so show me again
what is in your mind i think
i choose to listen

i go to a mind
sometimes that is different
here i am again

They say fools rush in,
I should have held my horses,
And take a deep breath in.

It wasn’t your looks,
It wasn’t what you had,
It was the feeling I never had.

The way you looked at me,
Like I was the only girl in the world,
But you saw someone that wasn’t me.

No good bye or why,
You just vanished from my life,
It hurts I won’t lie.

It was a regular Saturday night for you,
But it was the most magical moment for me,
I felt sparks fly when I looked you in your eyes,
I guess eyes tell lies.

I keep asking myself,
Why do I miss him,
He clearly doesn’t feel the same way,
He only thinks about himself.

How did I misread the situation?
I am usually so good at reading people.
Your eyes deceived my heart,
Now all I am left with is agitation.

The Door to My Heart, was left open.
To a Woman, I had given the Key.
She never found, what She was looking for
and soon returned it, back to Me.
I held back Memories of Her.
The moment She decided to Part
and nestled them, Safe and Secretly.
In the corner of My Heart.
I drew Her Picture in My Mind.
A Picture which I could never Erase
and painted the Picture, in My Heart
with Colours no one could Replace.
Each Night, I played the Moon to Her
and was building Her, a Mansion on Mars.
I kept building My Castles in the air,
While She chased all the Stars.

the soul creeper is
you we deny it yet the
the truth ruptures a mind

head ache head mind
watcha gonna do
wake up from the grave

The world a force to pray
The months and years  
Looking up at the sky rays
The change of force
Takes over any course
Change of luck
The winning horse
Nature takes the course
Lighting fuse
Change of force
Growing full force
Godly- Rose
Tearing- forgiving
The change of force
Prepares us to a better living
  Do a* change* of* good

the dawn collapses sometimes under its own weight while
worlds of gestures are well preserved under the eyelids,
hardly random grammars, addiction to illusions,
the space of grace, the space for violence misued
muted tempos in the fragility of thoughts
we know many words but not the right language to talk to each other,
the vocabulary of hurt exploded inside narrow spaces,  the temple of skin empty
recycle bins full of our selves
we confuse the world with the contours of our pain

untitled the day sometimes
when love has left behind the birth of language