before I returned to my plot and there they were:
blooms white, bright as day
atop the greenest stems
and greenest leaves.

Now I had a simple choice:
which of the blooms to choose?
Should it be those blackest blooms
dark like the night
or the white bright blooms,
leaving the others
to wither and die from neglect?

I am yet to decide …

A velvet-heavy, honey-spiced cake
sat on a table spread vast.
soft enough for fingers to disappear into,
dense enough to still
even the most restless tongues.
Its candles flickered like stars.

No one asked who baked it.
No one wondered how long the oven stayed warm.
They just took— with knives that glinted like treaties,
with fingers that didn’t wait for plates.

Frosting smeared like territory lines,
plums dug out and hoarded,
their hands sticky with inheritance.

Someone wanted the cherry—
another, the coast of caramel.

Of course, they sang Happy Humanity to us,
clinking forks like medals,
smiling with mouths still full,
declaring the feast a triumph
without once glancing at the crumbs beneath the table.

The table itself is now a battlefield
of crusts and claims.
And the last slice sits on the chipped porcelain.