Do you know what its like,
to try breathing
after a child-hood suffering
blood as I would wake up
from the strangulation?
Its hard for me
to see humanity understanding
as wars feud to further suffering
leading to the agony and death.

I had dreams burst like confetti
but not in any good simple way
My soul's been swallowed like spaghetti
and there's a number on rest of my days.

I see the inhumanity and depravation
that weighs upon my own conscious
I've said some very terrible things,
I deserve to be a cease to being.

In the quiet moments before his departure,
She watches as her father prepares to return
To the land of his ancestors, to China,
A journey back to the roots of his existence.

She loves him dearly, her father,
Her heart heavy with the knowledge
That he will not be there for the special moments,
Those milestone occasions that mark a life.

No father to walk her down the aisle,
To give her away to the man she loves,
No father to see the children she will bear,
To hold his grandchildren in his arms.

But she wants to reassure him,
To let him know that the man by her side
Is not a replacement, but a reflection
Of his love and devotion, his strength and kindness.

She weeps as she speaks, her voice thick with emotion,
For she only wants him to be proud of her,
To be happy for her as she has found
The family she always longed for.

A family that mirrors and exceeds
The love he gave her growing up,
A family built on trust and respect,
A family that will stand the test of time.

Her father listens with a heavy heart,
Regret clouds his eyes as he realizes
That he never told her how much he loved her,
Never expressed the depth of his feelings.

But he accepts her choice,
He blesses the union,
Knowing that the man she has chosen
Will never abandon her, will never hurt her.

And in that moment, as they stand
On the threshold of a new chapter,
Father and daughter embrace,
Their love transcends words.

For, in the end, it is not the words we say
That matters most, but the love we show,
The actions we take, the bonds we forge,
That truly defines who we are.

And as her father walks away,
She carries his love in her heart,
A beacon of light guiding her path,
A reminder of the love that will never fade.

they'll give it a name,
but a name doesn't mean
they'll take it more seriously
now that it has a place
in the common vocabulary.
it's still something
they don't understand,
since they can't relate
to battling the heaviness
just to stay present,
they don't know the weight
of staying awake.
now they put it on screens,
they promote it commercially,
mass-produced relief.
it still doesn't equal acceptance,
and just being able to live
shouldn't need to be paid for.
they give it a name,
but a name doesn't mean
they're no longer afraid to say it.
though it has its own place
in the vocabulary,
the victims remain unseen.

When I will die, the world will keep its pace,
Unfazed by my absence, in its infinite grace,
The sun will rise, casting its morning glow,
Life will move forward, as it always does so.
When I will die, the skies will still be blue,
The stars will shine brightly, in the night's hue,
The seasons will turn, from spring to fall,
Nature’s grand cycle, embracing us all.
When I will die, memories will linger on,
In the hearts of those who’ve known me, even when I'm gone, Echoes of laughter, whispers of love,
Will weave through time, like a gentle dove.
When I will die, let there be peace,
A quiet end, a serene release,
No mourning, no sorrow, just a gentle farewell,
As I journey onward, where dreams dwell.
When I will die, I'll find my place,
Among the stars, in boundless space,
A soul set free, to roam and explore,
In the infinite vastness, forevermore.

A final bullet in my head,
mud that's sworn the tread
They wish me to join the dead
to be the number in color red.

I never wish their execution
was none of a Crucifixion
and that their deliration
is of a bond of exhilaration

But its simple in a flight
demons roam the nights,
angels in the mornings.
Angels rough deals with rights

Yes, I join the true Lucifer
As God now struggles
and he's of Noah Ark
and God is mankind's shark

While Lucifer was born
the most beautiful angel
He wanted God to see mankind
Experience gifts  God created

I forgot to die, and I forgot to ****
The parts I have inside that stop my being still
I forgot to hope and forgot to believe
That I have what it takes to be alive and live
I forgot - like - charcoal forgets embers
When it rains on it but always remembers
When a spark of life brings back the red it needed
To live out it's purpose, this cycle is repeated

Because it’s human nature to grow through what is painful
And it’s human nature to become forgetful
Be it man or charcoal, in order to remember
Who we're meant to be, first we must surrender
To undiscovered depths and tidal waves of letting go
Of what we're certain of so we can become more,

Most of the time,
Slowly.

All of the time,
Surely.

The mason chipped flecks
from slate with a nail,
each tiny grey speck
carving a brief tale
that strips a life’s fame
down to the merest detail:
two dates, one name,
in letters faint and pale.
It asks One to bless
them who’ve passed through the veil,
to grant them their rest
’til resurrection prevails.
The mason too is long gone,
none live who his name still bewail;
he lies beneath the stone
that another past mason regaled.

Last night I heard a ghost ravaging around,
It woke me up as they weren't quietest of sounds.
It was clambering through drawals of photos
of the history of all of our young poses.

It seemed determined to find the one
so it can no longer be in mourning.
But press to its heart a dear photograph
A cherished memory proven so worthy.

Was it looking for my brother,
before he committed suicide
Was it looking for my mother,
Before she died and suffered?

Or does it has a premonition
that I'm next in line for death,
I won't stop the reaper's actions,
as now I'm too tired to live.

once trapped in between metal and wood, the mouse forfeits its life to the higher power
for its own foolishness and yearning for livelihood led it to the clamping jaws of death
the mischief goes without mourning, for deadweight is doomed to the side of the road regardless.
the tiny mouth of a mouse can only squeak so loudly, but the sound is drowned out by the snapping of its fragile bones like a branch of a tree falling
this is an infinite purgatory
rodents aren't reborn, and will always be invaluable to all species but themselves.
everything dies, but the hungry are murdered.

i rest in the corner of a cubic room, stuck in my fate.
i wish not for the best of life, or for a new one afterword
i know my valueless existence will be replaced down the line.
the days flash by and what is left of me is rot, clinging to the bones that make me the weak and deformed being i am.
people would save me if i wasn't a bottom feeder.
a perfect puppy, full of life and joy.
maybe just a bird, wing snagged by a predator whilst trying to ****** food.
i'm not ugly, am i?
am i not worth companionship?
i'm not even worth the food i find for my family.
the world was mine once.
to be free to wander again, without having to worry about being fooled or trapped.
i should be too young to die, but i'm too clever to live.