The humans didn't stop there
though the words did
circa 2520 AD.

They harmonized love
into a seamless pattern
of expressions.

Once they realised
words were only confining them
they wove patterns of smile
and wove them into faces
(lips were almost discarded)
sewing as many expressions
of joy, sorrow, happiness
and not the least
despair and disappointment
patterns for which were hard to make
as men had all along learned to hide
the brokenness of unattainment.

Freedom from the shackles of words
became the most manifest expression
on their faces.

One pattern was never woven.

Men had since made redundant
the emotion of hatred.

By his side, the devout chant God's glory
in a life so brittle and fragile
yet not lacking in strength to navigate
on the river of chaotic turbulence.

Some are tearlessly silent,
a few are about to embrace a cry
and there is one whose wails
reverberate and pound the walls.

The ascent to the greater kingdom
is adorned with white lotus
and incense that smell of heaven.

Filled with the finality
there is no point denying,
the atheist sleeps on peacefully.

It was a look in her eyes I'd never
seen in his-
Taken a bit off guard but
looking, as it is-
Respectfully, she's got respect but
don't know how to read a room
Respectfully, after a year she stopped making me feel desired
Broken finger, love still as tombs--

I miss that look in her eyes.
She became for me what he was.
Took me a bit off guard but
also built up over a year or two-
Respectfully, I wouldn't ****-talk her but also sometimes she was mean
Don't know, did she intend it?
Or are we all needlessly cruel things?

By the end I felt disgusting.
The beginning was sublime.
I read these poems and realize,
we did it right, and she was mine...
But I see now loving isn't always enough.
You have to work at it.
She tired of working.
I had to leave.

The title speaks it all so clearly, unlike I who slurs my words
To write down what a handful will see, but phrases never to be heard
From obligations to congratulations, it all starts to feel the same
How petty it is I blame everything, how I must feel ashamed

Things I said to prove a point
messages left on read I wish I never sent
The cold is blistering, so are my fingers
Tell me how you can forget yet for me it still lingers

People go on with their lives, wishing for the summer
While I sit hear wishing I didn't think everything was a ******
Its so easy to appreciate the little things in life
But so hard when you feel teardrops turning into ice

Everyone says to seek help, that it gets better as you grow
yet almost a decade later I have nothing to show
Spreading positivity, have no certainty
Of the people coming and going, who matters and who closes the curtain

Future careers, games, girls, what I fear
Further encapsulating that I barely feel like I am here
Stuck between adulthood and being a child
Stuck between a mild nature and a wild imagination

Stuck between what games to play, what role to play
Which school to pay and which job pays better
Payment is engraved in my mindset, my parents make sure of it
Little do they know I hate adult life and I am sick of it

Crushes like a giddy child, in this darned freezing weather
Is it sad I feel better alone, or I feel alone and barely any better?
How ironic my words contradict each other
but thats what we were to one each other

Am I just ranting over you, this existence, or the future?
Is this in general or has my heart finally ruptured?
This barely makes sense, and neither does this life
Play, work, pay then get a wife? Is this why samurai always held a short knife?