Simple interests
Complex values
Evaluating
Desired profits
Loss of interests
Principal principles lost

I think we're only good when we miss each other
and I'm ok with that
now.

all the years of longing
all the tears and wronging
all your suffering girl
all your strength girl

you haven't been sure
it hasn't been easy:
dial his number and call him?
ignore your deepest fears

mom told you not to (not to!)
bro told you not to (not to!)
everybody said so (said so!)
you weren't listen (you weren't!)

he didn't pick up the phone
should you try it again?
you're a keen and focussed girl
so you did (so you did!)

a female's voice on the other line
"he ain't there now try again in..."
a man's voice in the background yelling
"no way to talk to your father, girl"

no surrender! never give up!
life is like push-ups feel me?
life is fighting nothing else feel me?
never give up! call him again!

finally you made it: he picked up
shivering sentences spoken
a long talk of fear and longing
he wouldn't ask you anything

dad made clear you're no daughter of his
he remained distant no smile no joy
you remain distant no smile no joy
you're no daughter of his (of his!)

hey daddy i
would like to talk to
you please

may i?
forgive me to disturb you i
know you are a genius
as well as a soldier

may i?

hey daddy i
have been trying for so...
long

please may i talk to
you?

forgive me to disturb you i
know you're a genius
as well as a soldier

may i?

Something about the way his eyes glowed in the pattern on the sun filled the room with an aura of something blue. Sometimes red. Others green or purple. But each time he filled the room. On days that were cold his heart grew warm. Though cheeks red. His hair was brown but white like snow on winter days. He reminded me of winter. Chilling but beautiful. Complex but so simple. Cold but warm inside.

it’s hard,
finding words that best describe
how to feel
how to tell.
nobody understands,
i talk in complicated ways,
making it hard for you to grasp onto me.
maybe it is the words i use
or perhaps, the words you’re unfamiliar with,
call me out for being out of context,
but the content i create communicates sense to me.
i tremble at the sight of people talking around me,
troubles me because everyone and everything i know has remained close to speaking ever so carelessly and loosely about me.
at this point, they receive pleasure from laughing, mocking and “getting” me,
they lie and reflect bitterness
is it jealousy or envy?
quick assumptions or savvy?
call me stupid, useless, or any other unnecessary comment that seems to compliment your currency,
but extraordinary is more suitable a trait,
than the look of disgrace placed on your face whenever your eyes meet mine.