She lies awake,
Just thinking of him.
As her heart aches,
As she imagines his grin.

She looks forward to seeing that bright smile,
Like it's been forever in a day.
She likes that handsome style,
That he slays in every way.
-Lenaaa

we may not be the most obvious expressionists,
for we keep our special pen and papers,
folders,
diaries hidden from the world,
and once we enter our secret world,
that's when we fully open up to our paper,
and the  pen becomes a reflection of our hearts,
the thoughts impregnating our minds,
falls like waterfalls onto our paper,
our pen becomes a existing object in our lives,
we create him as our best friend,
lover,
as he writes down all our desires,
secrets,
feelings we hide in our hearts, to afraid to tell anyone what goes on in our head.

Windows to the the world through which I see
Images of shortfalls and views of perpetual inadequacies.
Shut my lids ever hoping for a change in scenery...
But only pictures of emotional chaos, mistakes and uncertainties.

Visions I can't ignore and they can't be severed;
Like a splinter that's embedded but can't be retrieved.
Reluctant at first I wish to have them captured...
Capturing all the disorder, but have the beauty all sieved.

Beauty and light engulfed by this visual turmoil
From windows to canvas, I paint but with a sombre brush.
Vicious strokes represent the feelings that roil;
Devoid of pardon; sing of pressures that crush.

This brush that I use; I've taught it all too well.
It could paint even when running on the subconscious.
It never does relent, nor never will it ever quell,
It'll keep on painting the dark side of the senses.

My canvas just lays receiving the brunt of the strokes.
It lays there quiet; accepts it all without struggle.
Like fuel to a bonfire, it provides and also it stokes;
It lays there ready to accommodate the dust and rubble.

Again the brush finishes with its last deft touches.
Producing the same painting it's painted over and over...
They will never depict meadows with the farthest of reaches
But a portrait of me; staring mournfully into forever...

I feel my spirit carry my body as if I am neither one
walking through the woods, touching leaves as they brush me
drops of water from the morning dew drip from leaf tips and branches
birds are chirping along with other sounds of wildlife that cannot be distinctly seen
as I wander deeper through the woods I suddenly become surrounded in mist
darkness and light dance within yet out of reach
I wonder if it will come to me
then I hear indescribably beautiful sounds
as the light gets brighter through the forest  
darkness defines itself even more as images taking form in close distance
the mist becomes thick like fog and all becomes quiet all too quickly
I keep walking and forgetting my age, the reason I am here tied to it
there before me I see a throne of trees
roots that seem to have been feeding from the ground for a long time
big as ever and yet they move as if they were living creatures
a pitch dark figure with no felt presence with a very much piercing gaze
stares into my eyes with his made of starry light
he told me I will never die here, but to my own kind
I am already gone
I will forever wander the woods
until I prove I can become a part of nature
and suffer mankind

to lay my soul to rest I came
immortal here I remain

These lines on my neck
Scars scarred of regrets
Reminding me everyday how i’m blessed
If the rope didn't break by chance
If those 'angels' hadn't come in time
I’ll be in a place where heaven & hell doesn't coexist

I live my life differently now
Every day breathing in spores of hope
Everyday with families & friends pulling me back-
from my melancholy past
Every time i intend to plummet

These strangers that i now called friends(angels)
Saved me from myself
When they saw someone from their pane
With a hope pulling end
They cut through every enmity
Cutting that rope of contempt

As I dropped
Head first kissing the floor
I knew then & there
Why my life is so eminent
Why let love end my existence
Why there are still people who cared
Why leave when there's-
so much more to live for

All these answers gushing in
Making me realize
Just like a rope
You can either use it to end your life
Or you can climb your way to the top

Choose before you lose to the noose.


Erennwrites

Can you feel that?
Among the thousands of hearts forcing themselves against you,
Can you feel the force of my love?

I cannot give you the wealth of a thousand millionaires,
I cannot love you with the drive of a thousand athletes,
I cannot hold you with the strength of a thousand worlds,
For all I have is a heart.
A heart that yearns to belong to yours.

The force of my love is a single drop,
Amidst a pulsing torrent of countless others.
It does not stand out, but it can stand its ground
Amidst a raging current of empty promises.

Can you feel that?
That is the force of my love.
A ripple amongst the stagnant water,
But perhaps not enough to draw you in.

This is the last time I’ll see you,
the last chance to tell
just what it is about you,
that’s captured me so well.

I came so close to saying,
I came so close, you know.
How I wish you were staying,
but perhaps it’s best you go.

Maybe I’ll move on now,
now that you are gone.
I’d say I’ll forget somehow,
but we both know I’d be wrong.

They say first love never dies,
how am I to know?
Love- a word that never applies,
emotions that never show.

I said I don’t believe in love,
it’s simply not for me.
But then push came to shove,
and suddenly I could see.

You’re the perfect one for me,
but, alas, I’ve let you go.
To point out the things that we could be
is the lowest of the low.

Love is still shrouded in doubt,
at least for me, for now.
But so close to learning what it’s about,
you slipped away somehow.

This is goodbye, I’m moving on,
I hope you’ll understand.
I’d like to think that with you gone,
I’ll return from this dreamland.

This is goodbye, this is farewell,
it’s been fun indeed.
I hope you’ll return with stories to tell,
Something tells me you’ll succeed.