you loved "me"
but you did not really love "me"
you loved the idea of "me"
but the vision of "me" you had
was the same one
of a million other girls
even guys
in the crowd

— i was a diamond to you, but diamonds didn’t mean much when you were in a mine full of them.

Sadly, I am null. I can see nothing but forest. Dense and thick as shadows in midnight lights. Can I still see them for what they are? What purpose do I, as a simple body, take from such feeling? I haven’t missed a beat. Never off of scale or rhythm long enough to catch the tempo. This is the feeling I can muster up after half a day. Like cream isn’t sweet enough for strong coffee. Or the rain doesn’t fall hard enough to break the ground. A mind can only hold a candle to the objects that surround it. But what prime can I count to that will get me closer. May I be able to count that high? Can someone such as me count on the speed of time to solve problems for me? This is only a simple thought or play in my book. I can sit for hours and count how many evil intentions I have passed. Every single human being cannot and will not comply. I think this is why we see evil as such. A good person can say a good person. But I don’t see this as solid as the sentence. A bad person can still be bad after a good thing. But a good person is holding true to good even after a bad thing? What bad measures does a good person have to do to be bad? What questions press against my forehead like rocks and soft sand. The amount of time I have placed on this plain can weight a mountain’s ton. We as people cannot feel a ton though. No human can lift it or experience the difficulty. So how do we know what it is? It is just a word and a number measuring what we as people cannot achieve. Sadly, this too is something a ponder about as I press on a mental quest. I sat in a chair long enough that my knees decided it was time to weaken. I have had this feeling before, but not with a good outcome. I begin to walk around the room as normal. No purpose of course, just as some track around the fake wooden furniture. I skim my hands across water swollen surfaces from missing costars and melted ice in glasses. I have to side step to get around stools and piles of sand from beach trips and communal drinking fits. I have had friends over of course, but none stayed too long so see this of me. I may not look like the type to keep a secret or thought to myself. I am more open the usual as of right now. I can chip away at a keyboard or book. I can perform mindless tasks better than the rest of the world. I can blend into the surface long enough to take a life-time of conversations in an hour’s time. I can walk outside and feel wind before it comes. When rain falls, my eyes begin to water at drops that weren’t from water. I think we as people haven’t understood each other enough. Maybe it’s a people thing to be so ignorant to this fact.

The neighborhood,
was quite good,
until the neighbors saw,

but I promise you it was just a humble fluke
that sadly my neighbors saw..
behind the hedges I had to puke,
and sadly the neighbors saw,

I hit their dog,
due to some fog,
and the neighbors saw,

and then our cat,
made a ****,
and sadly the neighbors saw,

and then my son,
****** their daughters tongue,
and sadly the neighbors saw,

and then are snake
ended up in there lake,
and sadly the neighbors saw,

and the one time our dog,
ate Mrs. Millers clog,
and sadly the neighbors saw,

and sometimes at night,
my husband and I fight,
and sadly the neighbors saw,

and my kid screams why,
and begins to cry,
and sadly the neighbors saw,

and our neighbors husband was on patrol,
and he saw me stole,
and sadly the neighbors saw,

one time I borrowed a book,
but instead I took.
and sadly the neighbors saw.

I began to sing,
and scared Mr. King,
and sadly the neighbors saw,

and I know I'm bad,
and a little mad,
and sadly the neighbors never saw,

that I was watching
and kind of stalking,
and sadly I saw...

A beautiful city
when love remains,
a bunch of terrorist
scared that lovely place.
Innocent people died on November 13th
million of people crying for the lost.
The world is so cruel for this poor souls,
and now that lightly city with beautiful colours,
is now city for pray a lot.
When I see human but i don't see humanity let's stop the war between people.
i still shake & i don't believe what happend on November 13th.
Sadly Paris is now a black place cuz the lights of  Eiffel Tower lost the faith.
Now the city of love is covered with cold… oh sad Paris be strong.
#prayforparis

- d.a

I could write endless poems for you
                                And not a single one of them would make you love me