You used to punch me in the breast;
You left me, always, feeling distressed.
You wished and hoped upon me cancer;
You never were a romancer.
You once strangled me on the ground;
You were different when others weren't around.
My pain always made you happy;
......
Everything written in the stars,
Things that are so unsure under the lens of worry.
To let them heal, not burn the scars.
Still needs some time—not hurry.
Why what I absolutely despise,
What I'd never allow—never ever,
Popping in my mind as uncomfortable surprise.
How can my beliefs in living ever waver?
......
Gold is best, we all agree
A timeless thing of beauty
Gold is merit, gold is wealth
Olympic medals, trophy shelf
Men pray for gold, or go to war
Or break into the jewelry store
To hell with frankincense and myrrh!
The wisest wise man brought it first
......
yy
Continue reading
Could this emotion
be something unknown
a foreign language
never spoken to the living
I can't understand
this feeling that I bare
is it something to express
or is it teenage-
not actually there
......
You used to punch me in the breast;
You left me, always, feeling distressed.
You wished and hoped upon me cancer;
You never were a romancer.
You once strangled me on the ground;
You were different when others weren't around.
My pain always made you happy;
......
They asked if I was removing sweetness…
while I was only avoiding deception.
The deception of masking everything with sugar.
Why must I sweeten every truth
just because comfort is familiar to you?
Are we meant to accept comfort,
or simply deny what is unpleasant?
......
Everything written in the stars,
Things that are so unsure under the lens of worry.
To let them heal, not burn the scars.
Still needs some time—not hurry.
Why what I absolutely despise,
What I'd never allow—never ever,
Popping in my mind as uncomfortable surprise.
How can my beliefs in living ever waver?
......
And then I said I don't like fantasy.
It feels like comfort, but no—
It's not true, it can never be...
So realism is where I live,
the bitter truth like black coffee,
over the candy of imagination.
Maybe I don't hate sweets; I'm just too scared.
Too scared that it results in an aversion to the reality I exist in.
......
The lurking demons,
Lying deep down within me,
Strive against my good.