"Careful, it burns." you warn
And you tell anyone who will listen
You post on the news and shout to the world
Of the flames that dangerously glisten

"Careful, there's fire." you cry
And you tell everyone to watch out
Because once the fire starts
All around you are screams and shouts

"Careful." you say "Careful." you caution
But you don't do anything about the flames
You throw water balloons in futile attempts
You think this forest fire's simply a game

"Careful!" you scream. "Careful, it's urgent!"
But no one hears you anymore
Because you're the one who started the fire
And no one sides with the wager of war

You tell me to be careful
And keep the lighter locked inside
But then you dump a gallon of kerosene
And look on at the flames with pride

As a young man (30ish)
Sat alone in a room,
His feeble voice
Rang out:
"If there's anyone here,
Please talk to me."

"Help!" He continued.
"I've gotta go
To the bathroom.
Please, help me!"
Echoed his broken,
Lame voice.

Sadly, his cry
Fell on deaf ears.

I've seen him
Throw himself down,
And banging his head
On the floor--
In a loud voice,  
Cursed God continuously.

With a lamenting voice,
He prayed to die.
And yet, he lived.

In pitious ragings,
He'd severely
Threaten others.
But with family,
He remained utterly calm.
Only his family
Could console him.

My heart ached for him,
As my eyes welled with tears.
For, you see,
He was young and blind.

Unfortunately,
He was a young blind man,
Consumed by his blindness.

Asks one blind man to another
“How did you lose your eyes?”
Replies the other

“I was born into a world of darkness.
Nothing to see, but the abyss ahead.
Staring into its depth, as it stared back.”

Asks one blind man to another
“How did you lose your eyes?”
Replies the other

“I was born into a world of light.
As a child whose eyes sparked curiosity,
I searched, taking in everything I found.”

“The azure summer sky on the tranquil blue ocean.
The trees dancing in the first monsoon shower.
The amber foliage on a sepia autumn sky.”

Replies the man born blind “I wonder what’s worse.
Experiencing sight and having it taken away,
Or not experiencing it at all.”

The other smiled a smile so happy yet so sad
“The sights of light are still vivid in this abyss.
Light so bright, light so dark...”

“My loss is both a blessing and a curse.
I’ll never see those sights again
I’ll never forget those sights either.”

Asked the man born blind,
“Is mine a blessing or a curse?”
The other cried, tears flowing from a void.

“Cling on to her hand and don’t ever let go,
Asleep in her warm caress, don’t ever wake up
She’s both your blessing and curse.

She is oblivion.

Four walls; a pair of cupped hands.
Jaundiced like an open eye; an open cove
Prescribing solitude to those whom solitude cannot withstand,
And I choose this cold corner which is furthest from the door,
To be where I am not, before
Your proclivities become my own, I write. I write,
My window holds my breath and frosts the world,
The moon in his amber gown, dressed in chatoyance and spite,
Godspeed; dark, dark shroud for naked skies!
Six floors, walls, doors from you am I.

I couldn't write when the sun peered in,
Her inquiry evangelizing the specks of time left upon the glass -
I've heard it all before; God's shining face leaves none unloved (unseen)
but his spotlight has no starlet; so who can see me up here?
We can't see from windows, dear.
I'd live and sing for the cloudless hall
The nursery of misanthropists crawling on the grey cobblestone
And the lilt of the wind on the rose; through squares nice and small -
The peevish moth shudders at the sight of itself obscuring the day through the glass.
It seems we're always in the way.

We see things not as they appear to be,
But as we want them to appear to us,
That’s why; we see the bond and not the betrayal,
We remember the chemistry and not the catastrophe,
We remember the temptation and not the tears,
We remember the happiness and not the heartbreak,
We remember the smiles and not the scars,
We remember their eyes melting us,
But not their egos crushing us,
We remember the touch and not the torture.

An error as my screen fades to darkness,
My life around me disappears.
But proof of my existence is harnessed
In the organs laid in my ears.
My drums are interesting instruments
They anchor to more than my brain
I would rather hear sound so dissonant
Than spectate a silent frame.

Rejoice! in my perspective so dreary,
For my consciousness has been saved.
Language and music my theory,
In life how love is portrayed.

why won't someone tell me
what they know
or is it all a show
I can't really tell
the spasms
touches of sarcasm
the flakes of fakes
like a self conscious woman
I follow you
blindly
i follow
but now i wallow
as your actions hit me
like a heart attack
maybe I am just being dramatic
It's a panic
shaken bones
my mind has grown
It's just a panic
a panic.