What does desperation look like?
It looks like a top two sizes too small,
like a jumper on summer,
like a self inflicted scar.
It looks like an empty bottle of pills
laying on the bathroom floor,
like a smile too bright, too big,
like a phone call at night,
like a goodbye.
Desperation looks like everyday life.

they are such fantasies of mine.
Such silly fantasies of mine that i believe will come true.
A boy learning wholly of literature and dictionary just to read my poems,
A boy listening about every stupid thing i ever own,
A boy praying that i get all alone with him.
These are all fantasies or wishes to me.
Which all come from a place of desperation. Of course
Which fool might recite entirety of Shakespeare just to read a girl's stupid old words?
Which ******* will take his precious time out to listen about birds?
Oh, which buffoon will pray for me?  
I, whose existence lies on poetry is no show for modernity.  
I, whose wings are tattered will always be a shattered mirror for society.

I painted your greyest skies my warmest colours,
i planted flowers over your dead soil,
i sat in pit of misery as my experience shouldn't be bestowed upon you,
i pleaded as a solider to its king to stop the war,
to stop the war within you
and when the roles were reversed you left me out to stink in my agony, dreaded with misery
When questioned, you looked at me
It was the first i saw your soulless eyes,
and maybe i shouldn't had hesitated with your knife over my throat,
I should've melted over your knife and let blood drip your face,
If it drips would it be sinful? Or a scar?
maybe i should've let myself rot away as my soul would've been free,
if it weren't for me
would you have survived?
You, who held this misery once was too shaken to see if it weren't for me.
We are two worlds colliding and dying.

i have been caged up for so long that i no longer feel the rust itch upon my skin,
how the harsh sun melts my fellow mate bones.
Every now and then there's a meal.
A meal so fantastic for cover up that even i believe it.
4,203 meals yet none of it tastes as delicious as meal of denial.
Hard to come by,
get past and stroll upon so i eat it.
Day by day till starvation meets my face
as every meal was just anger,
desperation,
ignorance,
emotional unavailability,
selfishness
as meal is not made of food.
It was never made of food.
“Everybody paints me the villain!” He cries.
There's no paint left over to cry in canvas.
“Nobody understand me!” he pleads and goes away
It's been 627 days since his death,
He reeks.

How do I stop loving?
How can I stop caring?
I love you too much ---
More than you could ever touch.

I am a wounded soldier,
Wounded with your love.
But I don’t have anyone’s shoulder ---
Is this what love does?

The thought of you makes me cry,
And I weep till my eyes are dry,
Now I seek your refuge,
And defeat I refuse.

All my friends tell me to stop
They say my love must drop
But here I stand,
With obsession I can’t withstand.

Why is god testing me,
Now all is wasting me,
I shouldn’t have seen your face,
Because nothing went at my pace.

For you I was always there,
And I know once you used to care,
But what went wrong along the way?
Now all I do is wait for you at the bay,

The bay for hope,
The bay I used to cope.
Cause now I know for sure,
My love for you is nothing but pure.

May thou himself answer this ---
What is that I can do to achieve your kiss?
I waited for you all night,
Helped you when the sky went black from white.

It’s okay If I don’t find your love,
Despite how deep I have dove,
I need you to answer these questions:
Is it me you ever wanted, or was it always you?

What is wrong in what I painted?
I said yes to everything you asked,
While this is what you masked,
A hate that forever will last.

Was this all to use me?
This is my final plea.
I did all that for our love,
Those sleepless nights for you to come.

Now it seems to me
you wanted me for your personal greed,
For when you were in need,
But now left me stranded,
After I gave you everything you demanded.

Is there any way for me to get you now.
Any dirt left to plow?
Let me do that too now,
What is that I have anyhow.

How do I stop loving?
How can I stop caring?
I love you too much ---
More than you could ever touch.

My eyes bulge out to escape
this tremendous crying,
My heart strains its muscles
to break the rib cage,
neither cared nor ever will,
it eludes from this turmoil,
day by day i watch my skin
sullied,
and those non-existent muscles
ailing as they drag throughout the day,
my bones are of dust,
now i feel as my body would appreciate a ever-lasting hug from
mother earth,
as her fingers glid through my ruins and feed nutrition
i would like to dissolve in this moment,
wholly all the flowers which grew upon me
will tell stories of me,
of a girl too young to breathe
so she kneeled.

oh,
how the tragedy speaks for itself with me in its arms.
It speaks about vile i let in and followed through life.
It gushes on given blood to a vampire It applauds me,
For venturing in woods,
Fighting with wolves,
shedding skin off for a family of cruels,
It repeats my sins over my dead body to make sure i remain buried.
I've lived in pages others skim through,
Pages where ink is bruised too,
all along i've been in a story that must be abolished through and through.
I could've been a sonnet of love,
memerising everyone to above,
yearning, longing for the ones i love
i gave myself to the above.
The times passed between my fingers,
As steadily sand passes through,
all alone i whisper
Will the life regret me too?