Many were killed this one time, somewhere.
They lived… They grew… They sinned… They suffered… They died.
I do know where,
I do know when,
and I do know how.
But I don’t know anything about all that I have summed.
Because this life is the life we are all bound to live.

One of them was a girl born in a land -Whatever land-
during a time -whatever time.
She had a mom, a dad, a house…
She was kind, clumsy, and more.

The other one was a man born in someplace, at some time.
He had a family and funny jokes.

And the other one was a mom…
Lived here and there…
was this and that…

And 98 more to go…

Descriptions describing anyone.
Quick stories you tell.
A summary of something.
Something you won’t remember.
Someone you read past.
Someone with a story.

What is an extra life on paper?
And what is it among MANY?
All and more of what they lived reduced to four letters
Overlooked and never seen.

100 people are the same as 101, and life goes on.
An additional person doesn’t make jaws drop lower
and tears fall faster.

MANY is, in fact, no one.
You’re only recognized as people but never as a person.
101 is “about a hundred people”
and your significance is only recognized when there aren’t others to spot.
Abbreviating numbers,
years of life, and memories.

when you make another one
don't forget to recycle what's left of me,
don't forget to pay the copyright fee
just in case i rise from the grave
to reclaim what's mine.

when you look in her eyes,
does the lack of knowledge excite you more
than all of my suffering could before?
does she still respond to my name
or do you get to pick a new one?

she's not me, but i wish she was.
see, it really was you and me both
tired of the lack of variables,
but it felt like we were getting close.
now it's your turn to figure it out.
and if worst comes to worst,
do remember,
you can always make another one.

why would she be here?
why would she leave parts of herself
in a place that's been promised to ghosts?
for reasons unknown,
for motives unclear,
for every line that made her feel
a little less wanted each time it healed.
she stands and waits,
watching the remnants of light fade away,
letting herself submit to whatever comes next.
the whispers grow near,
her vision is blurry,
her posture is rigid,
her heart is so solemnly still.
she hopes to find peace
in leftover pieces that no one else needs,
but she can still use them to fix up the holes
before all of her disappears.
why would she be here?

We’re two different people
from two inexplicably different worlds,
who can never truly
see things through the same eyes.

While I see,
a sky painted with beautiful and wild brushstrokes,
You see,
dilapidated high rises blurred by grey clouds.

I see,
a bubbling, bustling city of culture and people
While you see,
an overcrowded, noise polluted town.

I see,
the road to an unknown journey
You see,
cracked tarmac littered with potholes.

Because, while I like to daydream,
you like to plan
While I loved like a storm
you loved like a drought,

I lived in the little things - like inside jokes and playing the guitar
while you dreamt of more, like weddings and a fancy car.

you and I are from two different worlds
that can never be combined,
So with that I leave behind
something that could never quite be defined.

The sun shines.

So bright it does.

The heat can't lie.

But so our hearts.



The brightness, so blinding

Almost caring,

Nurturing,

What a shame it is.



The light stops at the pillar of the sky.

I see nothing with the naked eye.

Nothing but gloom.

Vision obstructed.



How greedy—

So greedy the clouds get,

Leaving folks in darkness.

Just like moles, we become.



Just like the Sun,

The heart don't lie.

They share a certain shine,

But a façade buries it.



My smile has turned to a lie.

Echoing tunes of the dark.

And reveals light only in sparkles,

As grains through an hour glass.



Deep down I smile,

Unlike any other,

A contagious smile,

All 32 of them shine.



As the grains of sand drop,

The clouds will eventually clear ,

My mask will crumble,

And the sun shall express its bright through my smile.

It's 8 o'clock in the morning
And I still thinking about the warning
That I got while I was eating
At buffet where they are seeking
Someone like a silly and to bully

And I was the perfect choice for that
As there was nothing in me but fat
And now here I am, sitting and crying
In the bathroom tearing and dying,
Of the pain that's a feeling and a dealing
With this kind of self-appealing

There they come, with a smile on their faces,
With a knife and cigarettes
Scratching and burning my skin to ashes
What do i need this kinda treatment?
Just because I got a belly and cheeks,
Makes me the one to see these freaks?

every word i ever wrote is for you,
every breath i ever took is for you.
you're the version of me that lives on in my head,
kept alive by the lives that i haven't lived.
you're the reason why i'm still here.
i'm afraid,
i'm afraid of the stillness that captures the thoughts
and refuses to give them back.
there you are.
all these years between us, but there you are.
there i am, all alone, cold and terrified
of the day that will come, but i'm still here,
locked up in a room inside my mind.
you're alive, so alive despite everything,
and i owe you a second chance at life.
you're the reason why both of us aren't dead.
every breath i ever took is for you,
every word i ever wrote is for you.

there's something wrong with my head.
minutes turn into days, days turn into nothingness,
fall through me like i'm made of holes,
scars form where grass used to grow.

i'm in the middle of an uninhabited desert,
i'm in a crowd, so dense there's barely room for a breath.
my thoughts follow their own footsteps,
caught in a game of hide-and-seek with myself.

i should've paid more attention to chemistry,
because i think my brain is missing some vital element,
one that would finally show me how to be whole.
but there is something wrong with my head.