Am I hallucinating
If I see
What others
Don't

Or am I just
Seeing what
Others
Don't?

‘It’s like you never feel anything’

I do

You just can’t see it
That’s a good thing
Me keeping it inside
That’s a good thing

If you could get inside my head
You'd see how I am a nervous wreck
You'd see how each decision sends me in a frenzy
You'd see how each morning I wake up terrified of what might come

But luckily you don't

I can't have you ruining my reputation after all

To those who say I am not enough:
What box of yours did I not check today?
For that is what you seem to be curating with your life
Empty boxes
Except for those tenderly placed checks that don't even come close to filling those boxes up
I do not want your empty boxes
There is enough emptiness in the world without you forcing yours on others
In my life, I want to curate boxes full of love,
Of hope
Of tenderness,
Of acceptance
Of inclusion,
Of forgiveness,
Of unconditional, raw, fulfilling purpose and everything-ness,
That everyone should find at least once.
For it is when these boxes are full of the good and true things of life,
That they become gifts.
And it is these gifts that should be given to one another,
Not these empty boxes with the ghosts of your disappointed expectations
That I will never be able to check and satisfy you,
Or bring happiness to you.
So I do not care I am not enough to you,
That I fail at checking your empty boxes.
Because here I am,
Bearing my giftboxes that I have tried so desperately to fill,
Hoping that you become brave enough to open them and find
You are more than enough,
And you can leave the shackles of your empty boxes and checks behind.

She says she is too short
Will have to stand on stool
To kiss my lips

She says her afflictions
Different only in that
They are all too great

She says I can find
A better edition
Of any year I choose

That all the combinations
In searing truth
Are just to much to take

It's this , then that
And all of the rest
She say's I should detest

But when
I hold her in my arms
I know I found my place

fallow winter does not bring
peace to the restless soul
finger-licked, waiting
on subtle winds shifting
for the tropical taste
of exotic droplets of rain
a salt-stained remembrance
in this time of dreaming

red-light ladies hatch
in raftered minds
a mass awakening
beneath hardened shell
freedom awaits wings
a collective opening
an essential
transformation

I'm sleeping, or maybe it's a dream.
That everything is fine and you are exactly what you seem.
It would be different,  in another world i think.
If i were to able fly, but you force me to sink.
I'm drowning, I've forgotten to swim.
The lies you tell, like anchors, pull me down from within.
With my last breath, i need to say.
Everything I've never said, all my thoughts I've locked away.

So you think that you are perfect? Because thats what no one sees.
Take a look at the water, your reflection, you'll see what i mean.
Your lost, trying to stay afloat. I wish i were the wave that sinks your imaginary boat.

So while i'm drowning, asleep in the dark.
Please stop lying to yourself and pretending to have a heart.