I sometimes wish
I didn't feel
the way that I do
but we met
the other night
for the first time
we met because
we are both lonely
in a new town
and we both wanted more friends
from the moment we talked
I felt my body pulse
for you
which for me
that is quite a rare occasion
especially for a man
I walked to the coffee shop on friday night
and I see you with your dark curls
jeans
and as I got closer
I thought wow he is so so handsome
how can he just be my friend??
As we spoke more and more
throughout the night
I felt more and more pulled towards you
as you cared more and more about me
as we saw that we view the world in such a similar way
your a man
who feels his feelings
we spoke about crying to music
about feelings mental health and heartbreak
and now I am unsure of what to do
or how you feel
I know I am not at all ready for a relationship
or anything else
but all I know is
that I want you
and from what I can see
your insides are just as beautiful
as your outsides.

Considering some pages I've covered, quite immersed I can be in nonsense.
Nonsense, immaterial..
Nonsense, derailed..
Nonsense, abnormal..
Nonsense, beauty..
Nonsense, imperfection..
Nonsense, is doglike..
Doglike is godlike... Yeah, thought crime, alot of things considered too sacred to ponder.. that's the program, the matrix.. But with poetry, THOUGHT CRIME is godly.
Thought crime.. is
the universal law of creation.
the wonders of the world are born.
Civilization is born.
Solutions are discovered.
Guilty and escape or innocent and bound. Your choice.
DOG.
Dog is uncleanness yet godlike in all ramifications.
Jealousy.
Longing..
Pure..
Loving..
Ever accommodating..
Protective..
Peaceful..
Violent..
Kind..
But most important it's ever forgiven and never complaining..
It's the friend I crawl back to after given up myself to the sharp edges of sins,
as others fled seeing me down with bruises, it cleans my sores without disdain and accompanies me.
Can you be with a
MAD man. He asked.?
Mad
Not in violence,
MAD in words..
MAD in poetry..
Oh mad,
Have he just unlocked the portal..?
Making a difference with words is the "IKIGAI".
Orders might follow suit,
Breakdown one..
Two in the process..
Immersed in nonsense finding it hard to discover myself in the sense..
The MAD lines..
First timer in the MAD lines, old-timer in the LOVE and SORROW lines..
MAD lines are..
Sensitive...
Creative.
Adaptive.
In-Sanity..
Unsensored..
Derail­ing..
Dark humor..
Lies...
Liers can't make heaven they say,
But even when he lies he made it to heaven...
Why lit candles while going to the source of light, little ounce...
Are u trying to compare your Shadow with God's?
Shadow..
An object coming between a ray of light and a surface.
The twist is in the rays of light and the surface, which do you belong..?
Don't understand?
You are not meant to, just flow along the lines..
Until you get to the end of the rope just then a glimpse of light might appear, Hold on to the rope..
Hold...
The breathe.
The courage.
The life..
Yeah, hold, hold on to these lines Coz you might miss them someday..

i am exhausted.

sometimes i say things that people never laugh at,
things that people never understand,
things that people never acknowledge.

i am not the person that people
are happy to hear from,
want to see often,
enjoy being with.

after awhile it gets old.
that feeling after i say something
that adds to the conversation,
and no one even acknowledges my presence.

the feeling of a large hand
gripping tightly on your throat.
the feeling from embarrassment,
that heats your body to a thousand degrees.
the feeling of your heart shattering
because no one even noticed you were there.

my eyes start to water,
my hands start to shake,
and then, i freeze.

not freeze, as in temperature,
but as in every fiber in my being
turning to nothing,
and my heart feels broken.

it gets hard to breathe in moments like that.
moments where i pretend to look like i am okay,
and pretend like i am not overly sensitive.
moments where i feel so unwanted,
that i pretend i am not myself.

i hate myself,
and i am exhausted of being me.

In an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society,
would every person
humanely
care for
their own feelings
and the feelings
of every person
in their society?

My eyes are forever ruined. I see too much, and what I see melts every gold and silver I have embedded in me.
I seem to know too much, but never too much to expand beyond limitations.
Limitations of what the mind can see.
I suffer, a heart of pure diamond, moulded into what others have made me.

I see intentions, crowds of people, lies, pain, truth...
But this gift means nothing to me anymore.
The healing I carry with myself.
I am not heard and listened to.
I feel misunderstood.

What can you do when you have it all?
But something is missing...
I’m smart, intelligent and driven.
Back at school as an adult to complete something important to push myself for further opportunities.
I push myself too hard and suffer defeat when I face failure.

Failure is my only fear.
It’s scary... knowing that without self discipline, where am I to be?

Please stop loving me, I am too sensitive.
Evil, personified.
I am torn, disappointed, disgusted...

Love serves me no purpose anymore.
Buried so deep inside of me is longing and confusion.
Wanting what I can no longer have.
I push away those who do

Too picky?
Too cold, detached from it all.

I want you, only you.
I still think about you.

But I may be wrong, for I have wronged myself into thinking that I will ever see you again.

Yolan.

Broken imagery....
I was so wrong
Darling clairvoyant, please stop ruining me

are something that I have learned to hide.
Seen as a weakness to my parents, seen as too sensitive.
Grow up, you aren't a baby anymore.
Stop crying, you have everything.

Bottled up inside me I learned to control them.
I learned to ignore them
every time they threatened to burst.
Tears are a luxury we all take for granted.

I've grown to accept this part of me,
grown to accept that tears aren't the enemy.
A part of me will always whisper to myself,
grow up, stop being a baby.

But in the end, we all shed some tears.

Raised voices like an echo through a horn,
makes my ears get pierced with thorns.
little humans that shriek all the time,
gives me shivers down my spine.
All the cars that sound their horns,
chased away my peace until is gone.
All the sounds that i could hear,
makes me feel like death is near.
My heart seems to race endlessly,
chased by fear relentlessly.