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You are my outlet of happiness,
my unashamed feeling of euphoria.
And time still wastes, yet, it's with you.
You. My guilty, shallow pleasure.

You are the filter of all my worries,
My constant visual reason.
And in y our presence, i frivolously link,
my fragile soul with yours.

And I would be completed,
If only, this were true,
and i was not sat here writing this,
Imaginary truth.

Oh Mystery

I run through the busy street, to follow your scent.
The one that fills me with a soft buzzing that weighs down my head.
Your oblivious nature leaves me in your peripheral, where I always stay.
Please wake up and realize, don't leave me this way.

But then I think about it and I think of all the times,
they turned around and left me searching for more signs.
and there was none even though their soul was left for me to search,
and i found nothing there for me to want to keep in touch.

Oh mystery, i almost want to keep,
you secretive so you can't disappoint me.
as everyone does, when i reach them through the crowd.
So mystery, please don't leave,
just don't turn around.

Reality creaps up on us

	open doors, to lolipop floors. spiked with sugar cane glass. through liquorish light. the darkest night, rips to reveal the rotting mass. i cannot see as i'm asleep, away in candyfloss land. bur reality keeps seeping into my cloud, keeps seeping up through the sand. it pops up into my fairytale beach, and my sea turns crimson read. and the waves crash down while im fast asleep till reality has drowned me dead. I'm not too sure what inspired me to write this poem, I can only interpret it as my own perception of false happiness, and the things we try to cover through are goals in life, like money or love, like the type of dreams and aspirations we use as a blanket to cover all our dirty secrets, and bitterness. I feel like if we keep building on top of a rotting foundation of consciousness, and do not sort out those problems, like the type of infliction others have caused, or the infliction we have put upon others, then everything, the most intricate of problems we haven't resolved will come back to haunt us.

Time Warp

Do you ever feel like your stuck in a time warp?

like, you ride it out, when everything seems to be happening for everything else, and your just waiting, but nothing ever changes? Like you can predict each little meander of fate, and your not surprised by the absolute emptyness that follows day after day..

Like, you just notice that it's all one big routine you follow throughout the day, striving to complete all the tasks, just to keep up with the next day that follows, the exact same way.

For me It's, get up, breakfast, school, home, eat, play guitar and go to sleep as early as possible.. i've just gotten so bored, the highlight of my life is sleep.
And I have no idea how to get out of it.

blah

I was numbed and couldn’t see, you crying beside me,
You fell and it seemed I didn’t care, your soul had lost its meaning.
He crept inside your fragile mind, I found you when it was too late.
Your heart on the floor, and your eyes looking like a scream
Your eyes glinting with fear as you walk down the hall
The echos of madness that once was is gone.
Yet, the madness gushes in..

And your numb… I couldn't see. It happened suddenly.
You were alone as I stood beside you.
I'm sorry that the things that happened have happened. 

all of a sudden

My tears run dry, My laugh turns mute.
I do not hate, i do not love.
I only sit. and sieve.

As days go by, i see the change,
though every day has gone the same.
faces don't protrude and skip my heartbeat,
Kind words sound through my hollow heart and fade.
Bad words sound through my hollow heart and fade.
I no longer jump at the sound of my name.
as if predicting each meander of fate.
All of a sudden, All of a sudden,
suddenly slips by to predictability.
And I'm numb.

A figure of Time

As if a malfunction occurred and thoughts that should have been sorted,
enter into a sea of trailing threads which my mind has absently aborted.


You forget past days as they slip by like sewing slipping thread,
each stitch you sew imprints the present,
while the rest unravel and fade.
You try to rememver week old faces,
but they all fade into the grey.
Memories never meant to blur,
shift like shedding tears and fade.