I love to watch you sleep, how at peace you are.
For only a brief stay from toil.


Perhaps you dream of taming lions or basking in your garden ? Or perhaps making love to your bride ?

I pray for one brief moment dream of being a man of sated need.
No more demand from ruler or man.
A free man of peace.


You will wake at tomorrow’s dawn to once more beat the workers class plowshares.

I love to watch you sleep.

I weave words into woods
and forests of dreams
feeding your fear with stories
of giants and beans
stalks and straws
cracked golden eggs
scrawny fingers
a glass eye and
wood for a leg
to aid your sleep
come werewolves and bears
ghosts and ghouls
for a nicer nightmare
so come now hither
come to the deep
and dream
a dream my dear
if you dare to sleep

You drowned me in a whirlpool of emotions, engulfing
me in the exhilarating sensations of falling in love.
It felt so vivid, like stepping into another realm of
consciousness where the boundaries between reality and
fantasy blur.

Perhaps, it could have been yet another *******, an
intoxicating experience that thrived in the depths of
my subconscious. And amidst this haze of desire,
life appears like a pristine white sheet, evoking a sense of
responsibility to keep it unsullied and untarnished.

Like a diligent custodian, I struggle to navigate the
complexities and challenges that threaten to soil its
purity, to maintain its pristine condition.

mother, i hope you understand that i have my own path to take. i can hear your voice reaching through the halls of my mind, pushing me to follow in your path and be the one to carry the flame of your unfulfilled dreams. but, dear mother, i beg you to realize that my desire is entirely unique to me; they are a symphony of hushed voices that sing to the pulse of my existence.

i want to chase the palette of my grail. i seek to paint the world with the vibrant hues of my imagination and draw a future that reflects the depth of my soul and the beauty of my own dreams. your ambitions have cast a shadow over mine, and the manner in which our tales collide has suffocated the burning spark that dwells within me. i have an intense thirst to be able to look at the world through my own prism and to walk along the road of my heart's desire without the shadows cast by yours. i am begging you to listen to my words because they are burdened with the weight of a soul that longs to be set free.

mother, allow me the ability to roam; i want to experience the thrill of venturing into the unknown and determining my own path. i beg you to release me from the chains of expectations, for my soul craves the ease to move with no boundaries within the boundless horizon of possibility. give me room to breathe and a chance to uncover the layers of my own existence without the burden of your hopes and ambitions. let me have the freedom to find my way through the labyrinth of being alive, to trip, fall, and get back up on my own pace. please spare me the unrelenting storm of judgment and control that washes the color out of my entire existence.

how can i be open in front of others when i feel like i can't breathe because of your suffocating grip? i can't let out the complex web of emotions i've been feeling because you're always holding me back. how can i let others in, if i can't even let myself be vulnerable around you?

i am sick and tired of living in the shadow of your expectations;

i am begging you my whole life to please at least—
at least, let me create my own story and be the writer of it.

or perhaps your dreams would be the death of me.

there's a letter, forgotten on the shelf.
to the unknown lover.
to the one i lost.
to the one i dreamed up on a sleepless night.
to the one who haunts me like a ghost.
to the one that never bothered to call.
to the one that simply wasn't right.
to the one i hurt.
to the one who broke my heart.
to the one who forgot.
to the one i imagined my future with.
to the one who slowly drifted apart.
to the one with the sweetest goodbye kiss.
to the one that i thought was the one.
there's a letter, forgotten on the shelf.
to the unknown lover.
to the one who left.