Dreaming.

I have a dream that our fight for civil rights will not end in sleepless nights,
a fantasy that we can live in harmony with equality
acting as the bridge that connects you and me.
I dream of unity between man, woman and beast instead of
the hatred that manifests as violence erupting in the streets and under the sheets.
My reverie has been interrupted by the greed
that oppresses and hides in deceit filled fleets.
One ship prepared for battle and another for war,
as our chests heave with anger
until we have all become casualties of the rich,
though we remain poor.
This eye for an eye ideology has made the world blind,
forgiveness unheard of in a world where love has been left behind.
I had a dream that justice was real, that our hearts would stay open,
instead our blood has congealed.
Humanity, the only race, instead of
socially constructed labels we were assigned to keep us in our right place.
I have a dream one day man will be judged not by the colour of his skin
but by the content of his character;
loved for what was within and not just based on melanin.
I still believe in my dream, we have not fallen so far from grace that we cannot be saved.
My dream may one day still be a reality,
to lose faith in love would be like succumbing to insanity.
I have a dream thanks to a King who was dethroned by bigotry,
but whose legacy has paved the way for a boy like me to dare to even dream.

Escapism.

A coma would even be better than the reality that is my most skilled enemy.
Numb from anesthesia would be sweeter than being forced to cope.
Desensitized by sedatives so I could get some peace.
Dead man walking now that I've forgotten how to sleep.

My thoughts possess me making my skin crawl like my anxiety is composed of fleas.
I am my harshest critic when I ostracize myself for believing my own lies.
Always waiting for a new day to arrive although my sun refuses to rise.
Time was supposed to heal all wounds but cuts me instead, unwilling to let me rest.

Cancer would even be better on me as it would come equipped with pain that I could see.
Anguish from traumatic events are not tangible;
invisible to the world, so I feel it is an unworthy defense.
Suffering in this state is only understood by others privy to emotional pain.

If only it were simple to explain, and stigma was not saved for illnesses that exist inside our brains.
I was meant for so much more than this life defined by the obstacles that I have endured.
Not measured in success but rather by the duress that has
robbed me of any reason to feel accomplished.

Each lesson pulls me in a different direction
as I've tried everything from prayer to therapy in the hopes that I could somehow change my perception.
The only cure would be sanctuary from my emotions that are diseased.

I would love to be released from the insanity
that circles inside me like a merry go round that will not stop long enough to let me off.
Privileged to be born free, my own choices have imprisoned me;
the abuse I became used to set the ground for the decay that disparages my mind.

I went from hurting myself physically to chasing temporary highs
to mask the sorrows that are so easily drowned in ravines of red wine.
I beg of God to have mercy on my soul and take away the insomnia that invades me,
a cycle that never ceases to end.
My greatest conflict is to regain control of my life, which can only happen once I make amends with my past that I've condemned.

Atonement.

When I break, I fall like Autumn leaves the trees barren for the winter;
like a lover that has taken all it can before departing.
Beautiful to behold the spectacle right before I hit the floor, stripped bare.
All the reds reflected in my eyes, my ire overwhelming me with such arrogant anxiety.
Denied of you, the air, the oxygen that I had depended on to help me breathe,
my world becomes diseased and waits for winter's cold to numb the pain.
My blood has frozen inside me as the reaper waits restlessly through the delay caused by a deathbed made of sharp snow; such a contrast, to the softness of it when I was young and innocent still.
The pieces of me are scattered and on display for all to see and scrutinize.
I am brutally aware, for the first time, that I have spent my life waiting for a sun that refused to rise. My demise is imminent now that the seasons change;
a sobering reminder that life will always go on whether or not
I am inspired to evolve or resigned to rot.
The birds and the bees disappear as the streets become bare, a clear sign indicating the loneliness that is about to set in.
I scramble to find shelter from the abrasive cold that
relentlessly robs the lush green landscape of its clothing,
reducing it to spindly bones.
But in my haste, I have forgotten that I have no home,
as my soul sees its opportunity to leave and escapes through my blue lips,
excited to finally feel atoned.

Blood & Guts.

My high threshold for emotional pain became like anesthesia,
numbing me from the inside out as the contents of my soul had somehow developed amnesia.
I was filled with such ravenous rage that it tore my skin from my bone, like acid rain.
My heart was like a furnace overheating, desperate to silence my internal suffering that had become so scathing.
Wanting to be left alone to wallow in my maladaptive misery,
I let the ink stain my skin, just once,
in the hope that it would set me free from my artificial reality.
I was enslaved by my anger, as hostility reigned supreme inside of me, it was like cancer.
My tears were the permanent tattoos that no one could know,
my vulnerability made me feel weaker with each perceived blow to my ego.
Naive and perhaps a product of my environment
as I wrote blood and guts on my arm, in Japanese, as my eternal punishment.
It acts as a reminder now, a vigil of sorts to the hardened persona that is no more.
In his place is the lost and afraid little boy that raced towards a future that never materialized;
he cowers in fear now his only shield was revealed to be comprised of lies.
My tattoo, though macabre, is a testament to my faith in myself to always be held accountable.
It was unjust and in poor taste for me to play the victim for so long,
unwilling to accept that my own behaviour was wrong.
I now see the error that corroded me and have vowed to strive for change.
Through staring at my tattoo, I have gained the insight
and clarity that are helping me take the reins, an action that was long overdue.
Although I am still fallible, as humans are, I will not allow my demons to leave scars on my loved ones' hearts.

Flashbacks.

Chain-smoking, choking back tears from years of being broken,
I find it more difficult than ever to melt my heart that has became an expert at being frozen.
Like a bell that chimes to deaf ears, I know it is time for me to disappear,
as I feel like a guest that's not only overstayed their welcome
but also lost everyone's respect.
I have became the poster child for neglect,
now that I've made a habit of running from anything that could make me upset.
Layers of build-up have made me smile on the surface when I feel completely worthless,
like a lie, repeated enough to make it real.
We have only just begun to scratch the skin of the shipwreck that lies within.
As I descend, I see that each tier is a level into the fiery pits of Hell.
It seemed harder to conceal the tireless trauma
than to learn to cope motivated by the possibility of getting stronger.
There was no method to my madness when I lashed out at nearly everyone,
accusing anyone but me for my own sadness.
Substance abuse provided an easy escape route from my issues
that are exacerbated now from the result of being refused.
Each attempt I've made to vocalize my pain has made my throat hoarse as my words got lodged between the racing thoughts and their regime.
I need a cure, the kind that only unconditional love can provide,
but my wells have dried; my thirst so dire that I begged to die.
My fears of failing one more time have me scared for my life; I must succeed,
I cannot keep refusing every lifeline.
Each memory rushes in and I am besieged,
forced to confront every element that haunts me permanently,
whether I'm awake or in my dreams.
Afflicted when I should have been free to adopt my own sexual identity;
attacked, held hostage in disbelief, that this could also happen to me.
I blame myself for the irreparable damage caused
when I was carved like meat on different plates then swallowed by predatory mouths.
Objectified, so now I feel dehumanized and displaced because
I am unsure of how to continue without the facade.
I am not okay, nor am I just fine; I'm hurt,
irate and wish these troubles were not mine.
Sinking deeper into myself, I was shocked to find
the lost little boy that I left behind somehow still fighting to stay alive;
I was convinced he had been dead for years, replaced by this man
that I have no idea what it even means to be.
All I ever wanted was compassion, but instead I am slave to others' sympathy.

Soup.

You and I were the best team, we could've been in the major leagues.
I wanted us forever, as I know that we were destined to be together.
You were my hands when my own forgot how to feel,
the cure for my wounds that never seemed to want to heal.

My vision obscured by enemies I could not see,
as I sat cross legged and prayed for clarity in a field of broken dreams.
I didn't hear well enough to listen to your fears.
I had grown accustomed to ignoring any sense or logic.

So it's no surprise now that I've been forgotten.
The only taste I know is bitterness now, its acidity more acrid with each blow.
Falling apart without security is not reassuring,
as I am covered in doubts that keep me from blooming.

Open my mouth to speak,wanting to beg you to stay,
though I've lost the words that could keep you from slipping away.
I beg of you to give us one more chance but then
question how I could ever change the circumstances.

Separated now, my ego is to blame for dousing our love with
gasoline then watching idly as it was swallowed by flames.
We were both important but became imprisoned by all the things we never said;
the silence became the norm as we were devoured by the underlying sense of dread.

Darkened by our union, we lost it all in a few haunting nights.
The days that followed only revealed that nothing could make us right.
All our desires burned and became ashes from the wildfires that we started but never put out.
Passion stripped away, left me naked and afraid,

I didn't know the words that could somehow convince you to stay.
Now I stand alone, surrounded by fog that has replaced your presence.
Without a good defense, I am reduced to tears as I mourn your loss alone.
It's awfully cold without your arms around me; you were the soup that warmed my soul.

Corinthians.

If love is patient and love is kind, then why does ignore the tears we bring to our lover's eyes?
How can I love another soul only to lose all self-control, barricade myself in a room with insults and obscenities as the padding on its walls.
I love unconditionally, without expectation, then harbour resentment which materializes as frustration when it's not reciprocated.

If love does not envy then tell me, how did I feel resentful of the simplicity with which my partner loved me, when my own journey was an emotional, and wild ride?
Uncharacteristic of love to boast or be proud, yet my own experiences with it fill me with guilt that permanently lingers, like a storm-cloud that shrouds the world in grey, then turns it upside down.

Love is not meant to dishonour others, yet here we are ashamed that we let down our guard.
If only I had held on tighter, neither of us would now be lost.
Remorse is a wicked thing as it will not let me let go, knowing I have caused you pain and scarred your soul with my twisted misinterpretation of love.

It's rumoured that love is not self-seeking but, in retrospect, it's clear I always put myself first.
I belittled you, repeatedly; each barb cut away layers of your confidence, and then I pursued you until you were convinced that all I uttered was a lie.

I commend you now for staying in my wicked game for as long as you did, admire your resilience as you became skillfully adept at handling my illness.

Not easily angered, love can only withstand so much before it has had all that it can take and decides that's more than enough.
Forced to be calm and bite its tongue for far too long, our love began to choke from all the toxic trauma that it had swallowed.

Love is not supposed to keep records of wrongs but how should it forget all the sadness, and somehow just be strong?
Is it eventually not a lack of love for oneself that keeps forgiving another's abuse despite putting them through Hell?

I delighted in evil though I denied it, depriving us of liberation from the truth.
As we held one another for the last time, I wished I'd never been such a fool.

Always protects, trusts, hopes and perseveres; if only I'd learned this sooner, maybe we would have been in love for years.

Love never fails but once I allowed ego to invade our love, insecurity was all that could prevail.

Alone.

Logic would be appreciated if it helped me figure out a way to be okay,
to survive each tragedy, like acts of terrorism that leave me shaken but unscathed.
I no longer believe in miracles now that hope has let me down.
I had faith once, too, until it showed me that we are all alone,
until the day we die and from the moment we are born.
In theory, all the strategies to stay safe sounded like they could work,
until I tried to practice them and saw that my anger could not be reversed.
Deterred and feeling desperate, I tried to stay hanging on
though my grip was weakening with each new blow that I was dealt.
Reason became unreasonable to me, as fictitious now as fairy tales of mermaids in the sea.
Unable to accept the desert that I woke up and found myself dehydrated in, although I could acknowledge that my aggression was responsible for my loved ones' abandonment.
Unrealistic to assume the casualties of the war I waged against myself
were saints and could repeatedly forgive me for my torment.
I wish that I could just get it right so that love and I
would not always be like two ships passing in the night.

Holy War.

In you I saw the world, you became the eighth wonder faster than I could run away.
But then you took me by surprise,
I was caught off guard and shell-shocked when you left me,
now I'm blind.
My soul was elated by your touch, I felt like the only man alive from your attention.
Now I have been robbed of my ability to feel, my nerves unnerved in your absence.
I swear I can still smell the fragrance of your breath that gave me chills.
Each day seems longer and more empty now that you're not here.
Homesick because I miss the distraction that I felt inside your arms.
Hours could pass and then you'd depart,
oh how I craved you then, wishing you would stay.
Almost as if I knew a day would come when we'd say our last goodbyes.
Now I'm burning; my dreams can only be satisfied by you.
Validated by your existence, now the threads holding me together become loose.
I am still under your spell, just one look from you and I could fall again.
Hopeful that our story is not over, just on hold as I pray we can still grow old together.
I traveled far and wide, restless to find my missing piece;
my search led me to you and I knew instantly that you and I were meant to be.
My quest for love took me to California, Sydney and Halifax,
but I was not fulfilled until I looked up and found you staring back.
A holy war inside me that led me to Mecca and the Vatican,
unaware the God I was looking for lived inside you, the cure to my suffering.
Circumnavigated the globe searching for a reason to keep my faith alive,
and then you arrived and I melted like two inches of snow on a warm day.
The collision of our hearts was more powerful than an atomic bomb;
two souls that fit together as though part of some bigger plan.
My love flowed from me to you and back again;
my strength increasing as I felt like I was being revived.
Now I call you just to hear your breath, I close my eyes and pretend it's on my neck.
Gone now as I mourn your loss and it becomes increasingly clear,
that I am responsible for our ruin;
I just wish that I had cherished you when you were here.

Indoctrination Irritation.

I am angered by apathy and others' ignorance most often as their incompetence is unfounded
in an age where information is readily available at the click of a button.
Hatred and bigotry are not inherent yet are as common as if they were innate.
Learned behaviours prevail as an eye for an eye ideology has left the whole world blind.
I try to avoid judgment though it's difficult when I encounter so many passersby that are unkind.
A man's character should be assessed based on the contents of his heart
yet still some have been infected by greed for money and power, the reasons why wars start.
Incensed by the lack of empathy that exists in a world controlled by consumerism, as though worth can be measured by the materials we possess.
Annoyed by arrogance, I strive to stay conscious of my confidence and grounded by my acceptance of the impermanence of all.
Bothered by blind faith which burns throughout the human race, as we are forced into a system that has no place for free thinkers robbing them of a face.
The stigma attached to questioning things or daring to look inwards is like a scarlet letter that labels us as insane.
Yet a society that stands for nothing and falls for everything is somehow not deranged.
It begs the question of whether it's perception or deception that categorizes
depression as a chemical imbalance residing in the brain.

Life of Pi.

My efforts are like rescuers that saved me when depression left me bereft and lost at sea.
Floating in a life preserver, with doubts inside of me that were more ferocious than a Bengal tiger. Dangerously close to the edge, and on the brink of extinction, I peeled back the layers of my guards that made my eyes cry like onions.
I watched helplessly as the remnants of my security were swallowed by the relentless waters of the Indian ocean, deprived of graves, their final resting place was in the Marianas Trench.
Somehow I made it out alive and managed to do so even though I was soaking wet and drenched.
I learned to tame the beasts that were my fears that if monetized, would have made me a billionaire. Somehow I stayed afloat, in retrospect, it was my hope and faith that worked behind the scenes to keep me safe and sound.
Ashamed to admit that there were far too many days that I believed it would've been better if I had just drowned.
Denial filled my head, echoing like screams that ricocheted in the Grand Canyon.
It was then that I discovered my spirit contained the indomitable strength and resilience that I had hidden twenty thousand leagues under the sea inside of me.
Like a lost continent found, my soul is the Atlantis that I've come upon.
Castaway from civilization is what it took for me to conclude that my perseverance is still cause for celebration.
Now I roar like Poseidon, I am king again, like Triton.
I narrowly escaped my perilous ruin, slightly scathed but otherwise okay.
The depths of my despair decreased as my lungs filled up again with air.
I have become immune to the trauma, radical acceptance helped me triumph over my salt water sorrows that tried to bury me alive underneath the sands of shallow, superficial drama.

Onomatopoeic Infatuation.

Drip drop as the intravenous tries to nourish me,
tick tock time passes and I wait in anguish for an end to my suffering.
Squish, crunch went my heart crushed under your foot like a cockroach.
Popped my dreams for the future like a balloon as I zip up the sutures, closing my open wounds. Clapping thunder crashed outside my window; it only rains now that you're gone.
We clashed like titans, our hungry egos were the ammunition that ultimately sunk both our battleships.
Clicked my heels together twice, three times, hoping it would help me like ruby red slippers on Dorothy's homesick feet.
In our last days, a cough could even set me off; I now regret that I could be so unkind.
Flushed now as I reflect on all we left behind; all the pieces of us scattered around the world make me groan as I realize we hardly even tried.
My stomach growls like a feral child raised by wolves and other creatures in the wild.
Grumble, as I wish we never crumbled collapsing underneath the weight of every rumble.
Praying for a hiccup to undo our history, hoping we can be restored and revert to loving one another in peace.
I hiss from being deflated, you were the oxygen inside my lungs.
Howling from the pain like an orphaned coyote wanting to be loved again.
All our work and effort was consumed by fires that we started on our own, our love went up in flames, ending in a simple puff of sickening smoke.
My bones rattled inside me as I grew spindly weak, starved for affection like a dog in heat out in the streets.
Ripped up like unwanted evidence, my spirit roared reeling from the loss.
If only my tires screeched and came to a halt instead of the failing brakes which plowed right over us. My sorrow shrieks silently succumbing to insomnia that makes it restless and thus, impossible to sleep.
Smashed, I became intoxicated drowning my anxiety as inebriation murdered my sobriety and left it splattered on the floor.
Splashing holy water on my face desperately longing to be a victim of this demonic heartbreak no more.
Swallowed me and spit me out as sirens wailed outside my window from signs of life and death that whizzed right by.
My frustration finally trickled out when it became clear that I would be safe again real soon, saved from the bullet of our drive-by romance that zoomed past my head, destined for the moon.

Basic Instinct.

You are an amateur claiming to be on my level,
yet your life reads like a comedy, your looks are equally disheveled.
Trying to ascend, your feeble attempts to social climb are irrelevant,
laughable and unphotographable just like a funny Valentine.
I am expertly skilled at what I do, undefeated even at my worst as you, despite all of your efforts,
are like a balloon filled with more than enough hot air to make you burst.
Unraveling, your seams are slowly but surely coming undone in front of everyone,
 it's clear for even the blind to see that you're not fooling anyone.
Equipped with only basic qualities, you're barely a beginner and yet you still try to compete with the likes of me.
I will always win, victory courses through my veins.
I am comprised of triumph, defeating you will come as easily as any of the trophies I have fairly won. I hold the deed, the title to your properties; the landlord of all that you could even imagine or aspire to be.
Deluded, as you confuse your self-awareness for confidence when even a quick glance from me could send you reeling into an infernal abyss.
I tear down your walls, bring your castles crashing to the ground;
I saw through your facade like it was made of the cheapest quality of fabric.
Should never have doubted me; I could have shown you the ropes and maybe you would also be fantastic.
Hilarity crept in through your front door and now hides within the shadows and corners of your home. Your people pleasing is pitiful, your only motivation was to be validated by strangers;
how can you be so naive that you've been burned by the fire of your artificiality so many times and somehow still fail to detect the danger?
Fickle friends, as fair-weather as can be, fill your company,
and then you somehow wonder how no one is around when you're in need.
I have risen above and you're still in shock on the cold, hard ground;
you sink further into obscurity's deceit, lost and damaged,
I sadly doubt that you will ever be found.

Worthy.

A dream is a wish your heart makes and I know mine has been granted
as I have been given a fresh lease on life; I feel like I am enchanted.
I will no longer give into grief or let depression seep into me.
I have promised myself to stay committed to the sobriety which will set me free.
The magnificent beast inside me has been defeated, my rage is now extinct.
I am the master of the game, my demons exorcised in a blink.
All it took was time to truly let my wounds heal,
as the introspection allowed for me to remember how to feel.
I was as angry as a warrior that wanted to avenge his ancestors' honour,
like a soldier in the trenches armed and ready for battle.
I forced everyone around me to walk on eggshells as
the slightest misstep would wake this dragon from its slumber;
they were David, I was Goliath when I incited terror with my voice that echoed like thunder. Voracious and vile, I would not stop until I was the victor
though I only saw the damage I caused when all was quiet as a whisper.
The silence became deafening as it wanted to teach me to take accountability,
which has now become my greatest lesson.
A boy who cries wolf too many times is sure to be abandoned,
consistency can be the only way he will be redeemed.
I will climb the highest mountain, and swim across the most dangerous seas,
tread through perilous deserts in the name of self-mastery.
I do not want different faces, or to fill my loved ones hearts with fear,
I cannot keep rewinding, or backpedaling to undo their tears.
Self-control will only come when I learn to bite my tongue,
I am evolving now that I have identified the root cause of my actions.
Growing again from the inside out, as I have discovered my fear of being deserted.
I know that I can get through this, I owe it to my future because I am worth it.

Soliloquy.

In an instant, all was calm again as you came along and chased the pain.
We connected as naturally as birds and bees, our love coursing through my veins
revived my depraved heart.
Happiness comes from within but you made me see that life is not the same without it.
You cured the cardiac arrest that made me seize and closed off to letting anybody in.
Like the wind, you soothed my soul when it burned with restlessness.
For a short period in time, I recognized the power of real love;
stabilized my vital signs, like insulin, you made everything right again.
Now that you've gone away, I am forced to pick up the pieces of me that I never wanted to address,
all the parts of me that I learned to suppress by ignoring my loneliness.
You were the deejay that removed the blues from my playlist,
the master that made me a slave to love whose existence I had tried so hard to deny.
I naively protected myself in vain as though I had lost the very ability which had controlled me all of my life.
You were the maestro that conducted my most beautiful symphony to date, the sorcerer that cast the most beguiling spell on me.
Ignorant to the possibility that I could ever hurt again,
until you tore your love away from me, ripping all of the oxytocin from my brain.
Leaving me to shake from the withdrawal of your kiss; your caresses had become my favourite drugs. You were the tamer that domesticated my wild heart, the answer to the prayers I had been uttering since the day I learned how to talk.
My body denied of your touch brings tears to even the most hardened eyes;
 I was not ready to wake up from our dream, unprepared to stop singing the words to the lullaby that we co-wrote.
You were the sculptor that engraved his name onto my soul, the only consolation that could ever make me whole again.
Maybe we forgot how to appreciate one another in the dark,
though I saw light when you only saw an end to our farce.
Claimed that I was empty yet you failed to see the emptiness that you had filled.
Now that you're gone, the hollowness within becomes wider with each day.
You were my knight, the light that illuminated the immense darkness that I had adjusted to.
Once again, I have to learn to see through all the fog that had cleared when you arrived with the sun.
I never knew a love like ours that was always patient and kind;
never judgmental but in the end, you could not continue pretending to be blind.
Maybe one day we can sail again among the stars, you were my moon,
my sun but now my world has died, drowned in an ocean of night.
I just wanted an eternity with you; I wish we could turn back time,
rewind and somehow make it all right again,
I wish with all my heart and might that you weren't gone.

Haunt Me.

An unmanned piano plays our song aggressively as though possessed.
I exhale and see my breath, it is colder than the Arctic in your absence.
The wind howls outside my window and I can swear it has your voice, it's calling me.
Like footsteps in an abandoned house, I am still haunted by you and me.
I have returned to hiding not wanting my presence to be known,
a phantom in this world desperate to be reunited with you, my soul.
Our tragedy replays in my head like a chilling horror movie scene,
my pain made me a monster although that is no excuse for the torment or abuse I put you through. Haunted by you now, our memories like graves of loved ones that died prematurely;
they line the cemetery that is my brain in rows that will never be complete.
No longer inhabited by human life that has ceased, our world succumbed to loneliness and is covered in disease.
Devoid of life, it starts to fall apart and decay;
all because you left me, why did you have to go away?
You haunt me in my dreams, my only nightmare is my reality.
Without you, silence has conquered me. I do not want to speak
for fear my words will deceive me by revealing my grief.
Thunderstorms and bones the only remnants of our love, eerie to accept that this is all that we have left.
You have haunted me, I cannot even sleep now that I am unwanted,
my demons have returned to devour me.
Knocks on my door though no one is there,
my heartbeat no longer races, as my lungs don't care for air.
Not even familiar faces could ease the misery that only responds to your company.
I am the sole occupant of this asylum in my head,
shock therapy could not even eliminate all this dread.
Haunt me, now that you have gone away, possess my every waking thought,
if it's the only way you can remain.
I needed you but I know I am to blame.
Haunted by you now, I will not let you hurt me by leaving.
I live in a world where you and I still coexist; I refuse to acknowledge that anything is amiss.
Craving your fingers, I could be disarmed by your kiss.
You will continue to haunt me as I sink further into this ill-conceived abyss.

Dementia.

Comedy is a comforting mask that helps me cope when I am encompassed by darkness that infects my world and paints it black.
I am imprisoned by my own thoughts, anxiety reveals its ugliness cheapening any sense of accomplishment that I might have.
I grip reality, desperately, so I am not pulled into the burning inferno underground that threatens to devour me whole; it is my personal Hell.
I do my best to embody my interpretation of normal, attempt to see things in a positive light despite my knowledge that my glass is broken, not half full.
My smile is as carefully constructed as a house of cards, one wrong move and all of me comes crashing down to the ground.
Tears well in the corner of my eyes as I question why but know that God works in mysterious ways. When will my sadness be replaced by my life that permanently remains on hold.
I wish I could hit rewind and return to the point where roads diverged;
I would choose wisely this time instead of chasing petulant dreams that have led me astray.
A wasted life, unfulfilled resulted in my idle mind.
Fragile paper heart of mine that rips apart time after time, my hard exterior guards shatter so often that they are scarred.
Tired of being a perpetual work in progress, I really need change like the Earth needs rain.
Resigned but resolute I will try to be resilient although it's become an arms race, imperative that I finally prove that I am brilliant.

Deadly.

The darkest parts of me screamed bloody murder, ignoring the truth that I deserved to be left high and dry. I accused God of abandonment, cursing my beloved as though I was devoid of fault or sin. My wrath wreaked havoc as it sought to exact revenge for events that only ever occurred inside my head. My vengeance more vain than Narcissus whose own reflection was responsible for his watery demise. A glutton for self indulgence, I feasted on your sanity until you were consumed then picked at your bones as if they were dessert. Envious of your ability to love, I would never admit that I aspired to taint it with my deep seated jealousy that was conceived long before you arrived. Like a sloth, lethargy atrophied every muscle in the body of us then assumed we'd survive instead of making any effort. Comatose, I chose to cope by sedating even the most faint glimmer of hope. Ravenous my eyes bewildered by lust as I grew infatuated with the mere idea of gaining then draining your trust. Lasciviously slobbering as if we were destined to be like the mark of the beast or contagion and disease. Like a cancerous growth, I maligned you from the inside out, until your sanity turned into psychosis. My greed to be the first man to destroy you became the fuel that sponsored my endeavour, I disparaged your landscape like inclement weather. My moods as inconsistent as seismic activity during an earthquake, they fluctuated as often as we say our own names in a single day. Forgive me father for I have sinned, our love became the eighth cardinal vice, the final nail in the coffin that robbed us of life. You walked through the valley of the shadow of death the moment you let go and let me steal your last breath.