You are a great friend,
Mi Aŕmour.
A friend i've saved wishes for.
But what must be said, must be said that you can't fathom my grief and the weight of unsaid.
You drew over the mountains of stillness of mine
and felt the breeze of all my trades yet my grief is something you finger point and critize.
Telling that i over dramatize.
Not in words but your actions tell
and i hold every reason for this friendship to befell.
Yet i cling,
i cling,
i cling to belief that this grief must not be shared as it will be ridiculed in paper or with friends.
“So be it!” i exclaim as my pen drops.

Grow, grow, grow!
They all said.
When was i ever little?
My memories felt facade.
A way to cope up.
I learned my mother's name by bleeding through it
and
my father's name through screaming it.
Everyone was once someone i tried to hid from.
I tried to run away yet i colapsed and sat on the very ground.
My years flew in denial.
So, next time when i haunt myself for the growth maybe i can repeat this again?
Yet i could not use this as an excuse or a treatment in bed.
This knots up nerves in my brain
How could i go without them?

I yell at dead trees for being too loud,
i strangle them with cold pieces of iron,
i heat them up in fire,
i throw the burdens i can't carry
as no other could listen to this misery of mine.
Everybody has footsteps behind their lane but not me,
I see a creature,
slowing lurking to pull me in.
With every pebble thrown at me,
it shouts to end it all.
It has neither face nor a body to move,
Its an energy i must get through.
my rugged clothes and chimney dark,
my small home and sluggish moves,
my flower of hope with a drip of desire.
That's all i have to fight through this monster.

i place flowers on grave i once was in. Same soul,
different bodies.
One fresh in pulp and other fresh in rot.
I laugh at the irony.
Though i shouldn't.
I take your indifference to me as your cause of death,
maybe the real reason also resided with you in death.
When i mourned my life and what has it become ;
how come you only ever said a thing or two
when i moved mountains for you. Every now and then my blood seized to its attack.
I collapse and get dragged to the grave i seek for help.
Like any sane human would.
I seek for solace from you only to get a “me too”
switched between lands through and through.
So, i had to arise,
dust myself and build a home.
Now, its you who has tasted a mere of what i've been stomaching for years. You wither through and through its tangled strings.
It pushes the flesh out like it once did to me.
Yet you had me.
You had me in the battle i fought before.
Before as a survivor and now as a specter.
I laugh
and laugh
and laugh
and laugh
on how you had me and always did but i couldn't had you no matter how deadly the nightmare felt.

i have been caged up for so long that i no longer feel the rust itch upon my skin,
how the harsh sun melts my fellow mate bones.
Every now and then there's a meal.
A meal so fantastic for cover up that even i believe it.
4,203 meals yet none of it tastes as delicious as meal of denial.
Hard to come by,
get past and stroll upon so i eat it.
Day by day till starvation meets my face
as every meal was just anger,
desperation,
ignorance,
emotional unavailability,
selfishness
as meal is not made of food.
It was never made of food.
“Everybody paints me the villain!” He cries.
There's no paint left over to cry in canvas.
“Nobody understand me!” he pleads and goes away
It's been 627 days since his death,
He reeks.

I've been here for 6,570 days.
a short time i suppose.
it makes my existence so minute,
such as freckles on face,
such as stars in space.
it feels so vague and absurd yet
I have stories to tell,
Families to visit too,
Friends to live for but this
This all seems temporary
It is exhausted in the moment itself
The hope, the familiarity,
The joy, the passion
Everything.
I, again sat to wonder upon my existence
Wondering how true soul is?
I'm here for 6,570 days
They were days i wanted to stop counting it
Yet the numbers refused

Oh darling, why haven't you learned how the heart cowardice disappears for the sake of loved one yet comes trembling back in before them?
Why haven't you learned that those grand gestures of love are just quick instincts for you?
Why you haven't stopped serving your flesh on platter and giving your bones as rich delicacy?
Why do belittle your brittle heart to commend to other's world?
Why do caress wounds which makes you spiral, not on your body but only because it's on other's ?
Decades went by as you sink in your bed.
Your tears grew mold as your eyes shred.
With lingering hope you called for an voice to answer,
a hope to receive
yet all you ever got was a cold shoulder,
a close call to defeat.
Now, you're on your feet.
Laying bricks one at time.
saying, it'll be a memory or a story to tell
smiling ever so softly and lull
your glow can purify this hell.
though you still cling to them,
as a friend or companion or as a soul
though how can i tell?
as i watch you from the distance one could get ;
is the circus missing a fool ? Or did the school miss a ghoul?