You and me
In another world you wouldn't have the scars, thin lines on your legs.
In another world I would have stopped them from appearing.
In another world you would still be alive, your hands clean of your own blood, your eyes still shining brightly.
In another world I wouldn't still be learning how to live without you.
In another world perhaps you wouldn't be mine.
In another world I would be lost without you holding me, close to your chest, close to your heart, hands on my waist, my heart on my sleeve.
In another world she wouldn't hate her, you wouldn't hate me, I wouldn't fear them.
In another world I wouldn't be a runner, I might be running, always running away.
In another world I would learn how to love you, learn how to lose you, know how I lost you, know why you left me, know if you love me.
In another world I wouldn't be me, even if I still had you.
If You Weren’t Straight
I can see us, curled on the couch the way my brothers and their girlfriends always are. You would take your big hands and pull me close. I would look into your soft, blue eyes. Your big lips gently brushing mine as we would share our first kiss. My hand would linger up to your brown hair, always the perfect length. My heart thunders, and I can’t think. Nothing I did prepared me for this moment, at least that’s how I think about it; every day. It’s been two and a half years, and I’m not over you. The funny thing is, you and I never, ever, shared chemistry. I got carried away in my head, and it was all my fault. The world I created existed only in my head. That’s the sad reality.
I remember how it started, me liking you. It was back in 8th grade. Right after my mistake on Valentines day. We had dance together last year, and that was akward. She had a crush on you, and that’s how we met. I asked you your name, as the first words we ever said to each other. The look you gave rolled off my shoulder, back then. Later, that look would sink daggers into my heart, but you deserved to give it to me. I remember, I liked your face first, then your frame. You had the build of a baseball player; after all, that’s what you were. But it was your smile that captivated me, it seemed to creep onto your face, like a clever fox creeps into a town. It had a calm confidence to it, as though it belonged. It was a facade, for kindly clever intentions. Your hands were bigger than mine. I know that from watching you play basketball. I can still feel them gently pulling mine into them. Not that it ever happened, at least, not in reality. In my world, it happened all the time. It was the kind of thing I see with other people, other couples I mean. They always want to spend time with each other. I wanted to spend time with you. In my other world, you wanted that too. Now, you probably don’t even want me writing this. You’d think I’m over stepping, writing about you. If you only knew the things I wrote you in my world. Oh, the joy I could bring you, as I read what my heart felt. I can remember, me and you, at the park, a picture perfect picnic laid out on the hill. Our plates, empty, the basket, empty as well. The blanket, a white and red checker pattern, seemlessly laid on the impossibly green grass. You and I would be laying there, propped up by one arm, your eyes, a green? Or were they brown? I don’t recall, but they would be locked on mine. I would gaze at them, as you would sneak your hand onto mine. I would glance down, blush, and and timidly gaze back at you. I’d probably have something on my cheek that you would brush off with your loving hands. Or maybe you’d just say that to touch me. Then, as though on impulse, you would kiss me. It would be like any storybook moment. It was my biggest dream.Until I realised:
You are straight, and deserve more than me.
In another world maybe I didn’t exist.
Maybe I did, but I wouldn’t recognize her.
Maybe she does her hair long, paints her nails,
and puts on blush before leaving.
Maybe she left an impression.
I know I try with intention.
Maybe she likes maths, and loves kids.
Maybe she likes being hugged.
She probably has less cracks on the surface.
Less walls to build, less scars to heal.
Maybe, she's never daydreamed for more.
Maybe she’s living my daydream.
In another world, maybe another me was there.
Another me, a better me.
A me I always try to be.
The Non-existent One
She lays her steps in unknown places,
Wondering without a hint of my soul,
Crossing a world of many faces,
But not my own with no control.
One whispers to thee silently,
Pitchblack empty are my screams,
Why can't you listen or just see?
Appear at once from my dreams.
One can imagine thy nature of beauty,
That you embellish upon our ground,
Will you come and forfeit your duty,
So my eyes will eternally be astound.
Where are you hidding my dearest dear?
I cannot find or am I blind?
On my cheeks there is a tear,
Waiting for life ways to unwind.
Not a single sign or voice to hear,
Crushing a creation of blind past,
They come and go and dissapear,
I need you now or I shall blast.
Imagining what you pretend to be,
Everlast mistakes of a prejudice man,
A sincere fruit of a poisonous tree,
An amazing half should now began.
My mind describing thou body and soul,
Feeling guilty to not perfect,
Not to tell you as a whole,
Undeserveable would self-reject.
Asking questions to seek for none,
Wondering cluelessly through unplanned,
I want to meet thee one-on-one,
And to held you by the hand.
From each others perspective ,
We see all and nothing same,
Beauty and uglyness will be reflective,
Dear, I want to know your name.
She slowly whispered "I am Gaia",
I stood there silent and amazed,
Emerged from the water like a periah,
Not a single movement as I was crazed.
At me her eyes were looking straight,
As hours pass like seconds do,
The wavy trans tries to narrate,
Like a knife it cut me through.
Still in sadden disbelief,
The reflection of a mirror,
Giving no hope and only grief,
If I close them I see you clearer.
You appeared for just a glimpse,
Sitting on the same old spot,
Many classy and some pimps,
Waiting for the same old plot.
For thee asking to be yours,
Swallowing a thing called pride,
So we against all start some wars,
The heart of thee will have died.
Maybe you are not the one,
With whom I will have to be,
Will it have to be undone,
Silent, empty had unfree.
Part of thy heart,
Feeling needy as it seem,
Such a mindful abstract art,
A beauty, an American dream.
Reaction fully same as yours,
The heart beats fast as light,
Started running out of doors,
Giving any means to fight.
First the eyes will disappear,
Then the hair will fall apart,
You will vanish my sweet dear,
Life will be a plastic heart.
My eyes will now open and close,
Travel beyond gravity universe,
Escape a field of a lonely rose,
Become a change to now immerse.
Steps of beauty in my freedom,
Not a single time to turn,
Living such a carpe diem,
Nothing more will I concern.
Meditate to find thy peace,
Hear the silent screams afar,
Your stress will somehow be decrease,
And the soul emerge a star.
This poem started running fast,
Confusing galaxy from above,
Avoiding topic and free at last,
Run away, away from love.
No Such Luck.
In another world, maybe you would have made it.
Maybe you would have jumped a little farther.
Maybe that rock wouldn't have been lose when your foot hit it.
Maybe the ditch wouldn't have been so deep.
But no such luck.
This is this world, and you fell.
You hit the ground hard, and we all knew from the sound you made on impact, that there was no use trying to get you out.
In another world, maybe you wouldn't have been so stupid.
But then you wouldn't have been you. . . would you?
Tears leaking through the corner of her eyes.. The woman with a dead child in her hands.. Looks up to the sky.. More tears.
A heave and a sigh..
"In another world.. maybe.. you would have lived on little Ben.."
Rage.. Anger.. Darkness.. A gut wrenching sob..
The harsh words and the harsher beatings return blocking away the sound around..
"In another world.. maybe.. just maybe I want to.. I want to be your husband.. "
The whiplash descends.. It stings.
Blackie.. Coal.. Lower than the dust.. How many times do I endure..??
"In another world.. maybe.. The black is beautiful?"
A shudder runs through his spine as the bullet leaves the muzzle.. Hits the aim.. And stops life.. Another shudder... "In another world.. maybe.. My hands won't kill people.."..
Two hungry eyes trace the path of the leftovers.. The thrown away food never reached the aching stomach... It landed in the bin.. The fetish of the 'rich'....
" In another world.. maybe.. I could have got that meal somehow.."
In another world.. maybe.. We would've been more peaceful..
More beautiful from the inside..
If we tried, maybe..
In another world and another life,
maybe it would be different
living without strife.
Maybe the sun would shine all the time
Maybe everyone is happy having no crime.
Maybe there’s never a day without rain, or
maybe no one ever has any pain.
Quite possibly in another world,
Maybe to them their happy is sad.
Maybe being glad is actually mad.
Maybe having attitude is not so rude dude.
Maybe being weak is actually having fortitude
and gratitude for said attitude I must conclude
may not be so rude.... Dude.
In Another World, Not Our Own.
In another world, I wouldn't be so shy.
In another world, People would not be so cruel.
In another world, Everyone would be happy and free,no poverty,no racisim.
In another world,No matter,beast,man or woman,would have to be afraid.
Why is it flawed? Simply because well,the things that inhabit our world,are mere humans. Imperfect,flawed and honestly,just kind of destructive.
In another world
The Northern Sea
With a salty breeze
We wander through
The Grand Bazaar
And from desert plains
We count the stars
In another world
An unknown land
We run for cover
Hand in hand
The cosmic rain
Yet we´re the same
Across these realms
I seem to find
You always there
Right by my side
But in this world
Gone are those days
For here we went
Our separate ways
In another world maybe we wouldn’t have moved out of the U.S.
Maybe I would have kept on the path I was on.
I wouldn’t be here.
I’m not talking wouldn’t be alive which is a possibility
I’m saying as you know me...if you know me wouldn’t exist so in another world or life
there is a meaner, bitter, depressed, butthurt idiot walking around wishing she didn’t exist.
Be glad you live in the maybe where the deprecating, miserably fine idiot is walking around.
Not great, not bad, not unique but not what I would have been.
I’d recognize who I was but I wouldn’t like them.
In another life maybe I would have been smarter but maybe in another life, nothing would have been different except what body I was born in and the family I was given.
In another life maybe I would have been wishing for what I have now even with the self-loathe and exhaustion that follow every waking moment. Even with the lethargy that claims the chains around my heart. The guilt that wraps around my purpose clubbing me over not being a better daughter. In another life maybe I wouldn’t want another one for the people around me because everything would be perfect.
Hell in another life maybe I could be born as a housecat and not have to worry about this shit.