Wake up it’s a beautiful morning,
like the infinity of a closed chain;
lists keep growing, brain-freeze again.
As long as there’s tomorrow, not today.

Succinct intentions imprinted by a hoot;
how can a sub-conscious refuge,
de-commission the projected truth?
A 24-hour religion, is that all it is?

So which way is it to be tomtom?
Intrepidation never failing,
or honour ‘the’ grand unveiling?
Side-step: back to back-warming Oracle.

Pride appoints a distilling of hidden stature;
forget the dentistry of a mounted gift,
sensitivity not deserving an emotional spendthrift.
No mentions of a game, but you have to play.

Rationalising the intensity of late;
surely that’s an impossibility of squirming feet?
Solution follows a tryst of the elite,
subjects must therefore be; for it to make sense.

Periodic patterns of revolving chrome-vanadium,
lends itself nicely to discontentment
and occasionally promotes relinquishment;
summer sun; does it matter?

Survival make-up – check.
Abrupt journey’s end; in your face.
An odyssey not started yet, offers no grace.
Relax, the God’s haven’t even begun their terror.

The bottom of a barely coping universe it might just be;
Curious are the similarities to sinking sand.
Submerge as you extend your hand?
Or do I just simply do nothing, and nothing happens?

Rat-out the analytical introspection monster;
For when you can see your own reflection in a black-hole;
A bonus penalty shot at life’s ultimate goal;
Then a neutered Neutron star is a good thing to be.

Sometimes you meet people
You recognise your soul’s counterpart in them
Somehow you’re just in sync
Same way of thinking, rationalising, dreaming
You can’t explain it
Something so familiar in them
Sometimes you meet them at the wrong time
The connection you both recognise is forbidden
Even though you crave them in the most innocent form
Where lust and love isn’t involved
Friendship in ways that only they will understand
Where the walls you have built doesn’t exist
Sometimes you just want to get to know them better
Yet this too is a sin
This simple request has too many complications attached

start the day when the party’s over
that’s when it really begins
unsure of who i will be today
or who i have been

can’t keep up, dozens of types
one word is all it takes
****, poke, provoke me
go on i dare you

so many dark things i could delve into
physical pain i could explore
but the thing that hurts the most
is the invisible knife coming back for more

the knife is made of trauma and pain
penetrates my skin
greets my blood
creating scars only i can see

i’ll hide my words
i’ll hide my sorrow
plaster on a smile
until tomorrow

this is the one thing I cannot get wrong
you can’t criticise this
you can’t be disappointed
this will not be analysed
to me, my writing is perfect

to you,
well…
I didn’t ask.

*****

I’m a flirt.
Repeated offence.
Due to my own desperate insecurity I flirt with boys I don’t fancy.
I love to be loved.
I love the attention of it.
I need to constantly be told that I’m attractive. I want to be asked out in a flush of embarrassed pride. I need my ego stroked.
I get my necessary daily exercise off of this chase.
I want only the idea of you.
When I inevitably give a confused answer to your emotions either our friendship is already flushed or I’m perched panting on the toilet still.
****, get a plunger I want back what we had before. Oops. Lactic acid flows.
Now washing my hands I don’t know if I consider the flirtees seedlings of feeling.
Do I just want them drooling and gasping for air?
I content myself selfishly assuming they are happy getting to fancy me.
But what about when I throw them into competition with their brother?
Have a won the race?
Is it a straight stairway to heaven?
What then rationalising wannabe Mother Theresa?
Till now I hadn’t quite recorded how each lap brings a tiresome blow to my emotional intelligence.
Obsessed with the thrill of the chase
I put myself in a cat-mouse roller coaster trap that ultimately reflects badly on me and my exhausted lungs.

Of all the strange things i could be, i chose to be normal
Normal is merely a word, together some came and produced,
Normal is nothing but a state of mind, when there is nothing left to reproduce.

Of all the diverse things i could be, i chose to be sane.
Sane is that phase of life, i believe we when numbness takes over,
Rationalising a decision, proving a point,
Its always to sound a bit clever.

Of all those brilliant things i could be, i chose to be a liar.
Liars are cowards and they ***** your mind,
For truth is the spear of a brave soul,
There is always a peculiarly kind.

Of all silent feelings i thought i could feel, i chose to feel upset.
Sadness is the trail of a suppressed opinion,
Its an irrational feeling, driving your madness into oblivion.

But of all the things i thought i could say, i chose to say zilch.
Silence is deadly when used as a shield.
Silence is terrible when projected as a glitch in time.
If there ever was a time to say anything, it was then,
Silence of all things, was my only crime.

Events in a sequence
Not very pleasant
Taking the decision
A time of inconvenience
Coming to the conclusion
Not a good time
Know very little
Arranging and Analysing
Assuming it is trouble
Rationalising how to handle
Unknown on the fray
Beyond our ability
To understand the game
What is bad we thought
Need not be bad
Can turn out either way
Will only know as day progresses into another day
Finding logical reason
In what has happened
Leads to more frustration
There is a gap
A logical nightmare
Lying there somewhere
If not things will be
As it were
To put you in this loop
Nature was ready with its tools
Taking it as a given
From that moment
Is the easiest solution
To handle the so called problem

We can't let go
in fear
of losing ourselves

we stubbornly
hold on
even though
it has no worth-

ah, we become slaves
to our pride
and ego-
the clinging
the self-worshipping
the rationalising
the self-defining
all that but ends
in the dehumanising
of our very being

we can't let go
even in the last hours
of our dying