Aspiring,
Dreading,
Forgetting.

As soon as it leaves it returns,
Unburned:
The wishes,
The yearning,
With the pain of wanting.

Somehow I want to make someone proud,
But I've never met them,
I'm sure I never will,
They have no clue how hard I'm trying,
Just to make myself heard,
While desperately making sure I
Seep into the background.

Deep down I know I can do many things,
Or maybe lately that reaches the surface,
Until it drowns again,
Then somehow survives,
Resuscitates itself from nothing.
It's called my motivation,
My effort to succeed.

But out of all these things,
I will not allow one to be trying to please someone,
Who has:
Never been pleased with me;
Doesn't own the right to be proud;
Or have the chance to find me;
Convince themselves they can make amends.
I believe in second chances,
Just not for people who never even started.

Next I see someone else,
Whose only in my dreams.
He makes me worthwhile,
For a little bit,
And I'm able to smile.
He keeps me safe,
Gives me enough love to take,
And let's me breathe again.

Each time it never fails
To remind me,
How I need this,
As much as the air I breathe.
It gives me things,
Things which I need.
Apparently escapism,
Isn't allowed to be reality,
But I'll keep coming back to it,
Just to get through the days,
Even if it shouldn't be keeping me awake.

There, in the corner just hidden from sight,
'Tis a location only you can see.
Come, take a break; hold off your plight.
Why not let go for a bit--be cheerful, be free?


Take the chance and walk past the open door
with hope in one hand and freedom in the other.
What you see past it shall make you doubt,
but know that this world is one you never knew about.


There, under your feet shall lie a yellow brick path
with no house, no creature or a scarecrow in sight.
From point zero 'til the horizon shall be long green grass.
Golden road in front and behind with vast meadows left and right.


Hear the birds chiro and the insects cry, hidden in the grassy lush.
Feel the winds form breezes that caress the endless plains.
You shall see no raging storm or a prowling beast in the peaceful hush.
So in your heart, there shan't be ire or sadness that remains.


Before you realize, scenes of reality creep in from the door.
Though you run to escape their colors that devour, colors of real life.
It follows in a slow, unstoppable spill--with duty and hardship in store.
When you look forward, a linear passage cuts open as if by a knife.


Still, at the end is another way back out,
and there are only two choices you will see.
One is to go back and the other is cry and shout.
But there are two others, if you would come and look closely.


The third is to go back with a defiant will,
a choice to observe and form a hidden solution.
While the fourth is to forever gaze beyond the window sill.
To live in that hidden corner, mind and body in eternal separation.


Pick any one of the four if that's how many you see,
and when you have decided, you should take responsibility.
There is no rewind nor is there turning back
for reality is subtle in its confidence to show you what you lack.

Petals
Decorating my bedroom floor.
Lit candles
Flickering upon nightstands.
Our favorite gentle music
Dancing into my ears.
And you're there, too
Waiting upon bed sheets
Silently
Bidding me come.
And as passion befalls me
Cold, frigid water
Rushes down my naked skin.
The warm water exhausted
Brings me back
To sitting in the shower
Alone