From poets, to writers of song, to numerology
Fascination has bestowed the number twenty-three
To some newly disarrayed decree.

"How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol'n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!"

"You had yet to hit twenty-three,
An age that would swallow you-
This is a new side of you-
So full of fear." *

I cannot recollect a time so difficult
As the bootstraps wore down from
Leather to a single thread.
No longer did I pull myself up,
Twenty-three; The age in which I should be dead.
No subtle glints; Only laboured hints of panting breaths.
Sighing from tired regrets.

A story sewn into my skin.
Where lonely threads are left awry.
A face with the map of the world.
My sigh; once panting, now a cry.
Of help? For help? Good will;
Is it squandered, or squirreled?
Twenty-three.

i can't understand what it means to be lovers anymore,
you left me bewildered,
you said that we were friends being stupid,
instead of being lovers,
we were killers,
killing ourselves,
together

-----

i thought,
i thought i cared for you gently,
treated you like a diamond,
never raised my voice,
i thought i didn't smother you,
but in the end,
i could not control,
the words that escaped your mouth when you said,

                "its over."

-------

lets play strangers,
and be losers together,
but when the day ends,
we'll shall forget everything,
to go back to jock and nerd.

--------

little raven,
why you leavin?
why you leavin your home?
you dropped your phone,
in mid-flight,
leaving behide,
a note and a black feather,
of betrayal.

Damn.

I do miss you.

I miss your eyes.

I miss our nights.

I do miss you.

I miss your breathe.

I miss our laughs.

I miss us.

They’re jumbling
And tumbling.
Tripping over themselves to get out
As soon as that clock hits 3 am.
If they don’t they paint vivid mindscapes
That vanish with the sun.
If they make it,
Well they can assault the senses of those,
Now too few, that read.

Gifts and corporations do not equate love.
Although I admire a certain aspect.
The after effect.
Everything being restricted to one day.
Three-hundred sixty-four days in comparison.
To show how much you love, how much you care.
The simplicity of taking time out to do something special for the one you love
out of sheer appreciation.
Price tags don't include how vital it is to bask in the same breath as your loved one.
The amount of time it takes
Creating memories that outlive us.
The moments we constantly over-obsess
How could they, they are manufactured in the same manner of restriction.
Mass quantities of fluff and chocolate.
All ranging from big to small.
A single day that lasts three-hundred sixty-four days.
Love is the rarest commodity and it's all of these small moments
That create the most memories.
The after effect.
In actuality.
The real holiday is to see your face light up at all the discounted chocolate
as we celebrate each and every day
The same way we met
Three-hundred sixty-five days

a complement of three legs
kept the realm in a wobbly
modality
to have had a fourth one
would give an upright
totality

as this important limb
was missing in a forgotten
land
the locale disintegrated  
like a pan of moving
sand

the domain being beset by
ills too many to
mention
hence the citizens cried out
for another pole's
attention

a trio of pegs weren't
stable nor
strong
they did violently
shake minus the quads firm
prong

sometime in the future
the whole thing might just
brace
if a solid pin is attached
onto the
place

Don't you ever think that everyone have to pay the same price for Greatness.
Don't you ever duplicate the life of someone's you love, just to be great.
Don't you ever play God role, and justifying every thing in the name of God.

You will pass the 3 roles in your life. ( stupid , clever, wise )