Tangle me in your web of desire.
May your passion light my fire.
Sharing secrets; with my secret admire.
Your piece of mind,
My quagmire.
Below the surface,
My hidden Sapphire.
Shooting starts;
Chasing tails.
Such a satire.
It's all good,
Until it backfires.

I am a collector.
Some would say I am good.
Others would say I am lucky.
A few who know me would say I'm a *****.

I couldn't care if I bang you.
I just want your number.
I'm just feeling the need to be better
Than everyone else.

To know I can get your girl, or that one over there.
My presence is bigger and I'm more important, you should care.
To know I could sleep with a celebrity's daughter.
The paparazzi would obviously look at me if they caught her.

Trust me, I can beat you at whatever it is.
I might be lying, A bluff; hit or a miss.
I've done someone like you before this,
A dozen times or more.

Bottom line ladies and gentlemen:
Know not just who I am,

I make myself look like a rogue and a roar
For fear of finding my role.
Collecting people and demanding more
Because I am afraid of who I am.

It's alright to be me.
I am nothing more.

I heard a woman singing in the car,
about being reborn as a peacock for Krishna
so that she could sit in beautiful penance for him.
While watching whizzing morning work trucks,
and beat-up corollas and motion blur,
I thought of you in the stillness of sleep.

If I were to be reborn I'd like to be a bird as well
so that I could provide the down in your pillow,
and be cushion to your carousel crown
But then I would be lonely when you go to work.

If I were to be reborn, I'd like to be your sunglasses,
so that I could protect your squinting eyes,
and live by your lushest lashes.
But then you'd lock me away in a case, and I won't be able to see you.

If I were to be reborn, I'd be a bracelet made of magic beads,
so that I could promise health around your often pained wrists,
and fix the freedom in your fiery fingers.
But then you'll probably lose me, or unstring me accidentally with time.

If I were to be reborn, I'd like to be your favorite puppy,
so that I could pacify your inner turmoils.
and be held by your human hands.
But then you'll possibly outlive me, and I wish to watch you grow.

If I were to be reborn, I'd be lonely, locked away, left, lost, and outlived-
so I'd rather stay in this life with all of my privileges
of providing, protecting, promising and pacifying
as your lucky lover.

I whispered this secret to the ocean, but it was rejected on the sand.
The pressure has become too thick for me to withstand.
The words have over heated, locked in the oven…well overdue.
The truth of this all may burn, but this needs to be heard by you.
An unquenched thirst in a drought…
My world has flipped around, completely inside out.

Before I could find the right words, I resorted to the dirt.
I buried this secret as the seconds ticked…only way to obliterate how much it hurt.
One day the clock stopped ticking, I thought it was well off buried; eminently suppressed.
Come to think of it, the ***** little secret was just compressed.

Constricting so tight I began digesting my lungs…
Nothing bothered me, because everything was numb.
So I replaced my eyes with reflectors from the sun,
My heart fell in lust with the concept of a dark place to run.

Grabbed my lucky charm and a parachute, with the intent to leave one at the ledge.
From the top of the cliff I jumped, just as I made my pledge.
If I were meant to fight this battle, I’d make it to the ground: free fall.
Lucky charm in hand, all dependent on fate’s call.

This is a tough war to face alone, but the last thing I want is sympathy.
Just asking if you’d have my back…if need be.
Pretty well off on my own, I don’t want any kind of hero,
But if you can handle it, meet me at ground zero.

If you’re happy,
then you're the lucky ones.

If you don’t think of death day after day,
then you're the lucky ones.

If you have someone that loves you back,
then you're the lucky ones.

If you can feel your heartbeat inside your chest,
then you're the lucky ones.

Because the rest of us,
we’re dead inside.

We’re the sad ones
and the lonely ones.

We're the ones
that cry ourselves to sleep at night.

We're the ones
that dread life day after day.

We're the ones that watch you,
jealous that you're not us.


                                    j.z.