I am a cactus
my body covered in spikes
all I wanted
was a hug
but I hurt people
when they got to close
stabbing them with my spikes
it was never my intention
to wound them
but nevertheless
it happened
after I stabbed my loved ones
with my spikes
they left
and I was there
all alone
with an ache in my chest
I was so lonely
and I wanted a hug
but if someone tried to hug me
they got hurt
and left
I don't want to cause pain
but that is how I
was made
made to be destructive
and alone
I don't want to be this way
but what is a cactus
without it's spikes

I’m tired of being your shadow.
Wherever you are, I’m near.
I live at your dictation.
I’m chained by your sight here.

I used to live in silence.
To love, to suffer and no words at all.
If it hurts me, I bear without squirming.
If you only knew, how I want to bawl.

I’ve learned to be not certain,
Unheard, unnoted, noneself.
You see, I can be your shadow.
But I’m tired! I want to be myself!

dear you,

i fear i don’t know who i am anymore.
when i ask myself those very words, “who am i”, your name gets echoed through my bones like it’s mine too.
you’re no longer mine,
it seems my heart
and whatever’s left of my soul
refuses to accept it.

my soul keeps me half awake at night
still awaiting your call.
just awake enough to notice
if my screen lights up.

and my heart,
broken as ever,
holds on to the hope
that someday
you’ll want me again.

i think that hope
is what keeps it beating
and is why it’s not shattered
into fragments of
what we once were
what we weren’t
and everything we’ll never be.

I shivered, while you sat still—
across the room, laughing,
asking about my day,
buying me flowers.
My eyes would search,
x-ray through clouds,
to find you—
tall and smiling.

I shivered, while you sat still,
as the AC blasted,
lectures of the gods lingered.
I know you felt it too
when I walked away.
Lucky us—
distance bought fondness.

I shivered, while you sat still,
talking about our lives,
holding me through the night,
smiling at the sky,
watching the fireworks die.
It’s okay.
It might work out again.
The eleventh time is the charm.

I shivered, while you sat still,
next to your wife,
smiling—
and I finally froze.

The world enters
She holds a plate
Bows to the table
Where you just ate

“Someone nice to fall in love with?”
“Yea sure, why not?”
It's been a heavy meal
Your stomach is wrought

Fork stabs at the corners
Breading, bland and bleak
You miss the previous course
This is all just lard and leek

But you asked for this
It's time to eat
You opted in
For something sweet

Are sweet things
Not enough for you?
Do you crave the heat?
Of spice and rue

Those rich delicacies
Made you shatter and break
Let go of them now
And finish your plate

What you get now
And all there is to order
A small, simple circle
With a felt-tip border

A pillow to sleep on
A jumper to wear
Someone nice to fall in love with
If you even care

A light to see by
A melody to hum
Flowers that creep
Between apple and plum

A meal that is certain
A modest, tidy pie
Someone nice to fall in love with
If you give it a try

Mr. Bag Man,
Let go of your rucksack.

There’s only one carryon the bus will let you carry on,
Those bags will only slow you down,
My hand is here to pull you out,
Of the hurts from the past that haunt you.

Bag man,
You’ll hurt your back like that,
Dragging all those bags behind you.

Pack light.

They’ll only get in your way,
And make moving harder for you.

Mr. Bag man,
All you need is you.

Let me guide you to,
The new place designed for you.

Those bags will crowd you space.
Let go of them at a pace that works for you.

Mr. Bag Man,
Let go of those bags,
You’ll miss your bus like that.

If you can’t hurry up,
She’ll leave you at this stop,
with your stuff,
And you can’t miss this bus,
Another won’t wait for you.

It’ll be hard.
The past can hurt too much,
But let her love guide you.

Mr. Bag Man,
Let it go,
All you need is you,
And her love,
In this new place she’ll take you.

Peace is something to die for
To dive for
Deep into uncomfortable waters where confrontations swim quickly with sharp teeth of yesteryears hurts, scars and disappointments
To wrestle against the currents of emotional immaturity and pride in the deep and dark abyss of normalcy.

Hiding hurt in plain sight, veiled, covered up like dirt under the carpet so that no one can see the harm that has been done but never reconciled.
The narcissist within you thinks you know the reason behind everything you see or feel, you’ve already figured out a story where you’re justified and as for me, you say I should let it go.
Life is too short to relive old pain.

Your peace is a false god.
Your peace has won no battles , your peace has no scars , your peace is nothing but a curtain that hides the ugliness of human condition that you are not emotionally mature enough to process.
Your peace is the absence of conflict.
My peace is its resolve.
To stitch the wound
To mend the heart
To soothe the soul
Again, to start
Anew, with you to know you deeply,
To love you deeply.
If life is so short, then why are we waiting
To start again

Who's the psychopath,
Laughing his own cruel jokes?
It's all a crude game,
People's pain.
Oh, she looks OK,
Finally feeling some joy, Let me take that away,
Laugh when she's no more feeling OK.
She wonders what she did to deserve this.
Being the victim of you.
Now she's convinced she bought this on herself.
But little girl, you're innocent.
He feels he must hurt you.
Take the ground beneath your feet,
As soon as you start to heal, Shoots a detrimental thought,
That cuts.
She thinks she's his only,
We all think we're his favorite.
Just stay away from all of us.