we climb
higher and higher
in our ivory towers
land is at a premium
a square foot a king's ransom
so we dwell among the clouds
eye to eye with the birds
though never know their freedom
we are with the stars
though we burn out
their celestial light
we can whisper in God's ear
though above the clatter
he may never hear us

Help!
Hold me
I am
A glass half empty
Trying to fall into a larger cup
Metaphorically speaking
I am the one looking for innocence
It'd be easier to be empty
Than to toss it all in poor judgment
Possessed by this desire
A fire rises, and I'm just a fly on the wall
An anthem of indoctrinated philosophy
Wondering where is the merit in being avenged
Hold me, before I slip across the edge
Into a glass half empty
Engulfed by saltation into my darkest dreams

Crowded streets, alive with a rhythm
That moves too fast for me.
I carefully weave through a town for the artists
Who need someone to be,
Into a quiet place;

A crowded mind, sustaining an echo chamber
Fit for our times.
Surrounded by a thousand decisions
I look back at a life
Up on a pedestal.

Where I missed the signs in smiles and glances,
And hold out for those second chances
At the moments that I've missed;
Never lived.

(I) Detach from the dream disrupting the rhythm
That makes you you, and me?
Lost in time;
Compulsively collecting the moments
That made me want to be
In this quiet place to read

(Read) All the signs in smiles and glances;
I won't change the world discarding chances
To move on from when we lived,
But we'll live, we'll live, we'll live...

(I'll live)...through all the second-hand supposed answers
Composing poems in hopes of small advances
Towards the peace of mind I need
To find me again.

Crowded streets, alive with a rhythm
That moves too fast for me.

It’s hard to be your own person,
to move your singular body in its own direction,
when every corner is already crowded by other thoughts.
Your limbs brimming with self-loathing again, brilliant.
Bubbles of spit boasting as they frame your thirsty lips.
You’re picking blood-stained fingernails with yellowing teeth that never knew the curling cradle of a smile.
At a loss for embrace,
Fake hair plastered by stained sweat to your forehead.
There, in the hollows of your forehead, permanent lines appear prematurely, paving the way for the end of your rabbit hole, spiraling.
Head so full of heavy thoughts that your necks snaps.

it feels like it's all in my head
wasting daylight and sinking deeper
it can be lonely sometimes
but also too crowded
i feel lost in my thoughts
and it weighs me down
but then i remember
i think too much

in just one day
i think about so much
that i really
dont have time
to think at all.

Then..
I can find you
even in crowded situation
and I will hug you
in every prayer in the mid night

So tired
of living
in a concrete jungle
Filled with too many people
who are nothing
but strangers.