Free your soul
of the pride that
destroys your all
Free your mind
of lust, greed and gluttony
that haunts your
every doomed thought
Free your heart
of the wrath that
blinds your eyes
and sloth that
makes you lose your path
Free your eyes of envy
that eats you up like jealousy

Move me
like a river
that moves the branches
of an enormous tree into
the deepest zones of the sea

I won't sing you a love song
nor I'll ever dance along
but I will tell you this,
you are the light that shines
through my darkest moments
that fights my deepest fears
that lights my whole life
you are the one who
makes my whole life
with your simple words
of care and sweet love
my one and only
I wish you nothing
but the happiest of days
on this special day!

Happy birthday SULTANI!

I won't cry
for you tonight

Lonely people,
pop a bottle,
raise some glasses
and **** this night up

Lonely people,
wipe your tears,
face your fears
and **** this night up

She might loved you
but I loved you more
than anything I've ever
loved in my whole life
she might been there
when you needed her
but I was there when you
didn't even need a thing
I loved everything about
you even your darkest
secrets, flaws, imperfections
secrets that you only shared
with me, flaws that were
nothing but perfection in
my eyes, imperfections that
made me fall in love with
you more and more
I loved you despite all the
pain you caused, the long
sleepless nights and every
single piece you scattered
of this shattered heart

You see the thing is
words were my thing
since I was a little girl
I loved writing poetry
and stories that might
never come true but
with you I can't say
a single thing without
choking on my own
words while my breath
is taken by the beauty
of your eyes

I write my best work past midnight,
when I'm drunk off insomnia.

No matter how my day goes, I find myself ending up here.
It's past midnight and I'm sleepless like every other night.
No matter where I go, I find myself looking for you in every word and every sad song.
It's terrifying, how you managed to consume every single thought in my mind and made it all about you.
No matter how hard I try, I find myself running through the old scars you've left on me.
It's 3 AM and all I think of is the way you used to run your fingers through my hair, the way you took my breath away each time you looked at me and how you were both my heaven and hell.
No matter where I leave to, I find myself back at the same place you've left me and with the same ghosts that haunt me.

When I tell you that I miss you, you should know that I'm lying. I don't miss you, I miss the shivers I used to get every time you touched me I miss the way you used to hold my hand and play with my hair but I don't miss you. I miss your drunken calls at 3 AM in the morning telling me that you've had it with the life and me I miss how I drove you out of you mind and back to your senses every time I'd gaze into your eyes. I miss how you would drop everything every time I asked you to come over I miss how you made your whole world revolve around me but I don't miss you. I miss the late nights of ***** and cigarettes by the beach and how we used lay there just like little children so innocently till the sun rises. I miss the feeling you used to give me I miss how you made my heart beat out of my chest I miss every single little detail of what we had but hell, I don't miss you.

If a writer tells you it's not you it's him
don't argue and believe him
you see the thing about writers is that
just like the waves of the sea they're never stable they crash into themselves trying to keep what's left of their sanity you'll think that they have this perfect life because they write so perfectly but you're wrong because most writers don't believe in perfection they believe in the power of absolute madness and other writers don't even know what to believe in and when they fall they don't simply fall in love they lose control and fall recklessly like there's no tomorrow they can make you the happiest person alive they will revolve their existence around you they will feed on your love and breathe you in they'll want you and all of you to them only because they'll become somehow selfish when it comes to you and you should never forget that you're the source of their happiness and without you they will never be whole they'll write russian novels about you and fifty pages of describing the beauty of your soul they'll make you the most beautiful thing they'll make you heaven walking on earth with their words and poems they'll make you alive but if you ever hurt them you'll be done gone forever you won't exist anymore even if you screamed for your existence right in front of their eyes they'll scratch you from the poems and all the love letters and you will become a nothing but a hovering memory of a ghost and even if you beg and plead on your knees they will never be the same because when writers have broken hearts they end up with broken souls that will never stop writing about the pain and agony you caused so when a writer tells you it's not you it's him just pick up your stuff and leave.

Let's raise a glass of champagne shall we?
let's raise a glass to this lovely night and this beautiful
bride let's raise a glass to the love they have no matter
how crazy it sounds let's raise a glass to the man who
captured her heart, to the man who kept his head even
when he lost his heart to this beautiful, spectacular bride
and a glass to the most amazing parents who raised her
till she grew and blossomed just like an alluring rose
here's to the most dazzling couple I've ever seen in my life
may your life be long as the divine endless summer nights
and your love shine your way brighter than the lights

What inspires you?
a friend once asked me
I looked at him for
a while then answered
I'm inspired by the
pain of the tormented
souls that hovers around
us and the late nights
of whiskey shots and
sad songs by the pool
and lipstick stains on
the broken wine glass
I'm inspired by the
history of what love
is supposed to be
by the couples who
chose to stay and
never left their lover's
side who stayed during
the storms of recklessness
and nights of madness that
drove them crazy but they
stayed no matter what they
stayed and they didn't leave
I'm inspired by the agony
I put myself through every
night I keep thinking of him
the suffering that kills me
slowly yet so **** softly
the masochism in myself
and the sadism in his
twisted terrifying flame of love

It's 4:55 AM
And I'm wide awake
waiting for a txt from
you or maybe a call
but I know that you're
there in your bed safe
and sound sleeping
like an angel from
far above so peacefully
that the other angels
watch over you and
smile

I can't write anymore
I can't write because
all I think of is you
and all I want is you
I can't think of anything
but you and your eyes
and that smile that takes
my breath away and that
laugh that brings me joy
and the way you fool
around I can't *******
write because every time
I try to write I end up
writing about you and
you and nothing but
you and I can't do this
anymore I need to write
but I need you even more

2:00 AM in the morning thinking
of you and what you might be doing
remembering the way you stare at me
and smile remembering the way you
mistakenly touch my hand and look
away the way you play with my hair
teasing me coming so close but you
end up leaving me yearning for your
love but you're never pleasing me

2:15 I stand and stare at the mirror
I look at myself and try to reconsider
every step I took trying to get near
every move I did to make it so clear
that all I want is you but I hide the fear
of losing a friend and a potential lover
all this pain I have I just need to cover  
but every time I try all I get is an ERROR

2:30 I take out an ice blue ****
**** it I tried to be **** strong
but everything I do turns out wrong
and I know this pain will take too long
to fade away so I keep singing this song

I once bumped into an old friend
we sat there and talked about how life
drove us into madness and left us with pain
I asked him furiously, why don't we get
the joy instead of pain and the vain?
the pleasure and euphoria of *******?
the endless love of being absolutely insane?
my friend looked at me and laughed
hysterically, I recall then said to me
my dearest, we're ******* writers
we don't get the joy nor the pleasure
in our existence we get that in our
words, poems and prose but in reality
we can only dream of that never ending phase

*****, who you think you are?
you're just a drunk fella at the bar
coming to my face and dissing me
your opinion ain't **** to me
my words are my **** pride
I wrote when my heart cried
I wrote when my soul died
I wrote and god knows I tried
to be better but now I just ride
with poetry running in my veins
and prose coming straight from my heart

I look at you and see everything I've ever been
everything I've hated in myself and loved in you
everything I wanted to change and everything
that made me fall deeply and recklessly for you
fall for how imperfectly perfect you really are
lost and confused not knowing where to go in life
I see the pain hidden behind that breathtaking smile
the agony of being alone with the people you love
the agony of having no where and no one to belong to
no one to relate to, no one who could understand this
madness, fury and rage that makes you want to leave
just let go and leave it all behind and start over
somewhere new with someone new but it's sad
that you can't ******* pack up, just leave and let it go
the people you loved the places you've known
the pain that's stuck on your heart and soul
I look at you and see myself through those eyes
see my pain my anger and my hidden flaws
I see you and see in you everything that I've ever been

When you lose a lover
or a dear friend
you might
get them back
but they'll never
be the same
ever again

I never know,
what to do.

I might not remember every lips I've kissed
nor the the broken hearts I've left
and the insane nights I've spent
but I will never forget those eyes
that were truly heaven sent

You see the thing is
I don't wanna spend everynight remeniscing about the way you used to look into my eyes,
regretting every single moment we had under the shining stars
and tearing myself apart for a memory that strayed in the dark.
Your laugh that brings endless joy to every bit of my broken soul,
that smile that drives my wrecked heart insanely wild
and the way you stare right through my heart seeing it beat right out of my chest, beating with love
Your love,
Our love,
The love we've never shared but somehow had,
Never expressed but felt every time you mistakenly touch my hand.

We never want what's good,
we never need what's better
and we never long for what's best.
We only passionately crave
what kills us in that bittersweet,
slow motion.

Oh,
no dear,
I won't **** you with knives and swords.
But darling beware,
I'll rip your heart out with my poetry and prose.

I'm a ******* writer.
I don't need a gun to **** you,
nor a **** rose to impress you.
I'll make your whole world,
then take it all back with a word.

This wreckage in my chest is no longer a heart

To the person
who takes my breath away
every time I set my eyes on,

I
cannot  
take
this
anymore

Would you perhaps give me the honor of,
being my everything?

Forever wanna-be yours

He yelled sober thoughts when he drank.
Inked honest words when he wrote.
And if I had one wish,
I'd bring Bukowski back!

I always find myself,
falling back into your arms
No matter how far,
I ride away from you
I'll always find myself,
back on you
Breathless is how,
you leave me every time
The Angels look down to us,
each time we shine

I wanted to write a poem but somehow I forgot

Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to write.
Something about words and books mesmerized me and captured my heart.
You would always find children playing with the sand at the beach building sand castles and their dreams but me, I’d always find myself looking for a shade away from the noise to read my favorite fairytale. My mother always thought that I didn’t like other children and their company. I liked other children but I liked myself more and enjoyed being alone with my fairytales and daydreams. I was raised as an only child. I’ve always seen little boys and girls playing around and I secretly wanted to be with them, to play aloud and laugh so innocently but I couldn’t so I would just smile at them and walk away. I was too shy. Even as a little girl people always said that there’s something different about me, too quite and polite. My mother used to take great pride in that. She had the quite girl with the angelic smile. Yes, I used to smile a lot even to strangers. I never remember why though. I loved her with all my life even though she wasn’t always there, my mother was.. I don’t remember what she was like but they all told me that no matter what, she always loved me. I remember sneaking into her bed when I was afraid, but I don’t remember what used to frighten me. I know that I wasn’t afraid of the dark; in fact I loved the dark. I couldn’t sleep with a single dim light on. My nanny used to tell me a bedtime story every night before I go to sleep.  I remember that I couldn’t sleep without holding her hand and hugging her. Can you believe it? I couldn’t sleep without having my nanny holding me. She was the love of my life. I loved her more than my own mother I am afraid. She loved me like I was her own. And every time she travels to visit her family, I would cry myself to sleep. Remembering her smile, her bedtime stories and every time she held my small hands. My mother used to come check on me in bed and I used to hide beneath my blanket because I never wanted her to see my tears. Every time she tries to read me a bedtime story it never felt the same. I used to write about how I miss my nanny and how it never felt the same with my mother. I used to write about a lot of things when I was younger. I used to love the smell of a new notebook or a book. I would read a book then write about how I enjoyed it. I used to have a lot of pens and pencils I loved pens because they made my handwriting look pretty and pencils because they would let me erase my mistakes. I never chose between them so I found myself writing with both of them in every page.
As a child I had so many scattered thoughts, whenever I start writing I find myself end up drawing on the same notebook.  I loved drawing as well. I used to buy all the different pencils because colors were too much for me. I loved seeing them but I never liked using colors. I loved every shade of grey there was. And I loved my pens and pencils the most of all.