I Died with You

If I cried a river that stretched to the very depths of hell,
Would it help to resurrect you from the dead;
Would it help to raise my head?
Although I would only be able to raise my head if I knew that the first face I would see would be yours.
But it won’t,
So I won’t raise my head,
Rather let me wish myself dead as well, so I may lay right beside you in the grave.
Sometimes, in my dreams, I hallucinate that you are awake and that you didn’t forsake me.
But you did,
So I’ll have to rid my thoughts of what could’ve been
If you could’ve seen another sunrise,
Another sunset,
Another day spent admiring the beauty that we saw inside each other;
The beauty that only me could see.
We were told that we could not write just because the rest of the world couldn’t read.
Within one another we planted a seed that could do nothing but bear fruit;
The same fruit that would our souls feed.
Now suddenly I realize that you aren’t coming back.
Suddenly I realize that the very substance that I lack is the same essence of spirit that resided in you.
And thus the meaning in me was laid to rest in your embrace.
Your tears ran down my cheek and dried on my lips.
Remembering you tears my soul because you died in a kiss.
Why don’t you hear my prayers?
I believe in nothing, since everything I loved in you has been reduced to dust and ashes.
My sadness clashes with my blessed suicidal self-sacrifices.
I do not believe in sight since your death has given me the insight that I am blind.
We were kindred spirits.
What we felt was far beyond Para-physics.
Every time we connected we flew far above the mental torment that was our life.
We lived as one person in two,
So every prayer we said had to be spoken twice.
Why is it that this night feels so cold?
My will to question fate is defeated
And thus so is my faith in a destiny that stands true.
I no longer believe in eternity, because my forever died with you.

Breathe and Cry

Why is the wind at twilight
Colder than the breeze of the morning?
Why are there no arms around
When I need someone to hold me?
Why does it seem
That their concerns are all phoney?
Why do they turn their heads
In the moments I am falling,
And give me an icy shoulder
As the wind comes back coldly?
Why am I a natural disaster
Whose fates blamed on chance,
Although circumstance is a reply
To the questions I have asked?
Why is inner beauty never seen as that,
Although outer beauty’s as see through as glass?
Why are my problems of today
Always blamed on the past?
It’s like no one else sees this
As a frivolous task.
Why does this wind come back
When I’m struggling to gasp,
Taking with it this fickle hope
That I’ve kept as my last?
Why is it,
And why can’t I understand,
Why the most important points
Are the hardest ones to grasp?
And why can I only breathe and cry
When the morning breeze has passed?

My Expression

Just did this last night during breaks while I was studying for my test today. I originally designed it as poster concept for the poetry sessions that I host on the campus, hence it says "Expression Sessionz - Do You..."!
This was my first time using photoshop [I'm a Biomedicine not a Graphic Design student =O)], so this was quite a challenge for me to do, which I liked. Another thing that made this hard was that it was started on Microsoft Word...Don't ask me how I made it a JPEG and worked with it on photoshop...It was rough

And so, these are the fruits of my labour.
I Love This!!
I hope you do too

Tell Me

Would you believe me if I told you that this was unintentional?
The sentimental aspects of my sub-mentality merge “my reality” with “our fantasy”.
This is why I choose to take the chance to see you as a manifestation of my emotional sanity.
Clarity of mind no longer has bearing when I’m only hearing your soft whisper in my dreams.
That is why it seems that my eyes cry streams as I sleep.
Instantaneous.
Spontaneous.
Dangerous…
Since all this is still new to us.
Still true to us are the very feelings that eluded us.
The same feelings that cleansed us as life tainted us.
Tell me,
Would you believe that it’s these moods that paint us
And maintain us in this dance that enchants us?
Imaginary is the fantasy that is passing me.
Reality is only evident in the moments when we are happening.
Rapidly elapsing the time between us to intertwine our minds,
Striking me with more flavours than fine wine.
Tell me,
Do you feel what I feel?
Do you know that my heart bleeds steadily for you exclusively?
It seems my emotions, personally, have flooded far past “friendly”.
You enter my world and the rivers run dry immediately.
If so, then please turn my destiny around.
Please turn around and notice me.

Idle Hands

Aborted Thoughts

She finds a sort of temporary comfort in these words she constructs,
But
As she constructs such lines she feels as though she’s been cut.
Wrists slit while clenched fists bleed to death and die.
Aborted.
Aborted like her failed attempts of freedom.
Aborted like her faded dreams forgotten.
She should have aborted the thought of an offspring,
Thus bringing him the gift of nothing.
Aborting nothing.
A child denied of life.
Aborting thoughts of fear
Fighting back these tears
Igniting all that’s here
Thus her mind remaining clear.
As clear as this paper was before I put the pen there.
This pen tears
Holes in her eyes so she may leek tears,
So she may cry for her aborted child.
In the meanwhile she suffers from a syndrome that makes her regret her life.
In this instance it makes her regret her very existence.
The “would-be-mother” speaks in words of insistence
Whose very syllables are separated by vast distance.
While she idly caresses her empty belly,
Her hand forced back by a memory that forced resistance.
“What is the difference,” she asks with interest,
“Between my rage, my shame, my retorted speech and my aborted infant?”

What Previously Was

It's strange how we met
how my heart bled for days
And the hole that was left the moment I went away
still stays
and stains my memories
like black ink foot-prints
on the yellow brick-road of life;
The one of emotion, I wouldn't travel twice,
But I did and I lost;
It seems that I gamble life.
Rattled dice strike the floor
Like the stars that cascade your eyes.
Reiterate the size
of my heart as I reminise on a marveled life.
My heart refused to bleed,
so it started our love
and you were clearly incomplete,
so you gave us up.
Everything we had now reduced to dust,
Thus the scent that lingers like a familiar touch
reminds the two of us of what previously was.