.
.
.
Hello ex-Hubby,
I meant the handsome dystopian boy,
currently, I'm writing you the sin
I remembered that craved the most,
when I dared to
penetrate my colorful virtue spot again.
to ride the last whole night car with you
in a hurry,
and forget about the evil you,
hating women, dressed in your dark flurry.
I embraced those tiny white palms in my head.
when they refused to touch me back and ride ahead.
instead of losing interest
and forget about reverence you physically,
I kept my fingers crossed secretly,
under the car seat,
next to the prestigious scent of yours.
Your North African amber eyes
that refused to match mine,
to get lost between their depressed universes and shine.
I prayed along this magnificent time,
to God so he could with his 99 mercies
make you fully mine.
The lava that burst divinely
out of your Tunisian delicate betrayed my senses
and lit the full hungriness towards your beguilement.
I encouraged my half stability
to make it through
a little bit far from you,
my hallowed brew
with every single meter that we've passed
I fluctuate amid the idea of capturing you devilishly or sacredly, between making some blood contracts with the devil itself,
or donate as much money as I could,
for the sake of being together,
burring ourselves on an old bookshelf.
trichotillomania; the colorless ferocious ogre,
that used to assault my bright aesthetic soul,
as a tight fatal choker
to remind it chastely,
of the imperfection portrait of mine.
and pursue its pride with a fiery scourge,
matted with brine
when I started to rise my jaded fingers
to covet those golden cheeks.
I failed!
the deficiency is capturing me
The keloid I hated the most
as I carry my dramatic havoc away,
a little bit away,
from your inner fray
pathetically, I turned my whole feelings
against my well ignoring the idea of
love Subliminal and its spell
facing the windscreen
that harshly afford me a great frustration
trying to cover my hope with trash sack and provocation.
I failed,
escaping the life blackmail,
convincing me to practically disbelief on you.
But I kept myself as holy as I dared to.
despite of my Viscera's beating,
crumbling and shrinking.
I kept my grin harmfully, blinking.
under your realm seeking for a light of your anger that will
console me again. and bring me home.
Happy Birthday!
.
.
.

How can I liberate myself
When my hands are not handcuffed
Yet my mind yearns endlessly
For more of you around?

Once upon a time, in a toxic embrace
Us, and your shadow, faint and cold
I held onto your lies, against my knowing,
Till awakening came, and I started going.
Begging for warmth, for love's reprise,
Met by your silence, under cold skies.
Today, I close that chapter, bid farewell,
Exchanging your poison for stories to tell.
How could you break the love promise?
And compel it to swell with its calamity
And burst within its insanity
Like a perfect incantation
In times of ignorance.

I belong to the first place
where we used to overdose on dreams,
ones you've since forgotten.
I persist in being yours,
despite the challenges we face today.
Happy birthday to you.
The shattered words I've held onto
remain yours,
whether I can articulate them or not.
Today,
I comprehend the weight
of punitive silence,
and thus,
it transforms into a blessing in my life.
No one would impose it upon me
before it morphs into their fear of
losing me in the first place.

an open door
preched upon a
quiet hill

rusty old door
waiting for no one
stands still

when it rains and
when it spills—

         and

from her rails her
branches burgeon

her roots carved
into the soil

wooden stiles
freed of burden

now sprawl out
into the void

from her keyway
her eyes pry

shattered glass
that took her voice



her hinges


the last of her




last of a home
left for spoils


the last of a home
withered and spoilt




O' the lonely wooden
door!


the paint has
withered away

         time




once it had a
home

once there was
a home



the last of steps
the beginning of
nothing


no windows
no walls
no nothing

       and

my favourite
place

the last of
my steps

my kingdom of
a thousand thoughts
caught and spilled




filled by the silence
that haunts


O' my lonely old
door!


how it weeps
—old door



in the mouth
of autumn

through the month
of summers

in the lashing
winds of mid year

every shade of
winter




now craved in
the ruins

that only comes
but with age



O' the lonely old
door!

holding a sunset


     stands still

I'm sorry if I used lots of songs
[*** *** let me listen to this]
: It's been a while
A ***** is confused,
a ***** is a maintaining sanity
at the verge of insanity
a ***** is dead,
[ I can relate to said *****😂😂😂😂😂]

Melancholia, of a French man in the surrealist era
Giving me the little and big absurdities
💀💀💀I'm trying to maintain balance in this existence,
Could it ever get worse?
💀💀
[ I have  zero access😭]
[😭😭how are you handling that]
[Could it???????????????]
[ I think I'm running mad]💀
[💀💀]
It the capitalism,
it's the boundaries,
the black tax,
the **** riders
horse **** ******,
phoney *** ******💀
Only a free man is a dead man
or a madman
It's the matrix!!
it's the annoying HR,
an overbearing parent,
, everything all over the place
It's the loneliness!! the loneliness!!
of everyone everywhere,
it’s the holding on !!! The holding on!!
💀**** let me stop
**** my bad
I hope this makes sense when I'm sober
[ The **** riders for real]
[ These would make amazing song lyrics😂😂]
[No no😂😂]
💀💀
You
💀 I've seen time crawl,
walk and run
seasons and weathers
decades in years
years in months
months in weeks
weeks in days
days in nights
nights in days
moons in nights
nights in moons
Buds in Flowers
flowers in Buds
Perks of a Wallflower
wallflowers on pecks

my *****💀
[Lyrics]
[But for some reason]
[I  Totally get you]

💀💀🔥 I have to journal this
****💀💀💀
[You must!!]
[ I am going to write this down because you😂😂]
I will post this on Hello Poetry
I will change promise you
I want to make good for the Good Girls