"You lack a vision for your life,"
"You are drowning in your own ambitions,"
"Do you genuinely believe you will succeed?"
"I cannot see you going that far in this journey,"

"Is this truly your purpose?"

Careful of your words, for I may cast you
As an antagonist in one of my countless stories,
Being a narrative, the WHOLE world shall see –
For I am a Writer!

The Mind Olympics – thoughts going round
and round my once-stable mental state –
Where I transitioned from a season of declaring,
“I can cope with anything,” to now saying,
"I need anything to help me cope."

I am like a pristine canvas, pure and white;
yet, the moment a single black spot appears,
the harmony is shattered.

As the vibrant colours in my eyes fade away,
I find myself painted with the stain of hollow
anguish – empty victories fill my grasp, yet they
only amplify the weight of my own suffering.

Mental health is no laughing matter;
yet, in a cruel twist of irony, I find myself chuckling
at the absurdity of believing I am the sole bearer
of such heavy thoughts. All I yearn for, is someone
to truly listen to the whispers of my heart.

Can we please talk?

SKINS made of wires;
as I ponder the essence of existence
amidst a symphony of aired out thoughts –
a diet of wind chimes echoing in my mind.

Ideas resonate within me,
drifting throughout the atmosphere;
sunbathing selfies, even when fragments
of my heart are encased in frost.
Tears, fierce as hurricane winds;
my aspirations gathering the courage
to ascend like a bird test driving its
newfound wings.

These wire-like skins signify my quest
to intertwine with the current of an
electrifying love – the Almighty above
knows that we all begin to fall in love
when we feel that initial spark.

That love spark!

Tell me what is it like to close my eyes
against the brilliance of your smile,
Yet I still feel it’s warmth on my skin?
Like a breath held in full anticipation,
I can’t wait to take you in, before letting
you out; just to find my natural peace.

Those intense stares, sending shivers
down my spine, walking round the corners
of uncertainty within me – you remind me
Of a picture of glass stairs, that leads straight
to your heart; yet each step must be taken with
the utmost caution– you are delicately beautiful.

Each dawn, I find myself quietly haunted
by the memory of your tender caress,
The remnants of yesterday’s air infused
with your essence, drifting into the promise
Of tomorrow – I wonder at which moment you
will unveil your love for me, as one might
delicately pluck the petals of a flower.

“She loves me, she loves me not…”
I am still unravelling that enigma.

But if I cannot place my faith in love,
how can I trust in myself?

But you can’t spell the word Love
without experiencing an L, pursing it.

As we adorn our hearts with L plates;
forever students in the school of love.

Every first kiss is like a cup of yeast;
raising our hopes for what is to come.

Yet, to yearn for more while offering
less in a relationship, is merely a recipe
for disappointment – a yeast infection.

There’s an imbalance when it comes to
your love life…

Some days my bones feel fractured,
Even where all the bells resonate;
The ravenous bite that indulged
Too deeply – polished by its outlines.

Having faced the forces of nature;
Maybe the element of surprise,
Is not being so surprised at all,
At the relentless cycle of challenges
That perpetually emerge.

Ultimately, we are all merely
Trying to survive.

Even on this long road of thoughts; some days I don’t know my way
with words – as to describe your face; it just drives me so insane.
“You’re so pretty,” feels a bit too plain; so it always bears down on
me, this pressure. A rock in a hard place, and I’m also being pressed
with stones, biting on my words, that I bruised my lip. Slowly sinking
deeper, and letting blood flow – being so afraid of your reflection of
me, staring back from your eyes, as my tears dance along a running
stream. How you’ve become this silhouette of a perfect dream.

But I'm not as deep as I seem to be; just like swimming in a pool, I
first need to find my feet. And I’m only a pebble against your skin;
trying to skip across our conversations, and finding a reason to kiss.
But instead, I'm laughing in the bathroom mirror, letting the echoes
of that room wash me clean. And it would seem in vain to say I
fell in love with you – even as I wear your smile under my skin.

So I quietly let those very six words find their rest, and go back to
my bed, and sleep – cause who the hell really feels the depth of
those words, over a late-night text?

Never too wise to stay up late, with the opposite friend.