I want my coffee bland please. Thank you.
They glue their eyes on me
Is it my mustache? Is it my hunch?
Or is it my skin I need to moisturize,
so that your eyes wont stick on me
I believe in the power of hidden faith
Above where I look up and pray
I believe in the soul with my own blind vision
Through sight the naked eye could not bear to see
I believe in dreams at night that lullaby’s thy
Cradle of inspiration and power-source in try
I believe in what I feel and from not what I see
The heart conceives in emotions and in depth
while the eyes betray above in an innocent ashtray
I believe in sunny side and the smile it brings each day
I believe in the whisper of the winds as it blows each whisper
I believe in the kiss of the rain as it sweeps it way down to my cheeks
The warmth of trees I hug, the taste of snowflakes, the pavement that takes me to where
the flame that lights up a candle’s wick, I believe.
I believe in the beauty the price I payed for
I believe in the wisdom I earned from my want of wit
In the knowledge I sow from the land redeemed all beautiful
I believe in life whatever thingamajigger means possible
And even in darkness and in death I still believe
And I believe in me
In all my liver, kidneys and spleen
In what I believe- my words, my thoughts, and all things i failed to do
In my dear relations who see my potential and talent
In my nights I tear to sleep, my days the sun refuses to shine
And to all whoever that do not believe,
I dont know
Roll on the floor
I dont care anymore
What would your 10-year-old self say if they saw you now?
[“ça, cette chose, monstre, elle-il”
"Merci d’être tout ce que je voulais devenir"
"Vous êtes si courageux"
Que dirait votre moi de 10 ans s’il vous voyait maintenant ?]
I’ve forced myself to be outside
Away from my bed where I go for comfort
To where I am friends with the monsters
And to where I talk to myself and applauded.
To this wilderness I am far from being secure,
To this place predictions never had chance,
To this sheath of silk nobody knows inhabited
To this where they call it “public”.
I fear for judgment despite my will
With my hands sweaty as Neptune,
face smudge with stickiness and oil,
my hair blooming by strand in disturbance,
eyes burning through this lens never used to,
my breath condemned to shall never be using oxygen.
Everyone stares at me in hazardous ways.
What am I talking about?!
I think I’m drowning.
Is that a bird or a plane?
No, its just you being insecure.
"Your thoughts is what makes you."