I
                                          listen when i-
                                        n many moods
                                      bec-                 ­ a-
                                     use-                  it
                                     he-                  lps
                                      to­               clear
                                       m-       y mind.
                                        music alway-
                                   s makes thin-
                               gs better. I-
                        t lets me e-   s-
                 cape my t-           o-
             rtured r-                   e-
          ality. T-                       he calm it br-
        ings                    makes me feel safe, and t-
        he st-              rength          i-             t gives
         me h-            elps                m-              e to st-
           and               tall.               It               helps
              me                   ke-             e-            p my
                    hea-                               d         held
                             high, even when my h-
                                    eart is breaking.
                                                       ­      It
                                  it                          ­ai-
                           ds me in e-                   x-
                        pressing my-                 se-
                         lf. It                          ke-
                              eps­ me sane. Music
                                      is my safe
                                          place.

A triangle
starts at a point
goes toward
two other points.
But who's to say
it doesn't begin
at two points
which meet
at one point?

Wooden hands
Bruising random shapes
On my bare thighs.
Wooden hands
Leaving me covered
In rainbow lies.

And when wooden hands
Cross my mind,
They come in the form
Of sunshine.


F.Z.N

An empty train,
A clouded mind.

Vacant spaces transpire
Havoc caused by thee
Running in circles
Back to square one.

Water vapors reminisce
Your presence
As dotted lines
Started to fade

Parallel;
Our lives now
Strangers we once were
Strangers we are now.

c.c

i walked out of my house

half past midnight

in a short skirt and torn tights but

i was not headed for disaster.

i was on my way to sit in a circle

and dance in a triangle

and sleep

on a square.

he watches Her because she is one of those people who demands attention
She is wild and bold and sarcastic
he sees, though he is blind to Her insensitivity

she stares at Another because He is one of those people who sits at the back beautifully
He is good and charming and kind to His mother
she sees, though she closes her eyes to His cowardliness

he longs after The Girl who is taken because She is one of those people dreamt of
She is polished and pure with a bright smile
he sees, though he is oblivious to Her vanity