I have words that I just can’t say
I’m not even sure if they’re true
The thought of them terrifies me

I keep them locked up in my head
Sometimes they get out and roam
Those are the days I’m afraid of the most

What would happen if I stopped and listened?

This bridge is faulty
there is dry-rot  taunting
    the girders
Its spandrels:
all knobby-kneed..
  Its pseudo-elaborate  trusswork,
    as if   designed  
    by a lonely drunk

It's pilings..  questionable
Its deckwork, treacherous.

    Its abutment--
    aw,  **** me..   

    its crumbling.
.  .  

If we cross over  
under the lie of darkness
we won't be so afraid..

     But these structural-flaws,
     when revealed  by the sun
     are so incredibly intriguing.


  Let's take that step
  and see if it holds us.

I hated emotions, yet I shared them.
I valued privacy, yet I let you into my space.
I forced smiles, yet I made you laugh.
I yearned for time, yet I sacrificed hours.
I never trusted others, yet I gave you a chance
To prove yourself.
And now you broke it.
The end.

" He is losing his grip "
- Oh!! Is there a grip now? No body said anything about a grip.

           Words Of Harfouchism.

you ask me if I talk to god
because he is important to you
and I reply saying I do
but not in the way you think

I speak to god when I’m all alone
crying and screaming and
even though no sound may come out he hears me
he understands what I am saying to him without me having to say a word
because he is always there listening and loving

just like I’ll be for you