Frustration, misery, Swelling deep inside of me. Suffering, growing large in my heart. It’s bursting at the seams. It grows ever so heavy. Too heavy for my shoulders to bear. It explodes with sorrow, grief, and shatters into pieces. Pieces so small, no naked eye can see. No. No eye can see the pain within me. For the lair of fake smiles and laughs is too thick to sweep away. This, is what I call, Pain.
Like a double edged knife That cuts deep and rife Like a cold winter breeze That makes everything freeze Like the sting of a bee Excruciating it would be Like a hot summer heat Unbearable it could be Like an
Behind your face was cleaver releasing past poem. The sensual milk flows from the palm into your lake. Grieving for the torn wings of pink light. Cruising on thighs with eyes closed death utters a shriek. The eternal flame closes
Its a different kind of heartache Where tears dont flow, Its a different kind of pain Which people dont choose to show, Its the thing which people dont understand Untill they stand at our place. They keep judging us Without
When logic and intuition stood on edge of time, sugar was dancing on the salt lake. I would not see the torn book between retreat and assault. I was reining in the new moon. In a night raid, five peacocks