I reach with outstretched hands towards
the tiers of a fading sky, with no words. And I
preach to myself to hate desperate plays.
I hide these tears by myself, dismayed
by my lack of worth. Oh, how it hurts...

To him, I flash for the flavor of friendship
feeling forever fine in my fleeting eyes.
Over him, I’ll get a grip and still trip
around the land just for his hand.
It doesn’t matter who is near,
with him, I have no fear and no tears.
My wishes are as hot glass
when he molds, he holds and folds
my prayers with his wants no matter how old.
Through everything I stay,
for these desperate plays.

To her, I head, head over heels
hoping her happiness hears my heart.
For her, I race to become better.
So gracefully, I craft an arrow to start
piercing the evils that set us apart.
I wade through brooks as a crook,
looking for how to fall deeper on her hook.
I lie, I cry, I die with her, parting
anything between us. We can never depart,
she is my restart, she is my art.
Her attention outpaces any meal,
it’s shocking as eels, that she kills,
steals, my hurt for sheer thrill with sheer will.
And yet she heals. She heals with watts
that work to change my energy so powerfully.
Through everything I stay,
for these desperate plays.

In cords and ribbons;

she does not speak.
People don't know whether to
scoff, or to pity, both maybe.
Yet she continues,
her tongue clicking,
her hands swift and nimble,
as she cuts up her little heart
and neatly wraps each one
into a package with a small,
small love letter.

Simple words, straight forward
and easy to decipher, with
meaning so plain and tangible.
Her tongue clicks, words still
quiet, her fingers folding the envelope
so delicately. Scissors lay on the table,
for cutting bits and pieces of herself
into each small package.

She hopes, with the light of a candle
and a flicker of a match stick,
that people would notice
her silent devotion.
Would not scoff, nor pity.
Hoped they'd smile and laugh,
as they read each part of her;
saw each part of her;
noticed each part of her—

that were all in cords and ribbons.

When walls become your imprisonment,
A no win scenario with a raging sickness,
You miss your camera capturing snapshots of life passing by.

You are one in a collective of people, holding each other metaphysically to barricade the vulnerable, this is more than just you.

You pace, you pass time, and you precise your ideas of freedom,
You may even do a painting or two,
A Tik Tok while the clock ticks.

Reflections of your most inner turmoil surface,
Pressures of life continuing with you boxed and it builds
Deadlines
Deaths
Destability

When you just can't take it any more,
You bash against the door, striving for that one touch, one feeling of hope you will break free of the airborn seel

The door opens

One

Point

Five
is  sprayed on your steps, and in your mind.

You would  do everything to chase the sunrise as it greets you again

A broken heart beat is all that keeps me
Keeps me in my flawed thoughts
I cannot handle any of it any longer
Decide my time is up, but I seem to say that a lot
Stuck in this loop of deciding to leave but never being able to step outside of my mind and into the unknown
Decide to stay, but not because the flawed parts of me are gone
Stuck in a scary middle between desperately longing to wake up dead and not being able to bring myself to do what I’ve wanted to for so long
Decide to stay in a world I will always want to leave

Black haired brown eyed boy, you don’t know  what you do to me
How you twist up my insides every time you talk to me
You have the cadence of my heart beat increasing to the point where i should be in cardiac arrest
Contemplating giving my heart a rest
Go a few hours
Don’t respond to your texts, telling myself it’s for the best
God i missed you but constantly diss you so you can’t be the one who leaves
Go a few days
Battling with my brain to not break down or to sound like anything less than the girl you’d love to be around
Go a week
Think i’m on the brink of insanity
Palms sweating, fingers trembling
My phone venom
Proximity’ll lead to shock but i don’t care ‘cause you’re worth it
Your presence ******, i’m a drug addiction for your attention
Ripping and picking through conversations like searching for a needle in a haystack
There’s the chance of being pricked, but i’m still in search of my next hit
The jitters consumed me
My feet toe-tapping a typewriter etching tales of an unrequited love story
The setting’s gory
A girl in her room 3:30
Anxiety raining upon her, her mouth a desert, wind blowing through her wide-open window, her cognitive abilities clogged
An intruder sneaks in, stabbing all sense of reason into silence
A frenzy about to commence
Word ***** falling and forming paragraphs
Hovering over a luminous screen, one touch of a small blue button cementing her destiny

Some are like caged hens
banging there heads on the
        metal metaphors of desperations.

Non confirmative to the needs of seclusion,
as they were once free range.
           The eggs of doubt and walking in
secluded circles,
                 can drive one to
desperation!
or even to the moment of silence.

We all are meant to be free range,
             and now were battery hens,

running out of charge..

I want someone to come and save me.
I wish for someone to come and save me from myself.
I hope that someone comes and saves me. I hope.

Cause I’m my self’s worst enemy.
Cause I can be my own nemesis.
But not my own savior. Not that. That I cannot be.

I cannot be Him. I don’t believe. Don’t know how to.
To be honest I never learned how to do so.
Faith. That’s what’s been missing from my life all along.

Intellectual by nature. A child of science. A lazy philosopher chatting mindlessly endlessly about anything.
A mixture of perverse logic coupled with an over-the-fence sexuality.
That’s who I am. That IS my history. An animal of society. Someone out of control.

Some nights, I lay here waiting God to take my soul as I drift to sleep.
And others I make a mess out of myself and of others through my outrageous behavior.
Never being sensible. Always a step beyond what other people think of me. Surprise! Gotcha.

Things got so messed up for me since the day I was born here. Trauma. Confusion. Questions. Crisis.
Don’t know who I am. Don’t know who I want to be. Don’t know anything.
Who can solve the everlasting mystery of my life if not me?? Exactly. Nobody can and nobody will.

I have no destination or grounding point in life. I’m so lost. Oh God help me!
Don’t know how to put the leftover pieces of my broken self, back together again.
I’m ****** to live a life of misery and a life of mystery. An endless dark meaningless (I’m tempted to say) black hole in my heart surrounded by supernovas and neutron stars.

Who can fix me? Who can put me back together? Who can make me feel whole again?
Cause I don’t know a **** thing. I never knew. Even if my mouth moved a lot in the past.
Now who can save me? Does anybody can? Do you? Huh? I’m talking to you brother!!

“I can and will save you. My child you have no other option but to walk the righteous path once again.
You will see. You will begin to breathe again. You will begin to feel alive once again.
You will at last get to know how it is to be a part of this marvelous universe”

Empty promises! Hollow words! Half-hearted remnants of an old man’s monologue!!
Who are you to speak my destiny? God?? Show yourself! You imbecile!
How do you dare to question the tentacle-like hands that mother fate has put on my predetermined future???

I never was anybody! I am not anybody! I ‘m just nobody and I don’t want to be something more!
My existence gets verified by my low self-esteem. I want nothing more. This is enough for me!
Leave me alone! There’s only one thing I hope though. “I hope that someone finds me and saves me before it’s too late.”