we are
living
breathing
poetry
in
motion

We are the muses that haunt others
Late in their silent nights
That are comprised of a
Pencil or pen
Paper
And lingering mind

We are the strangers
That elicited a thought within another
That manifested into a poem

We are the vessels
Of poems written
And poems to come

we are
living
breathing
poetry
in
motion

My tears are cold tonight just like the rain
I've lost hope just like the clouds lose their temper.
And as the water from the sky pours itself off my house through the drain.
I **** my only helper.

My tears are cold tonight like the sea under the moon
My tears were brewed by my memories to be used for what will come soon.

My tears are cold tonight unlike the usual when they're always warm and calming.
My tears are cold tonight so maybe I'll be frozen when I need to wake up in the morning.

My tears are cold tonight under my roof.
My tears are cold tonight and I have no proof.
My tears are cold and I keep on fighting,
Desperately warming myself up as I watch the lighting.

And my tears are cold tonight
But I no longer put up a fight

Spare me of the self-hatred tonight
Spare me of the pain until sunlight.
Spare me of the sad dreams
I deserve at least one please.
Spare me of the desires and wishes
No-one ever knows what their future is.
Spare me of the cruelty and sour taste
I am tired of every spike of pain my hand creates.
Spare me of this disaster
Spare me yet I have no master.
Who the **** in this world will spare me of the truth?
I keep on bitting from life's poisonous fruit.
Who'd spare me of the true face of earth?
Who'll love the unlovable?
We're afraid of the truth
Yet we're unpredictable.
Who'll spare us all from the war?
If we're all our own murderers at the core?
Spare me I'm already dying
Why should we find the truth if we're all lying?

Drowning in ignorance.
I've given up on myself.
I try to breathe out of bubbles of assurance.
But I die with every breath.
I've decided I want to be a spectator to my own pain
The outsider grieving over a theatrical game.
If I was mature enough maybe I'd laugh
However I'm just an orphaned stranger.
A child taking care of its mother.
And hahahaha isn't it funny we've heard the same story over and over again
Nothing new, everyone's sad right?
But nobody's sad over the same pain
We're self-sufficient only at night.
Have I reached that stereotypical age when all you want to do is sleep?
Oh and how society loves to call this self-discovery.
So I just chose Drowning.
Or dying.
To fulfill the purpose of our perfectly functional society.