not a lot

Only a trinket carved from diamonds
alongside a pristine enchanted mirror

Only a golden car
that, be it night or day, shines forever

Only a loving family
with a beautiful wife
and two cheery kids

Only a mansion
that could fit a plane in it,
with five floors,
five bedrooms, and five pools

Only a pretty face
with a not-so-pretty mind

Only a debaucherous heart
which could never find the right one

Only a sinful soul
unable to pursue happiness

Only an abusive mind
one that's never content with me

I have
not a lot.

I am what you might call an abnormal specie
Although I possess most characteristics of homosapiens I feel ****...different
People say I'm an epitome of art which I find amusing
I feel more like a homeless spirit tossed around by the wind without purpose.
I hardly do things my friends do, sometimes I try hard to blend
My friends tell their love stories and emotions
I go to my story *** and cook creative stories of me spiced with scenes from Indian movies
I have a barricade of fear, anxiety and distrust around my stomach so you can't find butterflies there
Don't get me wrong, I haven't had any heart breaks... Maybe once or twice... I don't remember because I'm not bothered
I gave up on love long time ago... Maybe I didn't... Maybe it just... Left.
So here I am on a serious relationship with depression and solitude
My friends tell tales of their *** experience with girlfriends, party strangers but I'm too shy to tell them of my daily ******* with my lovers.
I flirt sometimes and it seems like a natural gift, I could say sweet words that will make Shakespeare's grave tremble but I never have the strength to go further; to lie on their naked body because I fear I might break their hearts if I go too deep. She might think I'm in love but get disappointed the next morning then sing aloud the daily female hymn "Men are ****"
I'm considered the devil's agent because I'm one of the few species who dare to ask "why" whenever it comes to religious matters.
I am a stranger to myself, I say and do things I never thought I could. I'm a coward, luckily my alter ego is fierce, he's the gifted one; the poet and smooth talker, I just take the credits.
I'm scared of marriage, will I marry because I love her or because my mother desperately needs grandchildren so she can sing lullabies to their tiny ears? Will I love my wife? How will I when love seems like a foreign, ancient and forgotten language?
I am the only one of my kind.
I am... I really don't know who I am.

“I’m Okay!”
Is just my favorite Lie,
It helps to hide
And
Pretend that
I’m perfectly Fine.

shaking frustrations, heart aching situations,
she breaks her fingers in a brick wall confrontation
red/black/orange/purple seep from the opaque -
white knuckles, squeezing tight
she rips the papers, shreds she dreads
broken frames, abandoned - afraid,
the expectations, sit heavy - break her neck
her head hangs
fists and wrists - left -
contorted.

Holding hands in the hall
Whispered stares about us.
“How can she have the audacity
To get together with anyone?”
The rumors poison her heart,
Slowing her stride
Until she hides her face away.
“It’s all for attention,” they whisper.
But her love grows more than the rumors.
One year goes by,
Classes go by, and they are happy.
“Look at the *****.
She doesn’t deserve that.”
Two years, graduated with honor.
Loving more than life,
More than the horrid thrown at them.
We can survive.
We are strong.
Our love is growing
Our future is drawing
With hope and trust.

I gave you love. I gave you happiness. All that I have was yours, because I believed in trust. I believed that what I have built for myself has no purpose if I had no will to share. You were my purpose. You were my love. You were my lifeline. Yet, you deceived me. Fooled me. Make me look like an idiot. Standing at the walkway, secretly wanting you to meet me halfway. All the promises you made, you broke them. All the love you had, you threw them. All the happiness I had, you took them. You took them. You took me. You threw me. You broke me. Guess this fairytale is not meant to have happy endings. The books lied. The movies exaggerated. I dreamed of a future - where you were all that was to it. However this is not fantasy, yet a reality. Wake up sanity, wake up. This is not a dream.

                                                                                              J.G.S

She drenches herself in perfume,
in hopes of masking
the smoke that seeps from her lungs
and clings
to her clothes.