Too tight
Your arms brazen
circling me
Leading me to your core

I am not the apple to adore nor can I allow the fluttering in my stomach to catastrophize my mind

Admiration has it's bouts
But those who admire grow bored
And the admired become ill and hollowed out with bitterness and shallow sound--
tink tink tinking of glasses filled with ice and the numbing of high proofed haste

Steady now!
The notion is fiercely romanticized  
Yet hardly fulfilled
Showing the minds eye just can't be sought out
For I will surely begin to disappear
And you will surely march towards the counterpart of the compass with the parts of me I so tenderly keep tucked abroad

Be careful!
Now with the tables turned
You are beginning to show your bitter cheeky side

(C) Tiffanie Doro

a poet is a silent screamer
silent feeler, silent doer
thinking, tinking, toying brains
reveals life through an expulsion
of ink on paper
with a mind whose thoughts
trickle down like racing raindrops on a car window
a painter of words on a heart-canvas
dreamer of the unreachable
unrequitable
unforgotten.

We all lonely, blood
Tis true
Witcha friends and close love family
Each adem a solitaire island
Reaching outta sanity
As they sink into the blue.

------------
We all lonely
Tis true
From Everton Grey ta Tom Driscoll
All the way thru
Then the vision it project
Only red, green or quicksand blue.
We struggle-
We survive-/
But do we want to ?

-----------------

We all lonely
Dat one we can all pass da clue
Touch is tempory
Togetherness is empty
And millions od family guy
Pretend, as each lickle day pass by
'Cause wit loneliness you find
That da preacher guy tis just as blind
As the offering of a psychotic mind.

-----------------

We all lonely, De'Anna
Eden da guy wit letter arta tis name
My boy heart it cry 'me soul tis lame'
He study for good, good 20 year education
But him just makin' a reservation
My boy just another at de station
Where trains come and trains go
When the night in his world cloud oder
Tis long, Tis painful, Tis slow.
My boy hold his qualifications hi
But thru the blindness of it all
He fail to spot an obvious lickle lie
Tis not tis mind that hurt
And him guise all the brethren
Ended trampled down
Under 6 foot dirt.

-----------------------

Tis psychology guy
We all stuck inna freeze frame
Where we don't recognise eachother
It no register who talk.
So some woman invents a personality
On the internet - in da gallery
She actin' real cool
Tinking she makin' progress
'I'm happy' she say
'I've friends'
Sooner or later her converse ends
And da computer say wipe clean
And the imaginary places her mind has been
Get drowned by da lickle message she hadn't seen
An she overcooks a dinner for the alcoholic business guy
Who has shared with her this lifelong lie
20 years gone by.

We all lonely, Wendy
We find someone new
But we forget dey lonely too
And both skies seem to rain
Eden tho da sky tis blue
I'm lonely now
Wit you.

-------------------

And God who gave us life
And God who gave us all
Probably gave us loneliness
Cause he didn't want to be alone.

breezy
and again
bleary

wind hair face cold
semi-
conscious

some kind
of musical

playing tinking

as the ticking
makes no
blare

blah

lids
half
glimpsing

glitter
recent performer's static chaos

passing past
"the Garden Village"

oh
the night's
lazy
and
black

--

just got back
(like you...?)

The people on my age is so different, than me. Or at least I feel like that´s the case.
While they talk on and on about boys, parties, make-up and all that teenage-stuff. Im over here like tinking about "what is the meaning of this life?", "when I die, will I get to live again?",  "How do emotiens work?",  "why do people act like they do?" and questions like these.
Im beginning to think Im an alien. Stranded on the weird planet called "Earth".

My "people" are not supposed to think about these certain stuff. They should worry about how the mirror looks at them or how the flame in their eyes catches a boy at a party.

So why Im I like this?
Like an alien?
Overthinking about every detail....

The sound of a
Still-cast moon
Hovering
Silent
In the dwell-

The gentleness
Of piano keys
Rubbing the pads
Of your finger tips
In an empty,
Lonely room

The wind chime
In your voice
Tinking with laughter
And a smile
Conjuring pride
Telling tales
Of your daughter

The crinkle in your
Hands
Holding,
Protecting
My ignorant
Little heart
As time
Ticked on
And on
Like the beat
Of a steady drum.

How a
Broken heart
Is not a saying
But the sensation
Of falling
Like a splitting
Desperation and
Despair in
Your chest.
When a burning light
Dissipates into
Ash
And smoke.
Suffocating.

Being left alone
By loneliness itself
And missing what
It feels like
To feel whole.

To be in a world
Without you
Is something
I know well
But is what
I wish
I've never known.