every time somone has left
I've gotten a bit better at loving myself
there are lessons in the losses
and I've found solace in the vacancy beside me
I don't mean to refute my feelings
I still pray for someone to stay
but I won't let anyone feel as though they complete me
no one can disturb the peace I created in solitude

She don't live here no mo’
She left me lonely n cold
She took a part of my soul
The only part that I know
I look in the mirror, reflections unknown
Cuz I don't know who I am, hope I don't lose control
Drugs got me addicted
love has been evicted
From my heart that's been afflicted
Got my Chest feelin constricted
Ready to fight
Feelin hella defensive
but really I'm jus defenseless
Livin’ life jus like a misfit
Sinning to live, got wisdom to give
got these jewels that I drop jus listen to this:
Love will get you killed
blood will pour and spill
and thugz will mourn but still
The pain will resonate
the drugs and all these pills
will turn change into hate
And all the love you feel
will die and slowly fade
turn numb from all the crime
Somewhat like doing time
cuz ur trapped behind bars cuz love left, said goodbye
It's just a stranger
closely kept by danger
and this anger will alwayz linger
locked up in cages
unleashed in stages
random; cannot contain it
no one will understand it or feel how the pain is
so loves is gone
packed up, left me alone,
no one home
and I'm asking where did the love go?
and it shows cuz I ain't the same
tryna hide all the strain
Feelin trapped in my brain
smoke these blunts for the pain
it's kinda hard to maintain
cuz I'm supposed to be strong with no one else for the blame

Detached;
My strings have detached
Like the vowels and constants I speak detached.
I watch the world
Through eyes not of mine
And live in a body
Living a life that doesn’t feel mine.
My chest feels empty
And my tone sounds vacant.
I am floating
Further from conscious
With no one to ground me
Everything seems not to be mine
To feel to touch
No matter how much I try.
For it merely feels like mist
Through which I pass my hand through.

Everyone needs a vacation away from home
so I trekked out to the crumbling temple
of your soft skin and fragile bones
welcomed with the promise of being gentle
a beautiful landscape for me to roam

Checked into your vacant room
visited the museum of your hall
dined on wine and roasted shrooms
danced the town in a hazed pub crawl
slept in the arms of your perfume

Days swift by into weeks
weeks begin to breeze
You grab me by the cheeks
and tell me that you love me

Babe, I am just a tourist
Its time for me to go home.

(In a vacant church Little Girl and Big Man sit on a parish
a few feet apart, in between them lies a book titled"My Feelings".)

(The curtain opens. Little Girl sits staring at Big Man. Big Man gets up and goes to the statue of himself in front of them for a closer look.)

Big Man: Will talking in person really make a difference?

Little Girl: I like to think it does.

Big Man:  (turns to look at her incredulously.) What wishful thinking, you're so naïve.

(Little Girl opens her book and starts to read aloud.)

(Big Man cuts her off with a noise every time she starts to say something until she falls silent.)

Big Man: Just as I thought, it doesn't change anything.

Little Girl: But you don't-

Big Man: (cuts her off again.) You just can't let things go, that's your problem. I told you I didn't want to do this, yet you dragged me out here. It didn't accomplish anything!

Little Girl: That's because you don't even want to listen or try to talk, you just want to yell and blame me!

Big Man: That's enough, this conversation is over. (Walks off stage right.)

(Little Girl screams in anger and throws "My Feelings" at the Big Man Statue.)

(The Curtain closes.)

Dilapidated tears evaporated,
         where days descended
one by one like dead leaves
                    falling day by day.

A celebration of agonizing
     desolation where this aging
of youth was culpable to silence.
Candles engraved with fleeting dejection.

With every breath,
          years were extinguished.
beyond the grasp if youthful
                               understanding.

But we gather our days and realise
     that even though were vacant
of smiles now, there will be a time
of  celebration, where your surrounded
                                 with faithful friendships.

The green tea is hot
As my tongue touches
and licks
the surface.

The steam floats off with its flavor
and burns the tip
and I then put it down
to mind myself
of other things.

But the day is cold
With the trees bending uneasy
And the windows wailing
with their cries.

My feet are cold
As I sit crossed
holding them close
to my thighs.

But still nothing goes
on inside
But still nothing goes
on in my life.
The hot tea I pick up
as I settled it down
a few seconds ago.

“Oh its hot…”
I look outside.
Where did you go.

Reflections once blossomed
                   but ideals were cadavers
                                             entombed
in thorns of serrated ethics
                                     now void less.

But streams had dried up
                              leaving echoes
                of rouge images
showing like imperfections emaciated.

Even though a collection once
                           blossoming now vacant.
                   Nothing fades but leaves
seeds of contemplation, to grow again.