Hacker *****!
Ruining my life with your wit
And knowledge,
Lovely sound of real life expecting you...
Lovely, lovely.
How do you like my share of condescendence?
_Couldn't we simply understand each other? Children wishing for a better world. _

Oh, well! If you couldn't take me as your greatest admirer!

the heart of a poet
bleeds
an oozing darkness that no one
sees
enveloping him until he can't
breathe
as he screams at you to just
leave
so that he can be
free
from the pain that you cause
him

A coffin came my way,
They said, therein you lay;

I could believe them nay,
Until they said they could flay;

Wild I went,
I could not vent;

The expression remaining,
Before it started draining;

I was no longer composed,
I had to be dosed;

You were ethereal,
This had to be surreal;

No enmity could matter,
When everything had shattered;

You had been battered,
When you had me flattered;

I can not apologise,
You have been baptized;

I seek not your forgiveness,
I need not your liveness;

For you’ll always be,
Right here, in my heart;

I woke up, to find you gone,
For EVER in your zone..

I need not repent,
For I have your scent;

Your memories alive,
Shall always thrive;

You were one of a kind,
Never out of your mind;

It is not cowardice,
For it requires courage;

It shall not be despised,
For it was your suffrage..

A novelty.
Her love is pressed lilacs in your favorite book.
I’ve been in love with her an eternity of lifetimes.
If there was an I, there was a her somewhere too.
& the world needed it.
Needed her.


Her bipolar disorder makes her superman ice cream in Mid-July. The spectrum far wider than the napoleon we're accustom to. Emotions melting into each other like organized chaos. Then, converging into a supernova of empathy. An amplifier to all that is forgotten in our ability to feel. I wonder on some days how she can cultivate anything other than mania. Yet, she is more harmonic than Beethoven’s ninth symphony. Do you feel – do you feel the weight of the world, my love? Her world taste of colors. The rainbow of emotions seeping through every orifice of her body.


I’m reminded how much is lost in the translation.
How it must be to feel without a filter. Then, every cry over a stranger seems to be the somber pieces of humanity missing. A world lost in alexymethia – she is the sanity we’ve never known.