Quote #4

A POEM BEGINS AS A LUMP IN THE THROAT, A SENSE OF WRONG, A HOMESICKNESS , A LOVESICKNESS 

Quote #3

" I am
A series of
Small victories
And large defeats
And i am as
Amazed
As any other
That
I have gotten
From there to
Here "
     
           - Charles Bukowski

Souls

seven paragraphs of real

Two months ago i called you at 3 AM

i expected you to ignore the ringing and send me straight to voicemail

those were always two things you were really good at

But you answered and i felt my heart lunge

and you probably thought i called because i missed you

but truthfully it was because i didn't , and i was scared of my calmness

I asked you how you were and i heard you sit there quietly and confused 

it was like you had forgotten i existed and that i wa once a part of your life

you told me "fine" and that was enough, i smiled to myself

That was the last conversation we had and after that i made sure to let go of you, 

and every negative comment you fired at me in a peaceful way

Fast forward two months and im still stuck wondering how you are

I still wonder how dog is and if you've seen any good movies recently

if you ever heard me say this to you and not written on this blog, you'd 

probably grin that sweet grin, and it would remind me of how much i needed you

once upon a time , You'd probably think i think these things because i still love you, but that 

is not the case 

You see, six months ago, way back in June

i would've done anything to please you, in fact i was jumping through hoops

to do so

to make sure you were happy before myself 

to make sure that it was me and only me causing your happiness

But it is not six months ago,

it is now, and i simple remember you as the man i gave my heart to

A person i told secrets to at 4 AM and fucked to feel a sense of closeness

A person i once loved, yes

But it is not six months ago, it is now and now i miss you but do not want you

i miss the way you seemed to care even if you didn't 

i miss the friendship and the secrets and stories

the sharing of our music, knowing that was our way into each other

Maybe one day things will be different

and maybe you'll call me on Tuesday afternoon and ask how my day was 

These are the things i think about before my eyes slowly close and i am finally 

rewarded with sleep after the days pain

but for right now?

Go fuck yourself :) 

WAY OUT

I would tell you about his eyes but he’s heard everything I could ever say about them and I can never quite capture their depth. 

I would tell you about his lips but I am afraid I have forgotten what they look like because whenever he is in front of me, my lips never stay away long enough to see them.  

What I will tell you is I am absolutely infatuated by the way he exists perfectly into my confusion of life. 

I refuse to believe in “soul mates” but it feels like I haven't experienced an insight into life on a deeper level before I met him. 

I have always held my tongue between my teeth as I prefer to spill blood instead of my confessions. 

But there is something about him that makes me want to confess my feelings, he does not let me hold back. 

He hides his smiles between his words, the same way the moon hides behind the clouds.

  It is as if his hair was made to be clawed at by me, his beautiful brown eyes made just for me to get lost in.

  I am captivated by the way time seems to stop and clocks hold their breath when we kiss.  

I get lost in his smiles and I hope that I never find my way out.  

letters

Isn't it strange

how with a combination of twenty-six letters

you can steal someone's heart

and captivate their soul?

And it is even stranger

that with the exact same twenty-six letters 

in a different combination

you can make their eyes fill with tears

and give them enough pain

to last a lifetime

Perfection

That feeling of dread in your gut,
When your stomach clenches, when you
Are scared and trying to remember
Everything you've done that could've
Pissed him off. 
Sitting there, drenched in your own sweat and tears, tick tock tick tock
You know he's on his way home dont you?
You know this isn't a home to you but you have no where else to go
You cannot escape, cannot even hide in your room - he'll be there
You cannot hide in the bathroom - he'll break down the door just to get to you
So all you do is sit there, waiting for him to come "home", knowing that when he gets here, he'll come straight for you
You are trying to convince yourself that he is better this time, he will not hurt you and that maybe, just maybe, you've not done anything wrong
You were a good girl, only his good girl, you didn't let any other man lay eyes on you but still he takes you for a whore
But he still wants a "perfect" girl
So he will keep breaking you, re- moulding you, breaking you and re-shaping you until you become perfect
After all, perfection is in the eye of the beholder is it not?

SOMETHING SOMEONE SHOULD'VE TOLD ME

Wanna know the truth?

Nobody is happy.

 Nobody has skin made out oil paint and

sunlight.

 Nobody fucking understands this world.

  Nobody understands math as much as they claim.  

You're here one day and the 

next you're not.  

God? Religion? 

I've learned a lot more about this harsh world by eating acid,

and swallowing pills. 

 Tell me what your mosque, church or synagogue 

have done for you?  

Tell me if you have holes in the roof of your

mouth from spitting lies? 

 Want to know another truth? 

Pity is just another word for pathetic.

Drink beer and watch the sunrise from every rooftop. 

 Take photographs naked. 

 Take photographs kissing and having sex.  

Stop making everything about sexuality.

  The truth is no one gives a flying fuck

if you lost your virginity at fourteen or if you were the head boy or girl in school.  

There is no such thing as the right person.

  People leave. 

They change like ocean currents, 

they leave you with bruises in your calves. 

 And wanna know the truth? 

You get better, you learn to love,

you find God in 

between the cracks of a wall when you're fucking puking your limbs out

You wanna know the fucking truth? Go find it.   

fake happiness

"are you happy?" is such a difficult question

I always say yes, because when it comes to it, i have friends,

i laugh at jokes, a go out a lot and have fun.

My life isn't half as bad as it could be, and i don't have terrible

problems, it could be a whole lot worse.  

But then one night, one night at 3AM when i'm alone

still awake, lying in bed, thinking about life like very other teenager, i 

begin to put myself into a bad mood and eventually,

i find myself crying my heart out

and suddenly i convince that nobody likes me, or 

nobody will ever like me, I feel horrible.  

I question everything i have 

And i don't know if i was ever happy at all

Indistinguishable Faces

There are people who are generic
They make generic responses and
They expect generic answers
They live inside a box and
They think people who dont fit into their box are weird
But i'll tell you what, generic people are the weird ones.
They are like genetically - manipulated plants growing inside a labratory like
Indistinguishable faces.
Like droids.
Like ignorance.

Love vs. Lust

Love is something devine
Falls from the heaven to earth
It expects nothing for it but
It renders everything to others
Including itself.
Love never ends in lust but rather it
Grows as affection and respect

Lust expects to exploit others
To satisfy its needs and wants
Matured to love becomes grace
Lust may not be so

Lust spoils the character and life
When it develops as aggressive
Love never feeds the violence but
Lust grows in violence and feeds it

To the younger ones
Have love to smash lust
Pave the way to peace
And take the world to that end

Quote #2

“We are not nouns, we are verbs. I am not a thing - an actor, a writer - I am a person who does things - I write, I act - and I never know what I'm going to do next. I think you can be imprisoned if you think of yourself as a noun.” 

- Stephen Fry