I Feel, therefore I am.
We cannot understand.
Only be.
Free.
From: Me
At times, I'm not a man.
Hate pours through my veins.
Somethings, we cannot change.
I've had enough, it's just too tough.
I need a better brain.
Life is short, and then you die.
Red-tape, it lines the silver sky.
Hold to hope, and soon you'll find,
The reason why I write this rhyme.

I think and I thought
I weep in my dear thoughts
What have I done
What could have been
I lay in regrets on a single mistake

It was a day like any other
Coffee in the morning
Feeling the warmth of the sun, in my face

I was in battle for days
A battle of currencies
A battle of endurance
A battle in which, I am getting drained
My mind is tired
My body is weaken
My thoughts are in disarray

With a click of a mouse
I have lost it all
With that click of a mouse
I have fallen down
With that click of a mouse
I felt a slash in my heart
That hurts like nothing I ever knew
With that click of a mouse...
I have became nothing but a rotting log

As they say,
When it rain, it pours
Today, hard as I tried to stand again
I never could
The clouds thunder
The lighting strikes
I have became nothing but a rotting log, soaked in mud

The skies are grey
The end is not in sight
The pain is beyond my threshold
The pain is killing me slowly
I feel suffocated
Suffocated with failures
Months of success, undone by a single click

I can only hope, I can get up again
I can only hope, the sun rises
I can only hope, I can only hope

We've barely felt the sun rays
When the shadows took over
I've let you hold this heart
But you just let it shatter.

Shaken and battered is the ground
Where the roots spread and grow
Wind, quake and hurt bound
Breaking in a single blow.

You asked for anything,
I gave you everything instead,

You asked for just a tissue,
I gave you my favourite hanky instead,

When I asked for anything,
You gave me nothing instead,

I gave you more than my infinity,
You gave me nothing more than lies instead.

Life is like a battlefield
it could hit you mentally, emotionally or physically
days when you feel angry
manipulated
discombobulated
like you originated
in a world that is meant to confuse
about the rules
like a rat race
where you are tryna to find your place
how can I define what is mine
so I can refrain
from feeling disdain
about things that will make me feel pain
and make me cry
because they were never mine
how can I refine
so I do not get denied
So I can feel useful
and not feel useless
clueless
ruthless
asking myself every chance I get
what is going on?
all I want is for it to go on
I mean life!
all I want is for it to go on…..
like the picture in my head
it isnt perfect, not at all
its not like I want it all
just a chance to make the call
to make a way
and see a day
a chance to win this race
moving at a steady pace
so I can define the gravity in which..
I exist.!
but..
I am not done
there is more to this, than this.

We walked in and you were groggy
Laying in bed.
I wanted nothing more than to lay with you.
But instead I sat on the floor, pretending to admire the ceiling.

How ironic that you were wearing my favorite shirt of yours
White with blue and orange stripes.
It's the only thing about that evening that went as I had planned.
And even that was short lived.

Hayden felt at home and I felt alone.
Mike was somewhere in between.
I couldn't tell if you were surprised that I was in your room.
Maybe you were too tired to think.

But I wasn't.
So I sat there, next to the poster of Fergie
Pretending to admire the ceiling
Wondering if you'd let me clean the cobwebs in the corner.

It was a beautiful ceiling
Intricate and gold.
I couldn't imagine your room being any other way.
Fergie's *** was rubbing it in my face.

I followed everyone downstairs
they were waiting for a movie
but I was waiting for you.
I was afraid you had gone back to bed

You changed your shirt but didn't bother to fix your hair.
I like white button-ups
but not as much as the stripes.
You have very boney knees but I don't mind.

I wished I could say something clever like I  normally do.
But I just can't when I'm around you.
My thoughts were wasted or already used by someone else.
That was humiliating.

You wanted to drive with us to my house.
But you didn't bother put shoes on.
We held eye contact and it looked like you forgot how to smile.
That was the highlight of my evening.

"This house is beautiful"
was the first thing I said.
Hayden said something like "It's old as hell"
And you both went on to joke about the ghosts that built it.

Disappointment is thrown strongly at my direction.
Blame gathers in large quantities like a pest infestation.
"It's your fault" and words like "You always make mistakes" evoke anger.
Anger which I want to take out on myself and take out on others.
I can excel in my work of choice, I know I'm more than average.
The bad gets pointed out more and little praise is given for the good.
Stunned by unmoving words. I'm like a prisoner sentenced to jail, released and expected to do worse.
Destruction emerges from my enraged emotions, i wish your words could offer a solution.
I want to be an alchemist and turn things into gold.
It's ironic how I am a creator of words but cant create better words in my critics.
Conversations lead to arguments because i want to be heard.
I'm sick of revolving doors, sick of being slammed by your atrocious comments.
"You have no common sense" you say to me, maybe I just prefer to be in a daydream, my mind drifting away because life is too dull.
Realize that what you say has an effect and that effect can drive somebody or stop them in motion.

This bed seems so huge,

                                 so wide

                             and yet here we lay

                               like  we're

                oceans away

                          in the Mediterranean

        *spaced-out from each other,

                 your so far from me.

                            We're spent,

                                  in deliberate denial,

                                                 unfinished or satisfied

                                                            wit­hout words,

                        without understanding,



                                   we hold onto our lacerated heart's,

                                          giving in  the only way known

                     carnally,unabated & undoubted

    least in the carnal way.

                              I crave the unknown,

to be explored like never before,

                                        to be made whole

                                             and touched within my soul,

                                        where my body ignites

                         from the inside out.

                                                    I'd like to know

                                    what it'd feel like to be

                                                            ­ consumed

                                                     ­                   by  "Love's"

                           ­                                                         * lustful ******

                                                        ­         more than the

                                                  heat of passion,

                                 in such a way

                               which leaves me quaking,

                                               shaking, quivering

                                         and yearning for more.

                          Once we've spent our

     feverish attempts

             on last-night's seductions,

under a moonlit sky,

                                I'm left inexorable,

                                       as my body spasms,

                                                        ­         longing for more than

                                    what the flesh attempts to give.

                                            I'll argue against the pejorative

                               illusions of our love making,

                         which deludes my mind

                                             to believe this is what

                                               it means to have

                                  "Love's" acceptance

                          without the actuality's

                                 of loving me....

           We were intoxicated-

                               with wonderment

                                                  as we explored

                                         one another,

                                                 yet
                                                  "Love's"

                                   *touch nor "Love's"

              *inspirational caresses

                                 & soulful idealization's

                                             were present.

                      It never enter that room,

                                            sedately I felt a

                           magnificent release,

                                             * yet I'm still longing for

                      "Love's" fulfillment

                          *and for you to concur

                                         my deepest emotions,

                              as you'll ****** deeply

                                             within my velveteen walls.

                                  * I'll moan,

                            crying out for what's

                                             *about to come

                         and for that

                     moment we'll be one.

                         But only within

                that moment

      because you

             know as well

        as I do

              that "Love's"

                       making such

            a Fool of me!

                  * Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®
                *K.A.C.L.N ©
                 All right reserved ®

                   *Copyright 1977 - Present ©