#realworld
tired of the
same old ways,
i try to
kick it back—
explain:
sometimes the
world is cold.
you didn’t ask
for this,
but it’s
always been
this way.
you had everything—
then lost it
the next day.
you take a step
back,
look up
to the sky,
watching blue
turn gray
without a reason why.
melancholy sunshine,
rays of light
fading away,
like the soft
hues
of yesterday.
you hate this—
and yeah,
i know
it’s cruel.
but stick around
for a few,
it gets better—
and it’s okay
if it’s not
your day.
for all that
it's worth:
i love you,
anyway.
Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 6:16 AM UTC
👺
In this grand masquerade,
We call
The real world,
No mask,
costs more than
your own true face.
🎭
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 1:33 PM UTC
Look at the streets crumble,
They were just fine.
Now look at you,
The cracks in your face tell me
You can't hold it together,
One more time.
Savage world,
Bitter truth,
It'll do no good to whine.
But it'll do no good to pretend
You're fine.
So you found that
Life isn't fair,
It's full of secrets and truth,
A hidden lair,
That I could still never hide from you
Because it was always there.
Love had its affairs,
And you had it all,
The bitter truth reveals a broken man,
Trying to stand tall.
Trying not to bend,
Or break, or fail,
A man doing his best
Not to crumble like the streets,
And continue to lose it all.
Jun 22, 2024
Jun 22, 2024 at 6:46 PM UTC
Can’t control
What you can’t
See
Outside forces,
Coming after
Me
Inside, chaos
Multiplied by
disorder
It is what it is,
Another breakdown
in order.
Wake up and
Everything’s the
Same
Still wanting
Change
But the only
Change I see,
Are the scenarios
In my dreams.
It is what it is,
Another day,
Another dream.
I
Can’t control
What I can’t
See.
It is what it is,
I guess I’ll wait,
Patiently.
Sep 15, 2023
Sep 15, 2023 at 5:14 AM UTC
so i am still too young
to know what is
really, actually, truthfully
out there..
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 5:32 PM UTC
I once had a story I couldn’t wait to tell,
a little girl with dreams about a world that went to hell.
The sky looked pretty, the stars within her reach,
her dreams escalated quickly to the ever tallest trees.
No nook, no cranny did she wanted to leave unseen,
no village, no valley that ever escaped from her dreams.
The sky is the limit, she always believed,
till the world came crashing on her little perfect dream.
The lights were blinding, the sky turned dark,
reality exploded like a burning car.
Her dreams went quiet, her eyes became soaked,
the day she realized the world was really a hellhole.
The little girl grew up that day
she was stared upon and laughed away.
The sky looked vicious and the stars didn’t seem
like they ever planned to be in the little girl’s reach.
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 12:02 PM UTC
I have a question for you:
Do you know the brutal agony
That wrenches your heart asunder
When you have your child,
Your flesh and blood,
Torn viciously from you
As you lie helplessly in bed
Ignorant to the tormented crying of your baby?
I have a question for you:
Do you know the burning fury
That scorches and swarms in your soul
When someone you loathe
Can manipulate your every movement
As if you are a foolish juvenile?
Do you know the roaring beast of betrayal
That casts rotten, merciless shadows
Over every bleak thing
You lay your tortured, tear-pricked eyes upon?
Do you know the unrelenting guilt
That destroys every comfort you desperately seek
And drowns you in your own misery
When your entire family die
On your very conscience?
If so, then you are only
A few steps closer to
Understanding the torment
That grinds me up every night
Only to spit me out each morning
For the hell dogs I called my friends
To sniff at in disdain
You are only a few steps closer
To entering the churning,
Burning,
Thrashing
Sea that eats me whole
When the fragile walls around my happiness
Shatters into millions of pieces.
So I have a question for you:
Do you have a single clue
About the real world?
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 4:40 PM UTC
I put up walls
To keep myself safe
But they are breaking
Exposing me to the outer world
How can anyone live out here
Nothing can save me or keep me safe
You have made a mistake
I'm not strong
So how can I be the leader
I wish everything would just go back
Back to when you were here
I am a disgrace
You are the Hero that has misplaced
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 4:11 PM UTC
Do i want to live or be functional?
i'm tired of waking up with a pit
In my stomach but the
Dull pain feels better than nothing
So i’ll spend my days in front of
Eyes that don’t feel
Listening to scripted thoughts
And i don’t want my medicine to kick in
Can i lay in knowing and not **** myself?
I’ll sip something to fill my physical emptiness
My tongue will take every drop with hate
I got an app to remind me to take my medicine
The hills are calling with their eyes and
I want to lay and lay with your hands
I wish you understood me the way i long for
I wish you wanted to
I’m not functional.
I feel the chaos in my bloodstream enough to
Keep me alive and shaking
As my fingertips run across my legs
Oh, god left me so long ago
Stranded to deal with everything myself
Will the mountains save me?
Hold me in it’s arms and communicate to me
That i can be ok?
Will the ocean stir and boil when
My feet touch the edge?
Can the trees of metal lift me,
Like a bird let me see the city,
Fill me with a sense of comfortability?
I can’t do what i’m supposed to
And i can’t do what’s good for me
I don’t think there’s anything that could
Make me or enable me to do so.
And **** you for hearing my words and
Blinking, not trying to make a difference.
**** everything that is still.
I live in a north river
And my body whips with the current
And i reach for the rocky land on the side
Cut my hands on the points
So i collapse into the water again
Filling the nose and mouth with salt
And disgust and the water isn’t
Pure and clear blue anymore.
i keep grabbing for more litter
To make myself comfortable with.
It never works.
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 10:09 AM UTC
Looks like somebody's got a case of
Something sinister, with not a trace of
That weekend high, like you just erased it
And filled up on Monday's existential dread
Nah, no way it's all just in your head
From the moment you dragged yourself out of bed
Leaving dreams behind, choosing real world instead
To face up to Monday's lack of appeal
No, I proclaim, this syndrome is real
It's something that some weeks all of us feel
As weekly the world attempts to steal
Our joy and our souls with its Mondays
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 3:50 PM UTC
Leather and oak
Whiskey and smoke
Exhaled in a languid defense
Of an evening that’s spent
In a mist of ferment
That eventually lifts all pretense
Quietly tight
As you sip through a night
Of forgetting the reason you came
Asking, no doubt
What your life is about
And then looking for someone to blame
Feeling at ease
‘Til the moment you seize
On a thought that you thought you had lost
Wondering why
You believed in the lie
And then categorizing the cost
Leaving a tip
Like a bargaining chip
To the sad patron saint of the waiting
Hoping to gain
Some relief from the pain
In the arms of sweet equivocating
On your way home
You’re no longer alone
As you walk about talk about trust
Like a moth to the flame
You dissolve in the shame
Of the heat and the light of your lust
In the morning once more
You have evened the score
And your ego’s exacted its price
So you say your goodbye
And you try not to cry
For the loneliest act of your life
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
To wake up of own volition, surrounded in warmth
refreshed like when the moon comes around to full shine
a wolf howl, with two small voices warbling after
Inked veins run across spring-kissed skin
inked as a flower, ever constant in impermanence and design
All walk lines, and unexpected find common intersection
in chocolate and popcorn and spider-like boys
in flags shimmering as mirages tossed to the sky
One unseen but listening, eyes glistening with your tears
Red carpet ending finally goes to the deserved
Lessons, internalized, suddenly shine in the real world
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
It's funny how everyone in the world
Is busy fooling everyone else
By putting on a mask.
But as grow,
We realise that's how it is.
You see them, you make an assumption.
And one fine day,
You see the real person,
Behind the fading mask!
Welcome to the real world, kid!
Where there is no room for emotions.
All you need to do
Is take up your mask,
Look around if anyone's watching.
Wear it.
Move on.
Fool others.
But make sure you don't flow
With the emotions.
Make sure you move on practically,
Without being fooled.
Make sure you do not get carried away
With the pseudo stuff.
Real people don't exist in the real world.
They are just found in the books.
Or may be, they are there... somewhere.
I believe, somewhere out of my reach.
Maybe I can find them in the distinct list.
Maybe someday, I'll be able to find them.
But till then,
It's funny, seeing, how everyone in the world
Is busy fooling everyone else
By putting on a mask.
And let's admit,
That after some point,
We all ought to do this mask- task!
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 3:42 AM UTC
No song of yours can hurt me more than
Seeing one child in pain
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 8:40 AM UTC
Dreaming
A calm escape
that can be frightening
And yet better than the real world
Dream time
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
My film class,
Is my favorite class
and the class I hate the most,
I love film,
I have a passion for this art,
this medium,
this class is my soul and bodies passion,
and like a job,
like my job,
it fits me,
but like all jobs,
there's things that just ******* ****
and it's not over the normal things,
like time and money,
its the people you work with,
or in my case,
my class,
and they are all *****
when someone makes it their point,
to upset you and hurt you everyday,
because finally you are good at something,
when you **** at science,
and allowed your math skills to fall behind,
your life is filled with lies and you find,
a reason to live,
worth all your effort and time
but the same people calling you stupid and dumb and a **** up,
in math and science,
are in this film class,
forced to take a smile,
and sarcastically say,
"good job,"
when your film gets played in class,
and even when you ask,
no one give you advice like you give when asked,
and every frame seen on the projected screen,
gives me anxiety,
and the rude, unhelpful reminders from my bullies,
don't ******* help me,
when I want to run out of my favorite class daily,
and scream in all their faces,
**** OFF"
"for once..."
but I don't
I sit,
I bit skin off skinless lips,
hold back tears,
the urge to leave,
take all my insults
that are directed at me,
with a head tilted down fake half smile,
when they should be directed to my film,
but everyday, I do get to say;
**** you,
because this year,
I make it to all my classes,
even the next one,
history.
period 11/12
with my dignity
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
The twisted reality is that bones break. People literally break and you dont always get better. Lives end, stories end, and people rarely get new beginings. The twisted reality is that none of what you thought as a kid was true. Not everyone can be president, and you cant be who you want to be. The twisted reality is that there are monsters in some little girls rooms, and thier moms cant make them go away. The twisted reality is that nightmares only end when you do, you dont get to wake up and think everything is fine. The twisted reality is that your parents lie to you. Not everyone is beautiful, not everyone is talented, and not everyone can be special. The twisted reality is that someone in your current school will become a 'villian' before thier life is over. The twisted reality is that we are all villians. Doing horrible things for what we think is right. The twisted reality is that most people will ignore what i am saying. Live in the lie. The twisted reality is people die thinking everything is fine.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
Spartans had to roam the East
In the land as yet unfettered
Some Nigerians have to find a beast
And **** it to show they've bettered
Barmitzvahs may be tradition for some,
But for me coming of age was looking in a mirror
And realising that I've stopped changing
That I'm just like every other finished piece.
The mark of an adult is seeing a man
And feeling threatened by his size
The mark of an adult is seeing a woman
And thinking dark thoughts inside
The mark of an adult is meeting strangers
And instantly forgetting their name
And instantly not caring.
Many had to tame the wilds to become full grown of old
And we are not so different, we bear a darkness too
We must pass the burning eye of the real world's value of gold
We have to bear the people seeing nothing when they see you.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 6:42 AM UTC
Close your eyes drift into a peaceful dream state.
But wait it's not peaceful, it's a war zone.
Destruction surrounds you, can you feel the hate?
This isn't a dream.
This isn't a nightmare.
Welcome to reality.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 3:26 AM UTC
*
In the real world
I am merely a passerby.
Finding no home to call my own.
I walk the dusty ***** streets
So lost and all alone.
Why then should it be this way?
Is this the modern way of life?
Am I to always suffer loneliness
A life beset by doubt.
*
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC
Some people are blind in this world, others see gold, some only do of what half there told, others in a way seem kinda gay, the words we use it's like a play, we fake, we act, we love unintentionally, we laugh, we sing of memories we bring. Our cups and plates are all so full we stare outside broken windows.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 3:58 AM UTC
A rule of acting:
"Real people lose."
They don't cross everything off the list.
Trophies, good days, and money
require a sacrifice of comfort
somehow already deceased.
It's a slow, steady process.
A long and sometimes plotless movie.
(By the way,
you know who will be talking to themselves
at the end.)
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
It rains diamonds on Saturn...
And there's no need of it there.
Here, we run in short of diamonds
And the desire for it never stops.
...
....
Maybe rarity adds a value.
Even to a piece of glittering rock!
Perhaps that's why we crave love so much...
It's rarity makes it so precious...
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
people don't make you
and they don't ever break you
you are in control
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
I'm afraid to "grow up" because that means I will have reached the end of my potential; it will mean that no matter what I'm doing, I will be doing it to "make a living" and then live that life that I'm supposed to want to live--except that I don't.
I'm supposed to spend eight hours, every day, doing a series of mundane tasks that I secretly wish I didn't have to do--that I secretly wish would somehow **** me--all for a paycheck that allows me to keep a roof over my miserable head and keep poison in my fat body to just keep on breathing so I can continue this cycle of attending this mundane job to pay for this living that feels so lifeless.
And for what? So I can go out a few hours a week and spend my extra time with other human beings--my extra time that I wish I could just spend without--and pretend, for their sakes, that I desire to be with them; that I desire to spend this time here, on this earth, performing for them and the world and everyone else?
So, really, the meaning of life--the reason to go on living--is so that those who spend their own few, precious, extra hours with me can go on, knowing I'll be there, wearing my mask, so they can feel as if they're making a living out of this life.
...But if I don't "grow up," I can possibly continue to fool myself into believing that life will, some day, be worth living.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:42 AM UTC