Never ask me that question again.
Defying the body. Original sin.
Don't press the issue. Don't press your luck.
I would much sooner choose fight than choose ****.

Stacking the cards. Cooking the books.
Cry in the shower to cleanse ***** looks.
Slurp up your earnings. Feast on deceit.
Nibble on scraps while they're dining on meat.

Call out for help. Pity can save.
Swallow the fact that you're branded. Depraved.
**** for your honor. Fight for your life.
Take back what's yours by the edge of the knife.

Eat all the forces opposing your way.
Sometimes brutality's what saves the day.
Garnish their corpses with spite and rejoice.
Feed your desires like you had a choice.

Ever loved someone so fiercely that it makes them pack away and run?
The smothering intensifies
In turn they thirst for distance.

Though it was never your intention you just always crave their presence,
You annoying little ****.
Ruining love since adolescence.
❤

If you don't believe
that the world can turn
into a Hobbesian-state,
then find a wall
& stare at it until it hurts.
   You'll notice
        that the paint isn't dry
        & the picture will change
        with a single blink,
        fade with dry eyes
        & breathe when you want it to.
  You'll see a wall
  can be many things;
        It can move in a dream
        if you make it,
        or drape itself in mirrors
        & make you infinite,
        although trapped,
        staring at a wall
        & thinking of someone else,
        but only seeing yourself
        forever
        in every direction.

Whenever one lays their eyes upon us,
What is perceived is something that exists
Only at the peripheries of their mind, while
Things that makes us, us, are the opposite.

One would gasp in awe at someone's beauty,
Shiver in excitement about their courage and might,
Imagine countless friends and lovers they have;
How success is their husband and joy is their wife.

Surely, for them, talent blossoms like a flowers,
And everyone knows when and why they laugh, and joins;
And if they ever cry(why would they at all?),
More than one soothing arm awaits their call.

While what is unseen lurks beneath beholder's delusions,
Who wants to see what one envies most and searches for
In oneself in vain. As how they see us is the opposite
of us, true, but the opposite of themselves at the time as well.

I saw you little bird
And I told you to stop chirping
I saw you flying by little bird
And I told you to stop chirping
I’m not sure exactly what I’m doing wrong
But attempts are hardly working

I told you to leave little bird
I told you to leave and you kept coming
I told you to leave little bird
I told you to leave and you kept coming
You always follow me little bird
So I guess what’s the use in running

Now you’re still here little bird
You’re still here and I’m hardly moving
You bring me to tears little bird
But now your soft chirp is almost soothing
If you ran away little bird
I’d no longer know what I was doing

Pity: the fuel of self esteem;
a false sympathy,
never to help the other in need.
Instead a seed planted
hand crafted
placed within host
to disassemble ones self love
and feed for self, thereof.

It is indulgent.
Narcissistic, but worth it.
For the once dull glimmers,
the fire dies down,
smoke cloud; heat simmers.
Colours more varied.
Clicked in, pieces; in sync.
Cured of sickness,
no longer at the brink.

Can't you see it!
The sparrows, they sing!
On the fleeting branches of a dying spring.

The church bells, they ring!
Reverberating a solemn deference
our forgotten reference
my remembered past.


Don't look at me like that.
I ain't crazy.
I'm okay taking to feel this way.
I'm okay!
It don't bother me none.

You are free?
  
I am Free.

The same scene repeats itself
Once again i run away from my lover's debt

As i breath in your love, i exhale my lies
Am i wrongful to you with my duplicated life?

I will soon disappear and leave you with a letter.
I have to find my freedom, isn't that what really matters?

When will i conquer my cursed ability?
My talent to transform lies into a creative reality.

Is this true? i don't really know
In the end however, i shall die alone.


Words Of Harfouchism

We tend to separate monsters and men
Simplifying and beliving that such things can't happen again
But if we could only resurrect the dead
The sole answer would be "that's what we said"

We call abhorent acts of criminals "inhuman"
Thinking cruelty only comes from ******* men
But animals never threaten holocaust or world war
And even big brother was a child before

If engrossed in oneself
Life is one dimensional
Without emotion, catalysed by relations
And connections fortifying ones place
Life is meaningless.