A simple bottle,
Cheap chunky plastic,
Designer garbage.
Empty of its liquid energy.
Glossy label parrying the flash,
Glaring retrieval of light.
Sickly bold orange cap,
Impudently tight,
Defending the blanched carpet below.
Moment of fragility,
Suspended on the humid waves of air,
Eternity in an insubstantial moment.
It wafts away from his fingers,
Plastic given wings,
Fixed by his steely eyes,
A forced arc,
Stretching to the ceiling.
Focused intensity.
An infinite gap looms
Instants before the catch.
He didn’t notice the stray,
A camera pointed his way,
Capturing this moment,
Making it magical.
Clarity is threatened by obscurity,
People pressing in,
Bending the frame.
Time is lost,
Too much wasted on boredom,
And playing catch with yourself.
Spine lax, body slumped.
Interruptions and distractions surround.
His face vivid in the mix,
Lost in the wash of faces,
So much like his,
Flushed by the same blood.
His unwavering gaze
Holds the emptiness in shackles.
Second of silence in the crushing sound,
Relentless muttering rumble,
The voices of family,
So constantly buzzing.
Jumbled tumbling voices.
A peanut gallery seeking constant attention.
The camera congeals the moment,
Silencing the mass.
In the absence the bottle and the boy
Infinitely alone,
Endlessly still.

please, just try; love me.
love me with all of your heart.
here, take mine: it’s yours.

A million buds are born that never blow,
  That sweet with promise lift a pretty head
  To blush and wither on a barren bed
    And leave no fruit to show.

Sweet, unfulfilled. Yet have I understood
  One joy, by their fragility made plain:
  Nothing was ever beautiful in vain,
    Or all in vain was good.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

You seemed to be made of glass.
One single touch, and shards of you would fall at my feet.
I remember how you thought you were transparent, fragile mass.
Even your appearance was lonely and obsolete.

I wanted to fix you,
and make you feel whole again.
To hold together your shattered pieces and make them brand new.
Though, I knew you would crack every now and then.

But like old, damaged glass never again to be sought,
You concealed yourself in the corner of a room.
Feeling too unstable to be around people who are not,
Your brittle bones continue to crumble inside your tomb.

When I glance in the mirror, I too, see demolition
I recognize the hollow face as “broken.”
I see the decaying smile due to years of repetition
Of being silent, invisible, unspoken.

I think it’s beautiful that I find you in myself
Oh, how you were decomposing,
How you were experiencing hell.
Now, I find my eyes subconsciously closing.

There are fractured remnants of you that I have found piercing through my own skin,
Any blood that has remained of you has been found in my veins.
Because you realized that in fact, nothing about yourself was shatterproof within.
And now, the only physical residue that I see of you is the reflection of my own pain.

I can feel the blood dripping from my palms to my arms
Because I’ve been carrying fragments of you that I have found in me.
As though enduring through the turbulence of self-harm,
It feels as if I am being washed away at sea.

My being is still lingering around the thought of you.
Wandering around the absent, dim light that used to refract through your eyes.
Wondering if you knew that I am broken, too.
My splintering heart has been translucent to your lies.

Yet under the surface,
I sense every single emotion that used to fulfill your soul.
And now a part of me is pondering if it is ever worth it,
And another fraction of me is wanting to feel whole.

And now, as I stare at the manifestation of you that is me,
I am afraid that I will follow your trail of shattered pieces you have left,
I am terrified that the weight of you will crush me slowly,
I am petrified that the ghost of you will leave me suppressed.

Because I can discern your cries echoing through my ears at night,
I can feel the shivering of your voice when I speak.
I hold in your longing-- that is now mine-- for my hands to shake from left to right
As I am too inhibited and meek.

I can perceive the fear that you used to possess.
The prospects of your vulnerability are scratching at the interior of my lungs,
And it’s killing me, I must confess.
Your agonizing whispers are spoken through my tongue.

But even with your broken remains lying heavy on my shoulders,
I will transform your fragility into competence.
Even with the burden of you, I will regain my composure.
I will alter your doubts into confidence.

Still, no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to ignore you.
Because you surround my thoughts like a picture frame.
Because your jagged pieces have scarred me like a tattoo.
Because trying to forget you is like trying to forget my own name.

Blue lips
Slow hips
Sway away, darling
I need to relax
But I more-so need
To express myself
To dress myself
With a smile
Fragrance myself
With positivity
Your passion within itself
Is my favourite scent
It is sweet
Like recognition
For who I am
But gentle
Like your touch
Like your art

Blue lips
Beautiful even when hurt
Soft even when bleeding
Swollen with effort
Stolen with a kiss
You touch my soul
With less fragility
You are rough
With your ideas
Your beautiful ideas
Share your ideology
With me, please
Spill your thoughts
Onto more than just paper
Pour yourself
Into my heart
As if you haven't already
Come back soon
I'll be here, waiting

Blue lips*
You must remember
That beauty comes
After pain...
You may go through a lot
But I see only more beauty
Within your bravery
I admire you
I desire you
For you are strong, darling
You are fierce
Pretty, simple, complicated,
Like a silver feather...
You just need to remember
That you will not be blue
Forever.

~            ~           ~
Affectionate was
your way
of letting my
worries disappear. . .

How you put your arms
tight around my shoulders. . .

How tender your voice is. . .
whispering words of comfort
into my right ticklish ear abalone.

Believing in me. Lovingly. . .

Your ocean of whispering
sounds. . .Wavered Deep,  
deep love conection. Our
    
Free symbiosis
enhanced by French
parfume, evaporating
from my occiput fragility.
~                  ~                        ~

Don’t make homes out of people because they always leave and take everything you own with them.*
Home doesn’t feel like home without you and because of that I’ve stopped building homes out of people.
But I saw the beauty of the world in your eyes and it always gave me hope.
I’ve been feeling homeless and now I’m always home a lot less because of you.
You are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside and that’s why people are still drawn to your aura.
Depression hit harder than the recession, it had me regressing and constantly questioning my level of progression.
Purple jacaranda petals spread all around my feet as I patiently wait for my heart to make a sound.
This hopeful romantic knows that hearts get broken like mirrors, records and promises do.

All the jacaranda trees in Pretoria still remind me of the beauty that is you.
When the relentless heat of the sun drove me crazy all I could think about was your smile and those hazel-brown eyes.
I spend some nights drinking my favourite wine by myself but this bottle of Pinotage will always taste better in your presence.
I still want to hold your heart like the lonely autumn trees hold the fragility of clinging leaves.
But you’re no longer mine to love and the thought of you being with someone else kills me.
Hearts fall to the ground like jacaranda petals do but unfortunately the view is not so beautiful.
Purple jacaranda petals spread all around on every street as I patiently wait for my heart to make a sound.

How can he be so cocky, fight like rocky
talking in morse code, like a walkie talkie
how can he be so cold, like an ice cube to hold
so bold like a robot that can't be controlled

how can he be so sarcastic, ******* spastic
no fantastic antics seen in plastic
won't bend and won't stretch like elastic
doing flips like a drastic gymnastic

possessed with true ability, like a runners agility
but no flexibility when it comes to futility
a never seen utility with no docility
showing capability, breaking through the fragility

His love gives me static electricity
mixed with waves of fragility
feels like my wool sweater
—so good, nothing else is better

giving thanks
can be a very existential thing
as the legendary settlers in New England learned
when they arrived
   as illegal immigrants
and the natives
   though wary of their guns and swords
taught them to plant
   corn together with fish
and shared their harvest with them
   late in the year

giving thanks may be a very personal thing
whenever we travel far away
are given a friendly welcome
are fed and housed by the natives
and accepted into their families

giving thanks is a very human thing

it shows that we are aware
of the fragility of our life

that it always depends
on the kindness of strangers
who help us to survive
in their world

after all

we are aliens
in most parts of our globe

          * *

Once again, they present you that overused emblem
That you give importance as you are to them
Fragrant and they’re more vibrant than I am
Always holding them while I’m made of gem.
I’m often chosen and placed in the center
Though there are others which I believe are better
I’m feeling quite giddy that I shake my holder
Causing imbalance, I fell fast to the lower

Your eyes, the galaxy where all wanted to be
Like stars above they are most sparkling I see
Vivid planets and black holes that magnifies me
Glimpse it may be but time stops waiting for my chea

Now it’s the moment for the touch I’m longing for
But your hands refuse while you walk near my floor
Instead, you reach the flowers and walk out to the door
Gladly you came back, yet broom punches my core.

Should I be broken for you to notice me?
Should I be so humble crashing underneath thy?
Should I be in pieces for you to stare at me?
You once held me but you don’t look at me.
It is now you stare at me, but you can’t even touch me.

The flower wilts like
a swan’s neck. the sky has not
forgiven her yet.

It’s something I think about often,
Do we fully understand the fragility of this life we possess?

And suddenly a loved one is taken …it inflames you to think.
Every consciousness is a precious and fragile gift.

These lives of ours are fleeting, gone in a minute.
When you suddenly understand this, everything fades into the background.

Pushing 70 now… I choose to soar out of bed joyfully rejoicing each morning,
That life has granted me another day above the dirt.

Life is strong and weak…it’s a paradox.
Keep your mind strong my friends, don’t hide behind your fears.

This life of yours is an amazing gift….live it with a smile!

tanks are marching over my soul
bombs are dynamite for sight
it is unbearable
(if you can't ease)
the pain
the anger
the grief
helplessness and terror
they sculpture our souls
raising citadelles to dwell

I weep words for time not to freeze
it is cruelty that shuts down the mind

countless lives are played at the roulette
the geometry of power is mutilating everything
especially the birth of reality
my fragility like velvet
is soft to touch.
the trajectory of erratic steps,
the fragility and the strength of the world
are visible through bones of glass

hatred is a force that keeps the center spinning,
not turning into a black hole

we are close
the tyrant pushes himself on the brink
the naive world has fortgotten -
tanks are marching over
bodies carrying
the brightest of light -
the event-horizon
of death

Storm Rider(sample the doors)
start with "Riders on the Storm" softly repeated x4)

Try catch me-leap from ground to sky,
light up the night as I fly,
Tip to tip mischievous-watch me salmon leap-avert your eyes,
The Celtic Dragon Storm Riding tonight,
feel the static on your skin lets take flight…
Vast vista’s fistula’s in the earths core,
fly with me you wanna feel more?,
cut core to core claws - millivolt amped,
up to attack lay down my stamp,
Earth tremblin’ rumblin' humbling when I catch the spark,
revered by Tesla - hear me Arc…
Another mic blown - booth in chaos,
I stand firm - you're reeling as you're reeled in tossed,
like ragdoll physics my rhymes rip timelines,
Faultlines and default rhymes?
Never,I’m too clever,agility reveals your fragility,
Claws rip and drag you down …to a sea of tranquility…
Hush now ,shush now,
hear the susurrus as I leave you nonplussed
phase you back to your body  trans warp jump
tachycardia spasms chasms torn by talons,
pounces crush tons to ounces as I flex my neck…
hasn't changed since Wu told ya’s”Best protect ya neck”

Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah,
the Firestorm Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...
Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah,
the Firestorm Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...

Feel me breath blowing like a gale - the Gael without fail,
I inhale and exhale flames of hell,
hellbent- time to repent
you’re scurrying in gullies while I seek your Scent,
SNIFFFF-grrrrrrrr that’s the sound of doom,
from the Emerald shore to the Pharaohs tomb,
No room to escape the breath that melts steel
rabbit in my headlights feel my claws life steal,
oxygen and nitrogen erupt to seal your fate,
debate-berate, get estate in order,
one Molten blast of fast rhyme its over.
scorchmark against a granite wall,
burnt to a crisp by the firestorm from hell,
well welcome to hell do you feel the heat?
Sandman slim dragon never fears defeat,
20 years here  spittin’ in the underground,
Now its time to vacate my space hear my sound
A no go area,gates of Mordor,
dragged by the Dragon to your place of ******,
claws like claymores rake your face,
prepared to ignite,take flight-seal your fate...

Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah, the firestorm
Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...
Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah, the firestorm
Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...

Call me Nukker ******, you're due to be Slaine,
one scaldin' verse melts down your brain,
searing breath - death bursts unprepared heads,
Streets run red with the blood of the dead.
Feel the headwind....blowin' as I exhale.
My fetid breath tastes stale as you inhale
lucid juices sluicin in the Wyrms Den,
just One spark you're gonna BURN then!,
wingspan of an Antonov best back off!,
forked lightning blasts ground - as I take off,
fly head on to the heart of the Hurricane,
calescent death as I stake my claim,
rider on the storm,your attempt? - luke warm,
spells incandesce without stress as they take form,
the Serpent serpentine's through the night sky,
take eyes off mine? - your turn to fry.
don't cry it's fate, conserve your hate,
you perspire before your expiry date,
a Deer in the deadlights I'll open the gate,
to the next realm, next challenger calcerated,
another Champion obliterated,
ardent first to set foot on my Isle
now you're here you feel febrile,
feeble feverish attempts cut short clean sliced,
by the Firestorm Dragon with the eyes of Ice.

(Soft-"Riders on the Storm" rpt x2 Chorusx2 end.)

Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah,
the Firestorm Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...
Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah,
the Firestorm Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by.

**** the fragility of whiteness
I’m investing in the power of everything else
Ethnicity never sleeps
When my skin is light
I have to find other ways
To make white peoples uncomfortable

K.
You are my love. My sin, my soul. The only light of my life. Fire of my *****. Source of happiness, laughter, cries, tears, and oddity. You are that bad, believe me, but never better than you are now. Your name will forever be on the tip of my tongue. But sadly I could never utter it properly. Because probably I would feel shy. I would perhaps feel ashamed, if I dared to do so, or if I accidentally happened to say it out loud. I have never confessed this to anyone else. But I need you. I know it inside and out. I crave for you so much. So much indeed. And I know that deep inside, you need me too, although you are simply too proud to admit it. To you my laughter will always remain a ring of annoyance. It will never be enough. You will always long for more - from her. I will never be enough, because I will never grow up. I will never be an adult. And she is grown up. She is more of an adult than me. She is indeed an angel to your eyes. Her steadiness startles you; and delights your senses. You thoroughly enjoy it when it is so. She is but an image of perfection; her sound of laughter is of tranquility and calmness; she is indeed a pious image, a resemblance of faultlessness. Something that I could never truly achieve. Terrific but true - she is, I mean. Not I am. I will always be a kid. Sad but true. I will always be me. I will always be your outspoken, attentive young tutee to you. No more than that. I will always stay just the way I am. I will never acquire my womanhood, nor that am I inclined to, in your eyes. I will always be a girl. A student. Or whatever it is without surely any womanly attribute. I don't deserve to break my singleness. I can never cure it. To you I will always be myself; with all the misfortune and inability to be a true woman. But I understand that I will never be a woman; I don't deserve to be a woman in your heart. I will never be blessed with such courage, as I am not worthy of that. I am not allowed to enter your realm; a whole lot that is entirely different from mine. I have always been fated to be alone, and will always be left behind, even when you are ten or eleven years older than now. I will always be twenty-three. I can't age, strangely, despite my being a human. I am stagnant and odious, I am static and immovable. I am but a symbol of a fruitless tree to you; who dreams and hopes too high without having the ability to attain its true realisation. K, I am full of flaws, I smell of defects. I am adorned with fateful imperfection. And she has none of this. She is unimaginably perfect; she is all lovely and her beauty invincible. I can never be like her. Never indeed. But I am willing to change; if that is what you desire. I'll let you think that I'm obsessed with you. I will just smirk at your silliness. Over and over again. Hmm. Sounds like you've got no other option. Sounds like you are an idiot trying to comprehend my meaningless words too seriously. But I am just what I am. These are just my thoughts. Let me be obsessed with my thoughts of you. Let me make you appear in my dreams throughout the night. Day and night. All the time. Dreams that are unwanted but inevitable. As long as I breathe; as long as I could still trod the earth, let me think and dream of you that way. Stupid thoughts of obscure infatuation, I know. Guilty pleasure. The killing of my independence, my fragility, and uselessness, yet altogether the expression of my deepest feelings that I have often tried to bury in my chest, a thousand times.

Like I said, I'm willing to change; for you. If that is what you need; your utmost desire to be fulfilled. It is as simple as that; because what pleases your senses delights me, and therefore what delights me is what pleases your senses. I indulge myself only in my everyday thoughts of you, where I could jolly embrace and trace your epic proportions in my arms. I want to touch you, to cherish you fully. I want to be inside of you, just like you're already inside of me. I want to see you by my side, breathe in your air and feel your steady but unrelenting heartbeat in your *****. Your manly *****. The one I have always yearned for. I want to feel your skin against mine. I want you wholly. I want you so greedily. I want you so selfishly. I want you to be just mine. Just mine. I don't want you to fall into anyone else, because I perfectly know they are unworthy of that. Of you. One that should be my sole treasure. My precious treasure. Only mine. Because you are everything. You are the exact embodiment of who I am. You are the gold to my silver. You are the silver to my bronze. You make all of them complete; you rid them of their mutual envy. Just like you do to my soul. You repaint my soul, you release it from its gruesome weariness. You make me feel complete, unspoilt, and undivided. You make me feel as a whole. Unperturbed and unabashed by the torment of love. You purify and keep me warm and secure. You are the one I was predestined to love. The one for whom my love was created. The one I was fated to be born for. The one my very soul was meant to be with. The one that I should cling to, and should clutch tight as mine, forever.

K, you are the only love of my life. I will always want you, although this very simple need might sound absurd to you, and on its own way even seem to be impossible. You are the answer to my prayer, from up above, and since I was but a young, sinless infant in my mother's arms. In you only do I lose my presence, my heart, senses, and the whole streams of my decent consciousness. I long for you, and even in the midst of all anger, hatred, and the world's greatest disdain, I will but always long for you. I miss you, K. You are the only source of light to my heart. My darkened heart. My terrified soul. My raging despair. And unfortunately you seem to be the only one who could heal it.

Your words secretly lure me into your heart,
an art to restart,
my life from your point of view.
The tears of my past evaporate,
to create,
a life where you set me straight,
as my heart slowly inflates, as I fall in love.
I hold on tight,
slightly fright,
but your smile excites me letting me know it will be alright.
Explaining to myself that it won’t be perfect,
you have this effect,
that disconnects,
my brain from my heart,
as my heart takes over the whole aspect of love.
You,
sweet with a high irritability,
with the agility to catch me before I shatter on the ground.
My fragility,
quickly erupts as your arms curve around my flexibility,
telling me I have found, the one.
But even through the storms,
my soul reforms,
to make me a better person,
not only for me but for you.
As it transforms,
it informs us,
that our relationship is something out of the ordinary,
that we have worked hard to pursue.

kiss me -
the bareness of my neck
the fragility of my collars

trace me -
the curl of my ear
the geometry of my spine

choose me -
over &
over

You!
Hey.
Good-day.
I presume.
Pessimistic flu.
Hypocritical to annoy.
The poor man's Rolls Royce
-is the pessimists one good choice.

They live with fragility,
-unwilling rigidity,
-and rarely tranquility.

Some weep at morbid memories,
-others at faithless fantasies,
-do they (or you?) see the precipices
-between the then, now and will be?

So what if you take a blue bruising back-slap
-for your lacking, a juicy reminding
-for regretful whining, lifetime timing,
-miraculous hopes of a future shining
-because you're wasting your time
-and not even minding!

So listen, or in duller cases, read;
-thoughts are naught but mares and dreams,
-man made mind transparencies
-will's the sum of immediacies
-like waiting in your station
-but you're deciding the destination
-your journey fundamentally what you make it
-it's simple but pessimists are complicated
-would you not trade freedom for a life you hated?

Pessimistic man, forget it
Ranting is silly - you just don't get it
You didn't see the golden beauty I bet it
Gold is copper to you anyway
What would Fibonacci say!

Today, somebody's words awoke the ashes of my long dead heart
I know that was much more than mere fictional ink spilling out of a creative mind
I forgot how that felt, years back, you know, emotions
it reminded me of the excuses I gave to myself
for running away from relationships
for choosing to live alone
for not meeting my friends often
for not talking to my family for over a minute
for deciding I am simply not meant for marriage
and certainly not for ever having kids
their hurt, hurt me
and it felt like more than I could take
so I chose unattachedness over fragility
somehow, that strategy doesn't forge too well here
I am too seized by words to even try to be nonchalant towards my current better half
towards strangers over family
the rust has been removed from over my bemired emotions
pragmatism has been thrown to the dugout
those words have left my haven purged
and I am left befuddled, meditating over a paradox
They aren’t my carks, yet, I can't stop feeling them.

Insecticide.
Does anyone know where I can get some insecticide?
I need it, the sensation of that cold, sleek nozzle pushing inside me
My belly button will be heavens gate- inside are those **** butterflies...
Butterflies that tremble and quiver whenever you walk by.
That fragility is my enemy.
The only solace I can ever hope for, is in the desolation of such weakness.
My heart, it would often seem, is on a suicide mission.
So eager to climb up my throat and plunge into your twin pools of blue.
Those dastardly insects are fighting like hell,
Their wings the color of your lips-
The beat of their wings, a mockery of my own heartbeat.
I guess no one told them, their wings flutter for no one but me now
And I have had far enough of their nonsense.
Desires of a lonely heart are fantastical at best.
But nothing can argue with the cold steel of that nozzle
Wedged firmly inside, its mission realized.
And finally it's a feeling that I want to feel, not any of this involuntary *******, "falling in love".
Because I really can't help falling in love with you.
I'd stop it if I could. I'd throw the train from its rails, toss the plane from the sky, sink the ship out at sea.
To forget I ever loved you.

The flowers of June no longer hold that same color.

The bitter taste of the pest control will be the only taste on my tongue.

Not yours any longer, my dear.

You do not say my name anymore;
It's as if I've dropped off your radar -
The two syllables which form my name
Erased
As though if you don't say it,
I'll cease to exist

You do not call my name anymore;
Although I am ever-present -
I do not intend to
Disappear
Even if you won't say it,
I'll not cease

You do not want me anymore;
And it's there that you have lost -
In order to repel this fickle heart,
You must crave it
With total earnest
And sincere desire.

Sitting all alone
at a table meant for six
I think of molecules
I think of chemical bonds
I think of the vastness of space.
I feel every atom in my body
spread out to cover
the empty table
the empty chair
the stillness and emptiness
of the trembling air.
A dull and lifeless chatter
vibrates all around
pulls me into a runaway rocking
like an ocean made of sound.
Most are unaware of
the fragility of the Universe
most cannot feel the
cosmos pull apart.
I grow anxious as the seats stay empty;
despite all my thinking
all my spreading
I still seem to sit alone.

My special talent is being tough.
Not being unreachable,
Not being invincible,
Not being unaffected, but taking blows.
It's a dubious gift, to be sure.
But I think I can no longer deny the fact that my biggest strength in this life is my ability to take a hit and come back.
Yes, there are people who don't even feel the blows that life deals out.
And on the other hand, there are those people who fall to their knees and collapse whenever something hurts.
But right in the middle,
Between apathy and fragility,
That is where I live,
And I think it's the hardest place to be.
To brush off attacks is one thing.
To let them reach you and go on through the pain is quite another.
My special talent is SURVIVING.
My therapist says I need to learn how to thrive.
Maybe she's right. But with my life, I've not been allowed the chance.
What I have had some kickass experience with is enduring.
Surviving.
Going on.
Finding something to live for when everything I've lived for in the past has been knocked down like a line of dominoes.
And yeah, my acceptance of pain makes me vulnerable, but I spring back.
I absorb the force of what life throws at me and throw it right back.
I spend the time I need to crying, hurting, fearing.
But I always rise.
Always.
If you decide to edit the cast of my life, I learn to love new people.
If you take my chances from me, I make new ones.
If my dreams are shattered, I create new dreams.
I am not impenetrable.
I am not an island.
People touch my heart,
Leave handprints in wet paint, leave scars, cigarette burns, leave graffiti, but I
Go on.
They do not destroy me.
They can take, but they can never demolish.
My backbone bends in the wind, but it's made of steel, and you'll never break it.
I am tough, it is my special talent.
I fight wars every day that you will never know about.
I rise ****** each morning from battles against dreams of your arms.
And I will tell you this, my darling, my tyrant:
You can conquer, but you'll never win.