Miserable and unmotivated,
Mood swings from time to time,
Lying, it has evolved daily.
I can’t control myself the same way anymore,
I’m discovering a new side to myself,
I proclaim that space is what will cure this pain,
However, that’s not the claim.
That unfamiliar side that remains,
Is the one that nobody seems to understand,
They’re getting tired of me;
Bored.
I wish I could reach out,
Nah, I’d probably just freak them, like hell.
I call them friends,
Nowadays,
They’re merely as important to me.
Quick judgments, slow reaction times,
If they ever need assistance,
I’m always available.
If the tables turn, role switches,
I’d be let down,
Yet again.
The irony resides here,
Trust within myself no longer exists,
Entirety has been reduced to half of a whole,
I’m a worthless piece of —
So sick of being misused,
Treated differently, and most importantly,
Never fully acknowledged of.
You notice my presence when you want,
Not when you can.
Your effort is only being wasted,
Referencing me as a “friend”,
Just an acquaintance,
Actually, a stone cold stranger that wants nothing to do with anyone or anything.

Let there be lightings, thunders, and fire when we meet
So that we can see our faces clearly
So I can see your every scar, and you can see mine
So that we are used to each other's voices
and fire
and heat
Let the grounds be wet with the pouring rain of tears that follows
so that the soil would be damp enough for the flowers to grow upon,
and fertile enough,
for the seeds and our communion, fruits of thoughts
Thereupon, let me choose to stay, or sail away
But with the thought that we know we can weather future storms,
or for the clear skies that follows,
or any other weathers we couldn't fathom.

From the foundations of manhood
I send you this letter.

Right now might seem the worse
But the end will be better.

I’ve longed for someone  
While we’ve been together

I’d try to do both
But I’m not that clever

And I know I said never again

******* with randoms
A friend of a friend

Lies on top lies
That **** never ends

But atleast this time
I told the truth like a man.

as i draw
the room temperature blade
across my skin
little white marks
scratches like a cat
remain
a hidden sign
of the pain
the torture
of the hopelessness suffered in amongst the peaceful serenity of destruction that is currently swallowing me whole

i wish
i had the courage
to draw on my hands
like normal
or my wrists
for a change
but this time
it must remain my private little secret
my ***** little secret
or those the closest to me will get hurt and  that will only
make things
worst

if i had the courage
i’d draw
dainty sparkles of crimson blood
i’d push hard against the mottled canvas of my uppermost thigh
i’d do it properly

but i can’t
bring myself
to push
any
harder

i pause
for the second time
since i began
i think
of those i’ve seen around me
in public
at school
college
wherever
some try to hide their masterpieces with age old techniques which do nothing but cry louder and more desperately than the lines of ink which they so desperately want to keep so secret
it
doesn’t
work

some hang theirs up on exhibition for the whole world and their wife to see
free of charge

no
one
cares
or even
really
notices

as i draw
the room temperature blade across my skin
i finally feel
okay.

He’s a happy guy but riddled with toxicity.
He doesn’t want to die he just wants his life as he knows it to end.
Hooked up to all culture’s most poisonous habits.
An infection.

A boy looking up to a world of lifestyle comparison.
Stone, chemical, claustrophobic habitats.
Freedom chases you in the form of slick car adverts,
you just can’t get away from ultra cool pain.

A boy running through a field of urban misery.
Deep thoughts bore him, he’s only interested in killer one liners of the most escapist variety.
The ones that really know what they’re saying.

Whisky, blood, heavy boots stumbling on wood.
He can’t make it through the day without a drink behind closed doors.
Toxic blood and deep breaths,
never happier than when death closes ever further in.
There’s a breath more chemical than human and a look in your eye, like you’re lost in your own solace.

Everyone has problems, but it’s not bleeding into their lives quite like yours,
blood toxicity is too high to justify.
An intervention.

But smile baby and drink up tonight, you’ll be alright up in the sky.

This fakeness is driving me mad.
This hypocrisy is faithless, destructive and deceptive.
Tear all these layers of fake, rip it apart and cast it away.
The convincing face of a phony, deceptive man,
tricking many to follow the wrong path, to the wrong land.

What's fake will fade away.
What can be shaken would all die and be burnt, cast to the side.
I hope they do.
You shouldn't be a fake.
Or your destiny would be written down, carved into stone, as real and true as ever.
Be real.
That's the best. Forever.

Feelings, the treasure of ones heart,
A flame, cast ablaze by the purity of righteousness, warm alike sunlight, yet not as burning or uncomfortably hot if exposed too long,
As embracing, as a motherly tugging hug, full of love and dearness,
It feels so gentle, like a soft breeze, sweetly touching the blossoming petals, after a soft rain pours water over their delicate, little bodies,
So warm, as if enlightment were close to reach beyond the border of consciousness, growing strong and happy, alike a peach tree,
Celestial is what it tastes like, sweeping over my transience in awe,
It is but an emotion, which would soften a stone hard heart and make it alike cotton and wonderfully sweet as candy from amongst heaven,
Inner peace, served on a golden plate behind a courtain of sunlight, describing the greatest pleasure,your drink and thankfulness for what you have, without greed, the desire to have more, despising violence,
And even though humans will keep on living, such whilst being in a wretched, poor state, destined to fight on and hope for the better,
Living, is what I find very beautiful.


~ Umi