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What you call love, I call it home.  But it's not the one you can think of — It's a cathedral that I thought we built.  But no.  My robots tell me it's made up of old bricks, the ones I keep on using again and again.  The quality must be great though, these bricks unbreakable.  Unshakable.  If it's my bricks, then it must be my cathedral.  You're not a part of it, then why do I envision you there? Standing, expressionless, just existing like a pearl — except in my dreams.  Yo

The quiet is violent and noisy.  My mind is trying to catch up with the speed of light, while my body feels weak and frail.  Immobile. I feel nothing yet everything at once — how can it be true? My life, a puzzle I'm trying to solve.  Rationalizing my feelings and behaviors, maybe that's where I lost the plot.  The burden of being self aware,  and the guilt of doing it anyway — again and again.  While I repeat the same mistakes.  Carve the same path.  And I haven't found wate

I look up to the sky, I look down to the cotton ground.  Surface beneath feels like this feeling — high like a bird or high like a psychonaut?  What does it matter, so long I keep flying.  Even if I fall,  I know I'd land on the mist.  It's gonna last this time; It's not like the other times — I lie myself. Elated to see it unfold;  the adventure.  The effect seems to wash off,  slowly, but I'm still floating.  Until there was nothing below me.  Then the high washes off,  and

A sunny day, birds singing. It was like they were singing for me, for us. As if they knew two souls were meeting.  Anticipation, planning, efforts.  The day finally arrives.  The nerves are there, they make me feel alive.  The day already feels surreal. I still remember her waiting for me It's all dreamy, seeing her from afar. My heart skips a beat. I wonder if hers did too.  Her face expressionless, yet everything was there — a whole universe, what's inside her.  I still rem

Metal, so pure, untouched. Links — shallow and weak. Torn off, too easy. Ordinary, with depth.  Surrounded by surfaces. Resentment, madness, rage — for refusing to rot. Kindness, rationality, quiet — for being myself. I scream, you echo. Finding answers in questions. I'm no saint. You're no villain. I'm the layers you skim through. I drown, you float. Sweet with an aftertaste. Gentle — just never enough. Always almost. Never picked first. How long can pain feel like home? The

I have this fire, exhale desire to shed my own skin, to leave the copper behind.  I'm keeping the flames alive. It'll take me to my destination or consume me alive. The promises I made, the words I said. I'm choking on them — they're like a noose around my neck . And then the nights arrive, the only sound I can hear is my own heartbeat.  The electric pulse, the ticking clock, transmitting signals. Why is silence so deafening? It's louder than the loudest noise I've heard. My

Robots and machines giving me company, invisible yet yearning to be seen.  Just existing in silicone, the metal lines interconnected, yet disconnected. There's more to me than what the silicone shows.  The robotic lines appear stoic and cold, yet tender — to touch and feel.  Only once you know how to.  Why do I expect anything?  I'm a giver.  I should give unconditionally. Am I not a robot, who's here just to give? Who's here to listen.  But who listens to the listener?  His

I looked at him, he seemed like a kid. Someone who wants to stay home, who wants the warmth of family. I looked at him and wanted time to come to rest. Like I'm in a race with time, and I'm losing it — losing the moments, losing his love. I looked at him and wanted to cry, but tears don't come; they hardly reach the surface. I wish I could tell you how much I love you. Wish I could tell you, how proud I am of you. Even with your flaws, even in your imperfection — my heart sti

Pulse raced. Chill on my spine, perspiration attempting to cool me down. Heart supersonic, working hard - fight or flight, on my mind. Breathe, I could whisper, ounce of strength left. Breathe I couldn't, running out of oxygen. Helpless — yet many options on my mind. Body stable, yet I yearn to run. Confused and afraid, looking for an escape. Escape I couldn't, running out of oxygen. Legs weak, arms heavy. I let it take me wherever it wants me. Then it hits — euphoria or reli

Cities bombed, houses demolished. People burned, babies killed.  Children awake, empty stomachs. Every night, every day — everlasting. Sun shines and dips, moon follows in contrast. What remains is darkness in the ever bright world. Society turns a blind eye, belittles the suffering. Afraid to speak out, and question the evil. Silence is heard the loudest. Silence is the enabler; silence is complicit. What remains is darkness in the ever bright world.

The winds are cold again.  They're calling me,  each one mightier than the last.  The air feels heavy, choking my lungs, I gasp for a breath.  As I reach for the warmth — warmth I've been craving.  It comes with light.  Light that shines in front of me.  I try to reach for it,  but little do I know, you cannot hold what's unattainable.  Yet I leap — leap to catch it, spirits high,  a smile on my face,  hope in the midst of hopelessness.  And then it vanishes.  Along with me.

Wish I were enough for you, as is, just as I am.  You're always wishing me,  to fill someone's shoes.  I can't be who you want me to be, I've disappointed you, I've failed as a friend, son, a companion.  Am I enough as is? Then why does my mind tell me otherwise? Why do you tell me otherwise?  I fight myself,  fight the demons you give me, And the ones I already have. How long can I go on, though? I ask myself. I'm hanging on, hanging by a thread, barely.  I feel myself drift