Love is deceiving: that it can put you into a chaotic hurricane of misfortune yet you will keep being so blindly lucky.

Love is manipulating: that sometimes it becomes an ultimate tool for a person to politically dominates you. It mops your own self-authority.

You'll eventually become controlled. You'll be owned, you'll be toyed, that the presence of yourself means nothing more than just a belonging brought along.

Love is voracious: that it always makes you so greedy for affection, and craving more than just attention.

As the things don't go straight forward with your wish, and you don't get what you hardly need, you'll be left suffocated. You'll gamble your very lack of happiness only to be evaporated.

Love is lonesome: that every night, it will let you so sleepless, envisioning to a constant uncertainty which frustrates you to the utmost.

There will always be a constant battle in your mind that will dig the hollow so deep beyond the control. You'll soon use to the clattering cries and more simultaneous tears evoked.

But the good thing, it will sharp your melancholic soul elegantly: so exquisite that you'll paint your feelings in a train full of letters.

You'll possess the ability to bewitch gibberish into an excruciating enchantment for the woeful lovers. Those are the one whose joy are scattered to a blow of ashes.

- April, 24 2018, 02:23 AM.

Hahahaha
A damaging exclamation
Hahahaha
Damning your reputation
Watch for your words
They pierce through paper skin
Ruining lives with an adjective or noun
Because words can hurt me

Why must a heart beat?

To keep a rhythmic marching time through life?
That common tempo keeping order in
our lawless world of hate and fear death.
Each heartbeat rallies troops across the globe,
a single feature shared in every life,
an army built on spirit, crying out
with every thump that we are one.

But what must hearts beat for?

To beat we mean to say 'to fight,'
and for what better cause to fight than love?
That painful pleasure wielding power both
to wreck lives and create them,
the strength it gives to those from whom it stole in battles past.
Enamoured and encased in armour,
steeled against the pain before
as drums beat faster
palms grow sweaty
the tempo quickens
gazes steady
you brace and lean in
gently
and surrender to his kiss
as he gives in to yours,
your battle won by both
as both your drums keep time in perfect synchrony
your breaths the perfect melody that keep
the perfect peace.

I’ve toyed with fight or flight,
Had it freeze me in a nitrogen bath.
At the very innocuous sight of a face.
But the face just denoted
The crushing fear, that swallows me whole.
So I’m a runner and
I’ll hide in anything, including a frozen mind.
If I could I’d fight
One of these days I will fight.
But, battles of the self, need to be chosen carefully.
So I’ll just keep toying with flight
Until I’m sure that fight won’t end me