HELOO

Hi hullo.
I know you forgot my name.
But I can never forget you.
I may be wallowing in self-pity,
But any way who gives a .
I hardly want you
but I still want
my happiness back.
I am selfish,
I also know that's why you probably hate me,
but that doesn't matter.
You can run away far.
I still got one more moment
staying here.
Thank you very much.

Your star

I can't see your star.
Its the sounds of humans
that scared it away.

I can't see your angel,
his bright wings that
bring to you peace.
The cruel truth
clawed it's way onto his skin
and made him flee.

I can't hear the choir sing
that you say heals your soul.
I can hear alone the steady toll
of a far away knell.

The silence of the deeper level
is a conscious fear
of the descending dark.
Find your own way out.

Your Missayah has no map
and his light was dim
bread was few
and his bottle ran dry.
upon the cobbled graveled path
lies his staff
his body had lied along side,
thirsty, hungered, defeated.

He although steadily rose
with a breath of the cold dead air
and picked up from where he'd left of
as a man with a mission
to a grave digger with a
rusted, blunt reaper.
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Fear has taken over
what the conscious mind
wants to dictate over.
Bleeding eyes drip away the courage
fear filling up the empty feeling.

Burning on the inside.
Scared it to the surface.
splits open my skin in long, curling slits.
exposing the dead person that
was rotting away,
as I trip and fall.

A second a float,
a second a move,
no control over the existing body.
Just the harrowing awareness
that the control is slipping
and the conscience isn't.

the burst of the wind his howling
curses past my ears,
it encases me coffin like-
the curses upon my head
that I have earned.
The guilt of dominance, the guilt of robbery,
the guilt of injustice,
locks my thoughts inside the cocoon of a long held breath
that traps me
and preserves me mummy- like.


The fall is alone stopped by the spray of the eternal dirt.
It's end none has dug,
and my cocoon, seals me away in the gap.
at first I see a bright purple sky with
silver crystals that hang chandellier like,
and chime upon my bed side,
the steady brush against my face
of the eternal dust,
the eternal dirt that is flicked over me...

It' a treasure- me.
The reaper is my grave digger.
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Influenced by Evanescence tracks- Your star and All that I'm Living for.
Due credits.
Imagery is to be fully interpreted on the basis of the fabled 'Reaper'.
I attempt to revisit this theme in the near future. Wish me luck!

Right before 20

Part of growing up
there is a part about each
facet about me
that changes
atleast slightly.
Yesterday all I wanted was
poker strait hair that fell to my knees.
Today I love my beautiful, bouncy,shoulder-length
wavy hair with curls at the end.
Till the day I realized the most amount of styling
I needed was the time I need to make up my mind
what mood I am in at the start of the day.
Milliseconds, but it's an instant failure or success.
For a second I frown at the reflection I saw,
but the me now is grinning with the knowledge that
I am me.
Trust me to justify the stupidest thing that I ever knew of
to be the most important
and taking my time to know what's important
and get my feet on the ground.

My heart was sleeve- loving
the breeze carried a lot with itself
and bits of my heart got scattered away then
but now I know the heart is under so many layers of skin
for a reason.
I don't intend on finding them all,
but right now, my heart is safe and where it belongs,
With me.

-The thought that lingers in my mind
is not the days that I lost,
but it was when days weren't days anymore.
They were moments I wish I could streach into eternity.
But now I love and live from moment to moment.

Sweetness and hope fill me.
There's so much to look forward to.
I can feel it in the wind
upon the oncoming winter chill.
I may frown when it;s cold,
but the bright rays of sunshine across the water that I notice
as I go to college huddled up in a bus
bring to me a smile, a rekindeled fire and the strength
to be who I am,
and be happy.


It seems hard to come by,
but I feel contented today with the way of the world,
that even tough there are a lot of wrong things,
there is a certain set harmony in the working of urban society.
Its the comfort I know, the nature that I would like to explore brings with it fears.
Silent whispers in the wind that are masked by the hooting owl
or the rustling of the leaves
is speaking the heart's word.
No rule that I Must abide,
no code of conduct that I have to stick to,
no threads that pull back my face.
I know I have a grimace at times,
but I haven't forgotten to laugh.
It's that I know, I will laugh no matter what fits or doesn't.
20 years of experience and I have to have atleast a 100 more,
I can rest tonight with hope and love in my heart and dreams that fill my head!

Its when it rains hard like this that

I like to see myself dripping.

Standing in the shower, under the
shower that has no control knob.
Spilling over my soaking skin,
my hair is mussed and lenthed
and silkened as they blend with
sreams of water
My eyes close and my arms raise
themselves, feeling more of the
downpour against my dripping body
The colour of the sky is darker than
the night,
the air is slightly purple and not a
star in sight.
I ponder if its a faraway moon
that watches me,
washing, bathing and frolicking in
the rain
close to my skin, a lazy breeze is
blowing
ripples of goosebumps,
still I want the dripping wet.
Cold at the top of my head,
warm at my feet,
the flow of water along my skin
is the touch of an angel,
it's feathers
falling like fatter drops on my eyes
or lips,
I imprint this feeling into the
deepest reserve of my mind
to recall upon
when my body is dry and barren in

the summer heat.
And the Thunder above has spoken

it's prayer.
He has cast his spell
and more angels bless my skin
as they meet the ground below.
The ground is wet, living, flowing
with the steady addition
of the endless water from above.


Slowly I open my eyes as
everything calms.
Drops of water untagle and drip
from my long hair into the puddles
around me
rippling the happy feeling inside.
A warmth that ripples,
the purity of the soul,
is by the second
increasing.

Little Girl

Little girl,

burn your fingers,
cut your hair,
be brave.

pick up your pencil,
use a crayon,
with the pen,
express.

Walk in over-sized heels,
And play house-
With your doll-baby.
Cook, clean and decorate.

Sit dreaming by the window,
And play with bangs of your
Long coloured hair.

Draw and write stories,
Dream with eyes that glaze
And bring a smile on your face.

And when your heart clenches,
Don’t forget to shed the tears,
You can try and hold them back;
Don’t be afraid.

Meet others in this world.
Look at the angles that call out to you.
Step up to all the challenges that you face.

Put make-up on,
Beauty that will brighten with time.
Just a little bit,
Because your eyes should twinkle
And your lips a grin.


Trust.
And be broken.
And remember to wipe your tears
And stand up again.

Hurt. Ache.
It’s a sweet lesson-
To sweeter moments.

Love.
It’s the most wonderful feeling.
From the bottom of your heart,
Form the innermost part of your being.

Keep secrets.
Read faces.
Don’t forget to pray.

Little girl,
Cradled in my arms,
Your breath so sweet,
Your mind so clear,
Your heart so pure and
Your dreams that sparkle.
Learn these lessons,
Embrace the reasons,
Dear heart,
You are little me;
It’s the beautiful person you’re to be!
It’s you in the future,
Holding your hand and
Taking you to your
Sparkling, dazzling future!

Somewhere

Inspired by the song Somewhere by Within Temptation



I'll find you somewhere
untill my dying day...

My cold white feet walk
along the path of Destiny
but I know my silver dead eyes can
change the road ahead
My ghost is beside me
my humanity was dead
a few days ago
but still I will come...

I'll find you somewhere
untill my diying day...

I'll keep on trying to
change the way they see me
and what they wanted to make

you
Never could they see what was
so serene
Now never will they, what you

could have been

They are the dummies of time
of their own virtues that decide
end of our time
never will they wake from their

eternal rest
to see the Aveyond
turned to

dust.

Hell be not proud

What the hell?? the dust= the air is killing me every second as I cough. it's terrible. its not planned so it's just waiting for my body to heal and get better but the wait is infuriating.. hell has enough to be proud.