"Thought I found a way, a way out, but you never go away...
So, I guess I gotta stay.
Isn't it lovely, all alone, heart made of glass, my mind of stone, tear me to pieces, skin and bone."
"Somethings on my mind, Need to get out my headspace..."

Tear me to pieces, rip me apart, kiss me slow, hold me down, and touch me low.
Feel the flow. Gradually pulling you towards me.
Holding you close. Take me out of my head space.
I don't know what feels true.
Let me crawl inside your veins.
Hide you away, lock you up in my treasure chest.
Keep you, you're mine.
Take my wall down, let's do the unthinkable, I think I'm ready...
I learnt to lose, can't afford to anymore.

I was taken hostage
By my own mind
Till I lost it
Use to be blood In my veins
Now my heart pumps Pain
My Soul was a source of peace
Now it's a lost piece of me
Each breath gets heavier
It's an increasing burden
Without any barrier
I am handcuffed to myself
Lost the key
Now, I'm no where
And If you do care
Remember me
I may return someday
Maybee.

i hate sitting a foot away from you and
not being able to look at you.
i hate not talking to you,
but i think the constant closeness
is lonelier than the silence.
i hate being tortured like this,
tortured by the fact that you are right there,
so close that i could reach over and touch your sleeve
but i can't have you.
i know how ridiculous it is,
to want the one person
that just keeps breaking me,
but i won't lie and say
that i haven't grown use to the countless ways
you have made me hurt.
you have taken everything away from me.
my happiness,
my motivation,
my heart.
you even managed to take my mind hostage.
everything reminds me of you.
i can't listen to music or write or read or dream
without you running through my thoughts.
it's not like you ever really left in the first place,
but whose fault is that?
of course it's mine
since you apparently can't be blamed for anything.
at this point, my memories don't even belong to me anymore,
they're yours.
everything that you've ever been a part of
has been shut away in this box labeled
"her."
in a feeble attempt to erase you
from the recesses of my mind.
but erasing you means erasing parts of me
that i can't live without.

None of these verses are authored by me...
My brain's being
held hostage by
a couple of thieves.

They drain me of images
and words every night...
They're so thuggish
I won't even dare
to put up a fight.

They tell me if I'm good
they'll expedite my release...
but now I'm on my knees
begging them please.

I have some deadlines
coming up soon
I need to touch-up some paintings so they
don't look like cartoons.

But the conspiracy plays out,
the plot thickens....
they won't let me refuse.  
These wanna be poets,
my demanding hand and
a partner...the pencil, its Muse.

I met a hostage on the plane.

My gaze brushed his as I glanced up from my reading. Grinning, his ample chin jutted toward the vacant middle seat. Reluctantly, I stepped into the aisle as he jostled his carry-on into the overhead bin.

His glasses, slightly askew, were plotting their escape.
His thin short hairs stood in a half ring around his head, a defeated army ready to surrender to old age.

“You’re the only one here who appears to be thinking”, he proclaimed,
puncturing my last hope of solitude.

For the next four hours, words spilled out of the hostage’s mouth.
Sometimes they gushed and other times they trickled.
I received them with the grace of a child accepting Grandma’s hand-knitted sweater on Christmas morning.

His soliloquy was punctuated only by greedy gulps of premium airline Wifi.
After a few swallows, the stench of Fox News was hot on his breath.

“I hated law school”, said the hostage.
“I studied philosophy as an undergrad and absolutely loved it. All this legal stuff is so dry and boring.”

“Then why are you doing it?” I asked, simply.

“Because I’m afraid.”

I stepped off the plane with a silent hope:
that one day, he would be free.