The Predicament

till this day I can't digest 
the daunting task of waking up and getting dressed
when my body, mind, and soul SCREAMS depressed--

I mean you hear the blessed words from the best
however only the opinion from one
sticks inside the chest

So I scroll down from Feeling prime, time, shining dime, rollex
degrade down to my lowest
feeling like the poorest

when you ease your self with them suspision tests
testing my honesty, but honestly I'm upset

To see just
how weak you can be, to become the tryant to feed the mad man beast
inside of you rising from your contemplating insecurities

the culpret,
your corporate ego....

Trading Love

Fell in love again

Just found out that

He might belong to someone else

And instead of getting in a fit of tears

I’m extremely exhausted

To have an expression

To truly react to how I’m really feeling

Because losing track of love is normal for me

I mean I’m in my world of dreams

Hiding from a shattered past

To notice that I’m losing my hand in hand

Slapped by the reality of his exit

And it’s so easy to blame myself

That it’s difficult for me to interoperate

His fail sense of understanding

And I continue to wither with defeat

Of my irresponsible control of what now is

My overriding senseless emotions

All seeking to come through

And it uses up all the energy in my nerves

And so yeah,  I’m ex-haus-ted ,

Slightly faint and naive,

I just wish I can trade love

For anything that doesn’t involve any more feelings

Creeping under my skin paralysing me

Before I start thinking

Of a proper way to comprehend when love became so useless

Because it’s easy for me to think of a another way to leave

My future would just be

Me my-self, and I—

And if needed be –for someone to carry my legacy,

There’s always the potential of a test tube baby

 because

I’m afraid to open my heart again

To be rendered in the hands of failure

So yeah, when did love become a perpetrator

That I need a restraining order

From?

Who's the Show for?

Subtitle ( I hate men... I know there are good ones out there too, I distinguished that in the poem but still I'm so sowwy ^ - ^)

I don’t know where this distaste dwelled

It almost calls for me to treat

Them inhuman,

But then again a person

That can swipe through women like

Disposable tissues,

Do as they please to hurt

And hide cowardly

Behind a crowd—

Or use their big booming voice that

Even shuts the most powerful

To grow silent

Shouldn’t be considered human...

Disgusting pigs, that ruin the image of the opposite sex

Claiming their fight for success, cash money, and excess

MJ—comparing themselves to the biggest and the best

Disgusting pieces of shit, they had a story, but yours is plain bullshit—

Don’t mess around with me

I know what’s real –and who’s dealing fake G shit

So don’t act or treat me like I’m naive

Because behind this child like essence is a story

Of a lost childhood

Taken by force and a history of violence

I hide my tears behind smiles

Because I know how it feels

To be at the lowest point in humanity

But what I find surprising is that these men find the need

To put me back down there because they don’t “know” me

I’m the one they know least about – and I’m useless to their success

Well let me tell you this

You want to know the truth?

Baby you can’t handle the truth

And you think that I won’t be useful to your success

Because I’m a useless female, and of the opposite sex,

Honey you should be blessed to know me

Because I try to help you smile even when the world tries to make you frown

Because the only way to succeed is to value what you have—it’s called gratitude

Wanting , longing for what you already have—can only set the bar up higher...

So please do me a favor and consider yourself a failure,

Because a person that can have such disregard for others

Can only fall short...

And wanting to succeed in society, is only foolish

Because a society is made up of the many people

you care so little about,

So what’s the point... ?

Because in the end

After your so called success you will still be invisible—

except to the gold diggers that want something in return...

So tell me please

Enlighten me

who’s the show for?  

Diaries of the Unemployed

Thinking about all the people I know looking for Jobs. =)

I don’t know

In school I’ve been distinguished to be an established writer,

Receiving complements here and there,

I’ve even been told by my teachers that I had the potential to be something,

From a student to a person I’ve managed to come through,

But none of this seems to matter

As I craft my life achievements and goals

On a letter sized piece of paper

I still manage to be applicant 5678

And I wonder... “Do you not like me?”

I mean I’ve gone through this process

Over and over again

Only to processed to another line up, another phone call, and an electronic message

barely a human connection

To put a face behind the author behind the craft

And I wonder... “Do you not like me?”

Because I feel like I’ve walked, scavenged, crawled, sprawled

Up the staircases and down some, to hand out a resume

Only to be passed around a table and tossed away,

At least if you told me to wait five minutes,

I could have saved you the trouble of recycling,

and me the trouble of re-printing a story that can’t be changed,

And I wonder... “Do you not like me?”

A honest individual,

Wanting to be independent,

Looking for a chance to step in—

Not to cash in, but learn another life lesson,

Because that’s how I was raised to be—

Not to count the cheques at the end of the day,

But to check in with the things I’ve interoperated from the day,

And grow as a person...

I guess in this new world of opportunity,

I will be one of those educated—to live under a very expensive bridge,

It makes a far more interesting story...

Like the “Pursuit of Happiness” 

Quarrel My Affection

Considering the circumstance,
Opting your presence was—
Never my intention,
Friendship, with you unworthy;
Love beyond means,
Idealized you to become some uprising hero,
Can’t take it anymore,
Time suddenly creates a new—
Edition. And I hate being subdued by your—
Dictation.

Being a part of,
You,

Your devotion and surreal,
Optimism,
Ultimately falls into my,
Relativism,

Leaves me,
On an ongoing,
Venture—without an,
End.

A Beautiful Minute

For a minute,

Let’s pretend,
That everything has found its place,
Will we be the same or misplaced?

Let’s pretend,
Like the tears don’t exist,
Will it all fall apart or be hard to resist?

Let’s pretend,
That all is forgiven,
Will we be closer or more driven?

And let’s pretend,
Like they weren’t real,
Would we still be broken or have the power to feel?

And should we decide to live this minute, dear friend;
Our gashes may mend,
May mend,
For in pretend, pretend,
There’s only you and I,
Dear friend.

Oh, What to think about?

What to think about?
Oh, a lot of things,
Perhaps, madness that occurs,
Imposed distress,
And a mind that continuously runs—
Despite sleep,

Most importantly,
Guilt, far from self endorsed,
But handed to—by person(s) unknown,
A love—beyond exception,
And a heart ready to collapse,
Dispersed within mess, after mess…

All that is needed is rest,
Sometime to grasp,
The unevenness of the universe;

Now however,
There only exists,
A mechanical monster,

One set loose,
To pounce, and shred souls,
Till in return—its death departs.

Slithering snakes

I’m not conditioned to love,
Rather I’m opposed to it,
It’s easier to seek snakes,
Than to find a man, pure,
The novelty are intrigued,
By the concept of love,
And deem to be true lovers,
Rather they only love,
The idea of love,
And the thought of—
Teaching a skeptic,
How to love,
Love to them is an objective,
An objective of prestige…

A distressed Soul.

Before I see the world,
I renew what we have,
A bond that cannot be broken,

Yet my heart,
It breaks,
To see your youth,
To see your innocence,
Drained by distress,

Sometimes I wish,
My tears,
Could just wash away your pain
Despite the distance,
But for now,
I could only do the best I can,

Please never forget our friendship,
Please never forget my love,
Please never forget my shoulder; of which bears your name,
But most importantly,
Please don’t forget me,
For their would be a new epidemic,
Of a broken heart,
I love you,
I love you,
Please don’t forget me; in your fight for claims…

Charming Stargirl.

The afternoon had not looked promising,
The rain just appeared to increase in volume,
Perhaps delaying, what seemed to be an yearly venture for the 38,

I look around with headphones in my ears,
Tuning out whatever else could possibly go around me, gossip perhaps?
I had not seemed to care,
Until of course I’ve come to notice,
That the crowd was fixated on something that stood near the South-East corner from my location,

I turned to look,
And instantly I was caught,
By the atrocious brightly colored clothing,
That seems to fumigate a neon glow,
Near ready to vomit, I had not cared to look further than I already had,

Once my migraine cleared,
I took courage to take another look at this source of “entertainment”,

She was a woman much older than I,
Light skinned and on the heavier side of the scale,
Her copper hair was up in a messy ponytail,
And she seemed overly enthusiastic about her medium sized cup of ice cream,
I tried looking away for a moment,
To find myself looking back at her as she threw her empty cup on the floor,

I was appalled,
But I didn’t understand which more to be disgusted at,
Her obnoxious clothing,
Her unflattering figure,
Her eating full fat ice cream,
Or her lack of mannerism,

I had taken out my headphones,
To find myself discover,
That the women had been spewing nonsense to herself,
Just as I was about to speculate a mental illness,
The bus had finally reached its destination,
And thank God, because I was awaiting a leave,

I had entered the bus,
And found myself a single seat-er by the window,
Something about the rain initiated a sense of peace,
And so I rested the left side of my face on the glass,

I watched people walk in,
And lastly as the woman came in with a grin,
She had skipped to the seat in front of me,
And I couldn’t help but role my eyes at her,

The bus started to travel,
And Just about everything seemed to amuse her,
It was as though she just discovered street lights and dim colors,
As new people started to load the bus,
She ranted as a puppy set on the loose,

And for some weird reason,
I started to smile as if I was watching a five year old child,
Something came over me;
A slight sense of fearlessness,
And I started to see things through her eyes,
A world I had not lived in for a long time,

People laughed at her,
Yet she had not seem to notice,
Or so I assumed…
Until she looked at everyone,
Met my eye’s—then looked back to the group of boys in front of her,
The mockery, the jokes, the humiliation;
Seemed to matter now,
And so she piped down quietly,
And sobbed so tenderly,
It shocked everyone,

I had not had time to offer my support,
The bus had already reached my stop,
Wide-eyed and teary I walked out the vehicle,
To a world that has grown accustomed to withholding love…
I hadn’t had much to say since then,
But remain speechless.

CATHARSIS

The love she feels is vivid,

It’s almost hard to express,

She wants to speak incessantly,

But in his presence even silence speaks,

There is no need for an exist, or an adieu,

She’s finally rested and she’s got her cue,

To stay where her heart belongs,

She’s found home,

In no promises,

Home,

Knowing that there are no expiry dates to false words,

Home,

To permanence;

Because she finally loves,

She has opened her heart,

To comfort and hurt,

Perhaps this is what they call, ‘Catharsis’.

Loose Ends

We were childhood friends,
Posies, daises, and rose petal beds,
Our names alone, meant destiny,
Then I only hoped for,
Those times to never end,

Together,
But so forlorn,
I tried to mend the taciturn tone,
Calm, soothing, sunshine,
I had not searched,
Past the golden memories of yesterday,

Yes, I was accustomed,
With my prolonged comfort,
Safe,
But in the hands of compromise,

And it came to me suddenly,
Paralyzed, yet alive,
How could you tie loose ends, to sever to repair?

Finally, here comes the time to let go,
But who’d knew,
It would be I, to hardly get a goodbye.

Head Rush

The world moves so rapidly,
Almost too quick it’s hard to recall what happened during a day’s course,
Often we find ourselves alone,
Ready to crash, no power left to function—
Just near destruction,
Mass addictions,
Isolation from self and others,
And mere ignorance,
I guess it’s these severe aspects of life that make it difficult to accept,
The small things that build greater happiness…

MONSTER

Sweet innocent girl,

Emotions swift as tempest,

And has a heart that slowly kills her soul,

Her intentions are beyond nature,

She seeks possessions that can only be taken,

She is the killer of all,

She hunts in search of fear,

She is unborn to any,

Now evolved; molded,

In the hands of evil— cold blooded like her—

She is fueled by another’s panic,

With motive her tempts are answered,

“These bastards deserve to DIE, or at least endure a little pain!”

With bits of reminisce,

She tries to hold down what’s left of her innocence—

Opens the white book encrypted in gold,

Reads the first passage;

Genesis, Chapter one;

“In the beginning…”

She laughs a laugh,

Unknown to even herself…

She realizes that there is no hope for her now,

What she once was, has now died down,

Passed as quick as those morning clouds,

Her day turned into night,

She has transformed—

So welcome the master of darkness.

Masquerade

Happiness is my disguise,
For what lies beneath the skin,
A barren, empty soul,
Naked and full of bruises,
I’m wounded without out an ounce of elegance,
I’m stiff as rock,
Invisible as wind,
And tears fall like rain,
I feel human,
But this world –
Treats me like I’m unearthly,
A hurt so deep,
And exposed,
It has become a public disgrace.
Every aspect of life,
Is staged, scripted, and often computerized,
You either follow what has been written,
Or you’re programmed to follow what has already been done,
Unoriginal and old,
Children have now become adults,
I hate what this world has become,
And I hate what this world has made me!

Putin' UP a Show...

It’s locked up; now loosely,
Hidden deep inside my soul,
A secret I’ve kept to myself,
Yes it has never been told,
It’s not among,
But it’s everything I’m hiding,
It’s personal and it isn’t allowed Confiding,
Time to time its essence appears here and there,
But I’m able to conceal; what’s left of it anywhere,
Burry it alive, yes! It’s no longer breathing,
But little did I know day by day it’s feeding,
By the power it has over me,
The lies,
Its uncontrollable temptation,
The conceal-er I call “innocence”,
Or wait does that really exist?
Confused by its bliss,
It was everything that reassured my insecurities,
But now I’m drawn away by its false confidence,
The thought of it brings misery,
What have I done?
The flash back itself induces vomit,
I don’t to be that anymore,
Nor do I want its memories,
But then why I am I called to remember?
Is it its failure to disclose?
“EJECT DAMN IT!”
Expose, Expose,
The fear one day it will be revealed yeah exposed,
But most importantly the anxiety I would face,
If the life I’d worked hard to live,
Be one day noted; as me trying to put up a show.

I feel Evil

I feel so evil,
Showering upon you the negativity of my incompetence,
Poised in manner,
And utterly envious at heart,
I’m falling apart,
I’m falling apart,
I try to be ignorant of the truth,
Whereas I thrust down my sorrows,
To make you happy; and to willingly hand you the crown of my diseased soul,
Because now I’m in demise,
And do nothing more than fantasize,
Of what could have been;
If I was seen as an individual,
Attractive and beautiful,
Talented and confident,
Open than reserved,
Happy than self-destructive,
Or taken seriously,
To be told the truth to,
Had more friends than a few,
This heart ache would be bearable…
But now, I’m merely seen as your second handed replicate,
Worn out; ripped through,
Repulsive compared to you,
ALWAYS compared to you,
This list is never ending…
I’m surprised by your cluelessness,
To you; we have an unbreakable bond,
Little did you know that your hurt is always mended,
Often carried through my pain…
I mean, face it;
People demolish my hopes; to make up yours,
Break my bones, to cure your sores,
And in the end,
I’m all alone,
I’m all alone…
Torn apart heart and soul…

The diary of my heart

The diary of my heart,
Splashes of color beautiful art,
Sweet as sugar,
Vicious as spice,
Never understood,
But perfectly misunderstood,
Gypsies and fairies are my dreams to be,
Pink daisies are for me to see,
My soul wishes for beauty,
While my body walks through distress,
Peace is what I yearn for;
But it’s the diary of my heart that set me free.