“The saying remains that we are not a reflection of a social realm, though it is true instead that society is a reflection of ourselves, of our own hands, as it is in our own making. Why men weep, said to be rare, is not…
Let me lay beside you Cold, in the rain While you shield me in your arms, Like a mother without a child. I feel like a man without power, Like a man without a smile, Like someone without the world to bring up, As you…
“As I lean closer to comprehending all of this, I discover more and more. It is then, upon when there is no more to learn, that I annihilate what I desire to be no more.” – Anonymous Love reveals itself on the side of the…
She has pages bonded to see one anotherBy the threads of her heartstrings.She has fuel for her happinessSomeplace or other. I love her with all of my wingsTo spread her warmth across her battlefield.Love is breaking her apart,Though she finds it more to mend. A…
Do not cross the manWith suffering where he stands,For he is bound to break youAnd leave with tears you do not seeRoaring down his pallid cheeks. Do not accuse the manWhose smile is never shown,When all you see is the frownWhen he is always downAs…
“Some may wonder over the cause to a man’s rage. Some may wonder over the cause to a man’s desire to dwell, in unending pain. Some may wonder over why all of this occurs, when a man cannot seem to depart from the memories, and…
“In ways we feel vulnerable, we are in love. We trust, because we reveal to the other what we’ve held back, when alone. Darkness, holds the same appearance, as loneliness. Everything we reveal, is trusted by the beloved other, to not be scorned. Rather than…
“Since it seems that men will feel regret for their action, while it seems that women will feel guilt for their inaction, does this mean that the beautiful woman can only be beautiful, can only ever provide color to the world, when her guilt upon…
We have called Hell away from us,Indeed, we have.We have omitted the pain from our future,More than once.A little thing like pain has roasted our worn hearts,Until they both scramble to embrace the other,Acting with arteries as limbs,And blood as something to taste. I am…
“A memory is much alike the waves of an ocean, in recession. And, when they recede from your feet, they’ll return, to throw tiny droplets as high as your nostrils, so you’ll breathe in whatever scent they have always come to you across. Whether they…
