"My Dad says rain is a good Omen..."

Games

You play,

And then you play along.

You tell yourself it's just a game,

And soon nothing is ever the same.

It gets to you,

The unassuming, you.

Like cigarette ash through your sheets,

Harmless ash into potent burns.

You wait for bonus points and what's due,

You don't even realize,

That the game starts playing you.

Story of how we will get the Persian rug

A blue Persian rug,

A portrait of me so smug,

Okay. One of you too,

Only, you have to fancy a moustachew,

I say, a golden retriever,

We will call him McPeever.

Can we have a cat too?

Please, please, please, Meow.

Football matches and Sci-fi,

You come half way and so will I.

A wall of fame,

For our adventures so lame.

Not a day without each other,

Never ever, ever, EVER.

Not a moment without madness till kingdom come,

Okay. Okay. Fine. Some.
Between white walls and white sheets,
Our sound of love echoing in the surround-system beats,
Happiness to keep and more to give,
A life we have longed to live.
My charming cross eyed lover,

When this is all over.

Old Friends

"I sometimes feel like there is this dark dingy warehouse where I keep storing away my sadness. That like my princess it sits in a dungeon longing for my company, like a secret begging to be uncovered, like an old friend waiting to catch up. And I am afraid if it's polite enough, one day I might stay. For good."

Hey Beautiful

My nerves ache.

Blue and white and blank

For purpose, not of.

I wanted to run, 

but words ran out of me.

Betrayed me. Said they let me be.

Fake smiles, false hopes.

Rid them off me, 

Strip me bare to my bones,

That feel,

dirty to the marrow and further inside.

Wash them clean.

I want to thank you for

Stealing my humility,

And my thunder.

Silence is the new kid on the block.

Say, hey Beautiful,

what are you doing tonight?