With the sun invested in your patience,
You get so cold when you are breaking
So silence and I exchange nonsensical chats
as silence waits to draw the curtains
and I wait for you to handover your ache
to my extended hand

My ship has sailed, but has it really?
There’s too much, too many of uncertain feelings
And the storm in the robes of a lamb

What is missed, does wet mean pleased?
Four-leaved clover, it’s over

My ship has sailed, I’m lost at sea
Or am I the sea, too large to see me..?

I wanted to care but I cared way too much
The way to nowhere, the rays you can touch
Burning bright, burning, burned over with grace

Bear with me, I’ll carry thee

You’ll be the ship
And I’ll be the waves
The waves, the waves

The protector of the commotion
Humor me, human slow as the wide oceans
Blue in the face that never gets too green
Inhuman remains hidden behind screens

Protective smoke and the mirrors
Mirrored to never get clearer

I wanted to be there, I was way too much
Getting there, got nowhere, the whole world to watch
The bright star to follow to forget starts

But bear with me, I’ll carry thee

You’ll be the ship
And I’ll be the waves
The waves, the waves

The ship, the waves, the golden shore views
The ship, the waves, the forever cruise

I wanted to care but I cared way too much
The way to nowhere, the rays you can touch
Burning bright, burning, burned over with grace

Bear with me, I’ll carry thee

You’ll be the ship
And I’ll be the waves
The waves, the waves

Bear with me, I’ll carry thee

Until you’ll be the ship
Until I’ll be the waves
Carry me always

You sow seeds of your life,

By your own self.

You wish that they survive,

Without others' help.


You put some water of affection,

And desire for a vibrant leaves collection.

You anticipate it show the true inner reflection.


You wish the plant to grow soon,

It peaks out and sees the brutality.

You take care of it in the blazing afternoon,

So that it doesn't adapts to the causality.


You wish it to grow into a sturdy brawny tree,

Which gives fruits and blooms flowers,

Which can be set free,

And is full of vie and power.


Once it's usual to the surroundings,

People come and go.

And say bad words cursily

The tree- it's morals go low.


The imaginations and expectations

All are failed.

Full of scars and suctions

You now sailed.

Back to - from where you came.

No guilt, no regret, no shame.

You think to earn more fame,

Making your life truly lame.


The tree without you died,

Because it had no hope.

Are you still capable to say "it's mine"

It is long gone.

Haven't set up an alter
In I dont' how many moons
The few times I tried
I truly knew the futility of it
And understood
That security, for me, is fleeting


Just another thing
That seems so easy for the others
Oh no dont applaud
My  baby brain  for its
Whining,ll just make it worse
So the other day after
I snatched the sage you left
For me outside your window sill
(Thank you btw)


I instinctively started
Making YET ANOTHER ALTER
Then broke down for the 5th time that day
"How could someone like you ever deserve a home"
Then I had remembered  
That Im not allowed to
Have a safe space

I'm a drifter
Pushing the limits
My health is at risk
Every minute
No one to care
Whether I die or live  

Sitting on my hands
In a thicket
Praying wishing waiting thanking
God that I woke still broken
Throwing up stuff
Everytime I tried to move

Hunger
Hurt
Thirst
Hate
Anger
Thankful
Stay low
on your toes
Heatstroke
Dryheave
Please No
Please make it stop
Oh god here it comes again
My Sweat drips endlessly
Chiggers bit my skin
So it wont quit itchin'

Bites that bother until next week
Typical....
All I want is a place to hang my hat
Or hopefully lay my head without trip wires surrounding
Me
All I want is to oggle my alter and call on my angels and my God
Without being on constant alert
Watching my own six

Bc your own brother will turn on you
Don't get comfortable
Dont relax
Dont unpack
Dont believe
A ******* thing they tell you
Prove me wrong then

Haven't had a mfr not turn
Haven't seen anyone actually keep their word

And why cant i set up an alter without it being destroyed?

the onion in father's hands didn't have time to cry,
with his fist punched it on the corner of the table, spread salt and
ate it with sheep's cheese,
(like the builders of the pyramids, my dad was paid in onions)

the onion in my mother's hands was sweet and made many leaves,
spring after spring she shared it throughout the village,
people were wondering: how does not bring tears,


every time I have an onion in my hand I think,
to clean it with my hands,
cut it with a knife, or
punch it with a fist,

the onion in my hands
is waiting

Optimism stands on my left shoulder,
And pessimism upon the other.

One screams,''**** yourself dumb *****!''
But the other whispers vise versa.