I find you in a room of a hundred walls where you can’t find yourself. You presume you too can find me, but I can’t feel it. I move my feet towards you and scream:
“I EXIST. YOU EXIST. I EXIST. YOU EXIST.” But you don’t seem to slightly hear me. Your eyes still pitch black, darker than the night but glittering and shimmering brighter than a million constellations. Does that indicate a near burnout? Or are you still in the process of combustion? Maybe you’ve exploded many light years ago but the aftermath is still demonstrating in your eyes fierier than ever.

“Insignificant.” You mumble.
“I exist, you exist.” I weep.
“I exist, you exist. But do exits exist?” you smirk, and I no longer want to exist.

I sit, in my prison of fears, dreams, hopes and consequences thinking,
I am thinking about my life, but most  importantly, what I want and desire. Tonight my thought is of you, as I look back and ask why? Why do I care, why do I feel, and why did I give my true love and honour.

In better times, you were the symbol of fun, new hope, and excitement.
I laughed a bit more, taste the fruits just a bit better, and saw the colours a bit brighter as excitement ran through my veins. I remembers days conversing about everything and nothing, exploring each other's favorite music, dance, style, and humour.

I grown to trust as a friend and romance as a prospect as I seen bits and pieces in you that I have not seen in others. As comfort set, so did fear and anxiety of the next chapter. It hindered, broke, scared, and hurt us. We experience forces that successfully broke us out of envy and jealousy of our closeness. Half the times we were stronger, other times, weaker as other people painted green while we only saw mud brown.

I spent many upbeat nights , dancing in my mind the beauty of the friendship and the words once said, and many nights crying, for the pain and hurt that is inflicted.

I will always not understand everything, especially the small magic that occurred as sometimes I feel insignificant to the only person I feel who is the most significant.

For the first time, I held the hand that shaken, cleaned the tears of confusion and pain, and gave only from my soul and heart, because I  just know it felt right. I watch every time unneeded, I become again void as once again I am imprisoned under negative energy and mirrors.

Always looking to cracked the bad mirror to prove the beauty and love within me, asking for a glare of notice, because as every day unfolds, I have a basic feeling of deep admiration and love solely on the history and fantasy combined we created. And I have no fear as the worst always have happened, leaving deeper in sorrow.

I realize I am a failure, not because I fail, but I found a reason to refuse to fail, as my stubborn heart persists and my mind fights. Despite the exposure of love and acceptance, for each positive influence I experience, I cannot fully appreciate as I wait for the perfect connection between what I admire and my self-reflection. When I promise to cross waters without swimming, taking hits without shields, and stopping time to fulfill my integrity, I meant it deeply as I have already executed my words.

Many times that I have drowned, shot by criticism from within and afar, broke past self budgeting, and surpass my expected limitations, I just know would do it all over again just to reflect on my mistakes to give a better story. It is my creed.

I may be a fool in many eyes, but finding a diamond with so many colourful flaws is very rare to me, and cannot be duplicated in effort or by chance. Seeing someone hold your hand as I wrapped in cold quietness is my pain, as I run out of ideas to bring forth the smile I have seen before, and the meaningful tears of love I once heard. If you were  colour, you are that shade of violet. Very loud, misunderstood, never available in most settings, but yet the shade that always sang to me.

Crucify me for being an idiot for loving, as I stand by whom I chose as my twin flames of friendship. I miss you because I have too. Some days I am glad I met someone who taught me that I could love for real, and some days I regret demeaning myself. I am guilty by creed.

As i always say, you given me spontaneous energy , in which gave my life some flavour beyond salty-boring. This here, what I am saying now, is just another random of spice to add to the ***, but in deep honesty, this is farther from the truth of randomization. I have written this starting from months ago, only in heart in mind, only to be transposed as words today.  I plea insanity, I plea the fifth, but I plea for recognition as I am guilty of melting by your presence. I refuse to walk the lines of this magic as a failure.

I offer my heart, eyes, soul, wisdom, fruits and prospects, just to see the smiling thanks and admiration I saw before existence of my deeper prison. Let me drink a cup of java and dance the floor of reality one day, and I promise the music will be more than moderately dismal. Within many days, we could choose to flour that pasta, and dip it into the sauce I prepared slowly. Let's ad-lib some more words into a book, and see what the sunset really looks like. With all of me, Peace.

Thomas~

Stop!  
I said, Stop!
Stop your lies
Your Fake Smile
that fake gold in your eye
Stop!
I said, Stop!  
you across the line
Our Love
no longer exist
you are dismissed
you make me sick
I have to resist
your toxic kiss....


By: ZainaMusic

"To exist in this world one must know pain.
Because to exist is to suffer."

I invest too many hours creating scenes with words bigger than my imagination. Articulating a grand scheme of vividly painted phrases sculpting the workings of a surreal scenario. Practicing pristine implementation of descriptive speech for God-like abilities to plant emotion. Patiently calculating the steps from beginning to eternity; from birth to infinity.

The deconstruction and reconstruction, razing and elevating, of rewrites cycle through an incessant reel. Connecting bits of frames with no correlation and binding their frayed edges to author an insatiable, perfectly disorganized, cinema streaming through cracks of my consciousness. Hinting at the exception; drawing my attention from the tangible existence before me.

Losing lovers,
Losing friends,
Losing everything I am.

How do I exist independently?


F.Z.**N

If someone thinks its Wednesday but its Tuesday
Technically it is Wednesday not Tuesday to them
Because days are a human creation and they don't have name
And so when someone believes its a day
To them it can be that day
Because days don't exist.

Boorishly ****** into this diabolical world.
Parturition coerced from the amicable surrounding walls.
Fostered by what is a poor excuse of society.
Thereafter, and maybe preceding, all is fear.
Mortal until the day to meet thy maker.
...And in between? Alas, it is choice.
What shall it be? One of two, so you must resolve.
To exist, letting darkness cloak all, and fear be your consolation.
To live, fighting off the vexatious blanket of death, welcoming light to warm your soul.
Both are equally fought for in this insolent age.
Yet who are the victors? I will tell you, my friend a secret, a thought if you will....
How is there such thing as victor if there is nary a challenge?
It is told: accept the challenges so that you may feel the exhilaration of victory.
So, is the choice of dark and light that perplexing?
In essence, there is only one way to live.
The other is only a meager existence.
All face such this decision,  oblivious to the simple fact that no challenge lay within existing.
There is only a fight in choosing to live.
Make a choice, and with that...
So Be It