#toughts
She says I sound like the flavour she smokes every now and then.
Velvet hookah smoke.
She's afraid, she's not.
I guess I am pretty frightening.
She says you're too real for me.
So different from what I imagined you to be.
She says my life's going too well for me to be negative.
And I laugh.
It's 4:39 and I want nobody.
Not a soul, not à hand to touch me.
People are tiring.
With their words and repetitive situations,
I seldom rather silence so I don't become a répétition of myself.
I take her outside and hand her a slim lighting it up blindly.
She smokes and stops talking.
"give me one" so I take the cigarette and take it to my chest and out my nose.
Such a surprised grimace "you know how to inhale nicotine huh?"
I take one more and tell her I now understand why people smoke ever so desperately.
The placebo vice of normativity.
Smoking is like meeting people.
Seemingly good, foolish and totally unhealthy.
I'm tired of this patterned living.
She says how can your mind go to so many places?
Said that she could drown in my thoughts and I'd still find the simplicity of others fascinating.
Which I am not denying.
My mind's à pretty big ballroom.
With lacquered black floors perfectly made to reflect sound.
And she says she's scared.
Scared that I'm too complex,
Scared because I belong in too many places.
I tell her she's just confused and restless.
I tell her she should think of me less and let the nicotine in her body rest.
And I do confess.
That whole night was meaningless.
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 4:39 PM UTC
He steps outside in search of humanity,
Instead he finds himself staring into an abyss,
Complete silence, it’s more like a graveyard than a city,
He needs to feel the touch of a human because he’s trapped In a state of bliss.
He wants to talk to someone, anyone,
He feels claustrophobic and confined,
The sound of his thoughts is as loud as a shot fired from a gun,
He wants to get out, but he’s stuck inside his own mind.
He hears the rustling of leaves,
He feels the wind blowing on his face,
He can see houses, even their eaves,
Yet he feels isolated, like an astronaut floating in space.
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
Just random words written on paper
They don't mean a thing
Or they mean the world
Is that really my mind
Or just my imagination
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 1:02 PM UTC
Creations. Delete
Friends. Delete
Toughts. Delete
Feelings. Delete
Life. Delete
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 4:00 AM UTC
Villages and mist
All these forests and I drift
Away...far away I make my own fantasy
Wondering why the mist is so beautiful yet so lonely.
Levitating aimlessly above all these trees
I wonder what can the mist see?
Treetops and the grey clouds
Makes me feel free like nobody's around
This dark green and forgotten leafs
Makes me remember the worry-free moments once I was a kid.
And I look at the mist comparing it to me
So beautiful yet only when it's lonely.
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 6:15 AM UTC
My life is not my own, I gave that to God.
My thoughts are not my own, I took them from people i admire.
My looks, good or bad, are not my own, society owns them.
My happyness is not my own, it belong to the person who caused it.
My talents are not my own, they are from the people that spent hours teaching them to me.
It seems in a world obsesed over power through possession, i am left with being my own queen over my own suffering, because in the end no one will take credit for what really matters.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 8:25 PM UTC
Have you wondered about heaven
Lately I've been dreaming about it
Not a place
But a heavenly face
Lately seeing her makes my heart race
And when heaven speaks
The very core of my existence listens
And when she moves
The world moves with her
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC