I tried strumming the strings of a broken guitar,
I tried rebuilding a city back up from its ruins,
I tried singing the words of a distant lullaby,
But had I known once a rose has tipped its head
Watering it would become useless;
I would've left our love's broken pieces
For the wind to come and sweep away.

A good ship doesn't sink
And bailing water only lasts so long
Fix the hole rather than bailing water

♥웃
Sticks
        and  
            stones
           may
      hurt
  my
bones
     but  
          words  
          will
     ALWAYS
   break
me.

What piece to move next!
Contemplating if I should pick the short route or
the longer, more rewarding one
Twisting into the middle of the board
Where the candy castle lies

About to wave the white flag
But so close to the freedom
The castles right there!
Look at the kids - this game frees them

Laughing without thought
Smiling without pain
So sweet for the time
Too lethal to stay

After much thought
I throw my hands up and say
"I surrender"

I catalog events with a subtle, ulterior pretense
Describing the notorious infamy in all the events
And anything characterized, inspiring, and bold
Makes a story unfold in the real time it's told
I am snowblind and need defibrillation to wake up
Either my heart turned cold or has simply had enough

The ferry fan dreamboat has only so inadequately found
That as I feel my orienting response record the time down
It is not truly me who was looking around
Though I can pinpoint the exact moment that I drowned
The only lingering product of me absolutely remaining
Is the aftermath of my angina so ever restraining
Never complaining until the sound of the trigger
Then I'll be adamant to describe that noise with vigor
Though rigorous it may be, I will try, I might even with some tact
And let you in one last time presenting only fact.
I stepped away and left this place while presently in line
The sentence was one more time for the last time
And then you said goodbye

I was watching all the while a vapor on the scene
And I felt myself lose oxygen with no production in my spleen
My blood does not perfuse in that bilateral moment of blame
How can I let asystole clamp and constrict my cowed red vein?
How could I dilate the cause of my shame?
How could I love my life in the rain?

The simple reason I was experiencing tinitus...
I found out all connections were lies
Like a manufactured virus
Love was a prescription with doses written in ink
With no distinction and no response I could not think
With no recompense or recognition I felt my larynx shrink

I was only dumbfounded so I took to my reflexes
Handpicking a numb tendency to fill my recesses
But it only drains you and me and leaves a hole behind
I'm nowhere near magical so it's power cannot rewind
If so inclined I'll tap my spine and steer it all back
But I don't feel you anymore
*Only this heart attack

I’ve been thinking about what to say for a couple of weeks, long before my birthday, and yet I still cannot articulate the words that I really really want to say. I know that we aren’t friends anymore and that we don’t talk anymore, but still I would’ve thought that after so many years of friendship and after everything that we have been through, you would’ve text or called or something for my birthday. In my mind, I thought that what we had, the bond that we had shared was stronger than that. Despite everything that had transpired. Even though we were not talking, I still wished you a happy 18th birthday. I knew that that was a milestone for you, I knew that it was a major occasion. I swallowed my pride, even though I was still extremely hurt and mad at you. I did that and against better judgement will still continue to do that, because believe it or not you are still the first person I think to tell things to. You are still the first person that I reach to call whenever things in my head are going to ****.
Last week, I was at A&T; with one of my friends Britni and for some reason, I started going down memory lane. Friday, it started with looking through my Instagram and then onto yours and then to my very old account. I then moved to Facebook, looking through all of our stupid videos and pictures. Then I ventured to your mother’s account. And as I swam deeper and deeper into the memory pool that mainly consisted of us, I got sadder and sadder and sadder. First it started off one eye tear stream and then I got up and walked to the bathroom and my vision became blurred with our smiling faces and mascara burning its way down my cheeks.
Even now, I am sitting in a stairway contemplating sending this to you or just saying, “**** it, she doesn’t care about you anyway”, and proceed with my original plan of getting drunk tonight with you on my brain. But I don’t know, maybe I need to send this, get all of this off my chest like my therapist says. Maybe sending this to you will help me sleep more, maybe it will help to let go of the past. I really don’t want to cry anymore. I really don’t want to keep waking up in the middle of the night thinking of you. Pathetic I know, because you don’t feel the same.
You don’t have to respond, it’s okay.
-Nai
(21/11/2015)

She sat down
I put the page in front
She merely stared
And painted a sea with teardrops on the shredded wood.

I passed along,
Pencil, charcoal, all that needs free
She sniffed, 'Better?' she said,
'I will feel better?'

Taking up her shivering white pencils
Of thin frail fingers, gripping graphite
Scratch, scratch, like a cat
Wanting to leave a locked room

The grey became black
The dust became mountains
And, she saw in here her life
As the clouds became rains

'But look', I put in
'Look what suns I make,
With a caring hand' I
Pushed a finger into the depths

A sunny print came out

Lisping, she rasped her breath back
And put a hand to the black dirt of the breaking
And made a hand-print;
Simple, like her delight

'You will learn to make
Suns of the shadows,
You will learn to make
Smiles of the silences

Your lines will be straighter
Your circles more graceful,
More curved to your *****
More jagged, if you wish.'

I smiled and she nodded
And watched her last tear fall,
Splashing down with tidal forces of sorrow on the page
An artist was born.

With every affirmation
My tongue trips over the unspoken  
Unrequited acceptance of current circumstance
My submission is insulting
Unbelieving, you see my lowered eyes as an attack
Belly up
I am confused
Unsure of what movements are appropriate
Frozen, doe-eyed and exhausted from the constant dance
Do I bow
Do I speak
Merely acknowledging my emotions
Sends shockwaves through the tentative peace
I was not built for this
A goddess prostrated
Stripped of her very core
Caged and chained
But it is almost as if my very attempt to accede
Is a declaration of war
What kind of existence is this
Trapped between personage and possession
My only purpose is to please.
Allow me.