I am just a boy living in an unrealistic world.
Unrealistic yet the most real thing I could think of,
Full of words that are pictures and pictures are words.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words,
all you need to paint a picture is three.
This is the world I live in,
full of expectations verses reality.
Where the reality is the expectations and the expectations is not reality.
For in this Earth wealth is more and less than status.
Wealth is a gateway to education at it's finest,
while the rest of us learn book to book.
We all live paycheck to paycheck.
Whether we want to admit it we know it's true.
We all live with fears,
but those fears just might come true.

She walked,
Alone, unseeing of the clamour behind her.
Cold, and bereft,
Yearning - for what?
She left. Just disappeared,
Cocooning further as hands
Invisible to her, tried to land
On her heart.

You’re the one the I need.
You’re the one that I wanted.
You’re the one I get hurt for
You’re the one that I lean on.

I sit outside contemplating if I’ll ever have the right words to fully orchestrate the greatest love song.
Pondering on the ideology behind each symphony and melody.
Trying to figure out if I can truly compensate for each octave. After all I’m no singer.

I stand before a very large crowd. All eyes on me. I hear each murmur from the background. It would seem they are all waiting on me.
Dressed and draped in black, my hands begin to shiver, sweat trickling down my forehead.
I don’t have the voice for this. How on earth do I put on the greatest show.

Deep breath, inhale, exhale. I tell myself. If it’s all for a love like no other.
Surely I can make this work. Somehow I can. Because if it’s for her. Then I need to become the greatest showman to date.

I want to say things like “I’ve never believed in fate and that every fibre in me believes there’s no destiny. That I always sought love to be superficial or more of a fantasy.”
However I’ve always been a sucker for romance.
And I always believed that love could enhance every bit of our surrounding. And in saying so. I am stating to you that you’re my comfort in ending. And I hope that having a knowledge of this is profound. Because at the end of the day, you’re the only love I need and have found.

I stare in awe at the crowd. At first lost for words. But to the thought of you, I’ve found inspiration. At the sight of you, my confidence sky rockets. I don’t know if you know but you’re my motivation. And for as long as I can imagine, all that I want and need is within you.

I’m a victim of love.
I have stood before Cupid and allowed for him to take a mugshot of me love drunk.
I’ve been in a position whereby I fought love and thought it was love.
But my reality always pulled me out of this dream. Dragged by gravity. I realised it was all idealised, conceptualised misunderstandings of what I thought was what my heart needed.
Because at the end of the day. The love I had given out was never reciprocated. It made me feel as if I was doomed.
As if I was to be consumed by the world and to be hastily chewed up and spit by the people that took my heart only to decide that it wasn’t good enough.

Feeling like you’re not good enough and being put in that situation is painful. I remember fully telling myself that I cannot be that again. I need love that is not only healthy but will help me grow and become better and be in a case of “Finally, I feel at home”

When you walked and came into my life. I never expected that.
I know I was wholly curious about you.
I know I wanted to know more, I wanted to know what makes you smile, what makes you laugh, what makes you happy, sad, confused, confident, what ticks you off, what angers you, what makes you. So you.
And how can I be apart of your life. How can I see that smile everyday and make you laugh and make you see the world the way I see it in your eyes.

And it’s weird. I know.
But when i heard your name for the first time.
It felt like my heart finally found its other half.
I love you.

I've met girls who swooned over guys
"Oh my God, he gives me butterflies!"
When I wanted to be moved by stormy skies.

From time to time
darkness graces
me with a visit.
A dear old friend and she
brought along wicked pain
and compartmentalized stress.
We barter our lifeline
to get the snake eyes that are crucial for success.
The poison is also the cure.
I accept stress and pain
to let out the darkness
and I manage to finesse
a new lesson.  
Every time is the last one,
it grips me
the ****** burdening load.

Then it's just darkness
and I, having a petty blast
and finishing our flasks.
Darkness's reassurance
that life evaporates
like a flame
made me accept
the darkness within.
The poison made me
crackle and under the dark sky
I glowed
in spite of the beating of time.