everything feels so achingly far apart
my hands outstretched, grasping what once existed before me
time flies, they said—
but this much?
this fast?
so soon?

it was just yesterday,
or was it years and years ago?
when i was just a kid—
“when i was”—
where did that line come from?

it follows me,
creeping into my dreams,
where echoes lay
the cold sweat wakes me,
my words spilling
into the mouth of the toilet bowl

another day passes
where i try to do everything
but scream

i can't
do
the things that i want

this phone
it pulls
me in
and doesn't let go

so
i write
these poems instead

one day
ill find
the courage
to get out of my bed

_

I’ve slipped into a realm of love, ensnared by
yet another crush— no wet floor signs in sight!
Overthinking, deep thinking; I am adrift in an
ocean of thoughts— no life jackets in sight!
I’ve been a jug of emotions, constantly pouring
out my heart— yet these days, I offer only a cup.

These eyes, are crafted from paper, with all these
drawn-out plans— crinkled, and crushed!
Cast aside like a forsaken heart, unguarded by the
walls I used to bring up— please, don’t bring up my
reluctance to divulge too much— not much to say!

Just pinch me to the starkness of reality; I have
been tickled by the allure of dreams too much.

oh, the rush!...
that wretched dream
subdues me into a corner of the room,
as i endure myself -
through phases of quiet desperation.
there’s a gap i can’t seem to fill
with my words -
it’s quite a gap;
astronomical;
though feels as short
as but a step.
i was begotten a slave
to delirium
it didn’t hit me -
oh, no no -
it dawned on me.
it was, and still is,
conniving it’s way  
into the sanctity of my mind.
i often feel betrayed by it;
my mind, that is.
ah, what a treat it used to be!
shimmering with sprinkles of yesteryears,
and as sweet as endorphins -
the dream baking in it;
nice, and plum.  
back then, words had the
power to move me.
instantly -
for they were novel,
and as fresh as the scent of
the 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘢 cake i’d smell  
coming from the kitchen
when 𝘮𝘢𝘢 would be in a
rather generous mood.

now, it’s just words.

sometimes,

i dream that the meaningless, cycle of images,

Daring,

was put there for a purpose.

Rising,

as our minds and bodies developed.

Embarking,

we flew, our eyes lit with stars.

Anticipating,

as we found our passions, but

Melting,

when the world could not match our inferno.

Improving,

when there was nothing left but the ashes of our desires.

Navigating,

through the trials and tribulations of our hardships, and

Growing,

to learn to change what we thought was true, but unwilling to give up hope on a better future,

as if we were created to do more than what was accepted, known, identified, exemplified and created.

...but then again, i may just be

dreaming.

between the painful ****** of nostalgia from the past
and the hugs and dreams of fantasies from the future
there’s no room for you to live here
maybe if I evict my equivocal feelings
and start thinking less and saying more
at least you would have something you would want to respond too
without just replying to me out of pity
maybe then you would move back into my present
silly of me to think i could even pause time for a second
but I swear when i’m with you it’s like the world moves slower
but now I sit on top of the ordinary
and the world still spins without you here
the sun sets a little earlier
the birds still flock in sync, how they did yesterday
everything is still the same, but i look at the so normal world
with wistful eyes.
and i’ve drowned myself in sentimentality
not because I don’t know how to swim, but I just choose not too.
and as I navigate through this world without my muse
with potential as an artist, with dreams of a time traveler
I pray to stars and ask for a split second just to be with you again.

As I tried to sleep
The full moon is saying
Never more
Quoth the moon
As I have a nightmare
…..nevermore
When I have joyous thoughts
At night
Quoth the moon
….. Nevermore
When I sleep a stressful day away
Quoth the moon
……Nevermore!!!

I have a great many dreams,
Fierce passions in my heart,
In pursuit of each one,
My days and nights I part.
With every toil and endeavour,
I claim the fruits of strife,
And take my triumph home,
And rest on laurel's height.

I have a great many dreams,
Some within my reach I’ve clutched,
Others still lie in wait,
For my relentless pursuit.

I have a great many dreams,
Chasing all these dreams, I admit,
Can tire a soul, but still it's fun to win.
I persist, undeterred by doubt.

Is falling in love like dreaming – for I have tasted a mere pinch of
love, and I implore you, do not pinch me, and wake me up. My heart
dances like a brush upon the canvas of my flushed cheeks; I yearn not
to rush into this enchanting feeling, yet I find myself swept away in
this exhilarating feeling’s rush.

Like a lush forest adorned with vibrant canopies, I sense a love that is
both elusive and captivating—so wild is the sensation you evoke, as I
strive to quench my eyes thirst, for one more glimpse of you.

My emotions are splattered across the canvas, each stroke a testament
to the artist's longing; your aim must have been true, for this feels
nothing short of a masterpiece. I draw nearer to you, like that very
pencil, etching thoughts in my mind, desperate to articulate the
depths of my affections.

Tell me, is falling in love like dreaming – for I have tasted a mere
pinch of love, and I implore you, do not pinch me, and wake me up.
I quite enjoy being in love.