Rain at 2:30

Really sucks to be me

her

Her voice

Her melody

Her pitch

Her rhythm

Her effortless struggles, the chuckle in between, the high notes that are hit aimlessly, the mood that surrounds her, it pacifies, she's acquainted with the paroles, it's the singing, its her vocals for me.

Her steven

Her tune

Her prosody

Her perceived frequency

Her sustaining prelude, her persistent tone, the comfort around her genesis of the song, the heat the crave of joy within her, it elevates, she's got the looks, the craziness laugh, it's the serenity in her voice for me.

Her voice

Her melody

Her pitch

Her rhythm

Her clear conscience,her elevating energy, the smooth careless whisper,her accidental musicality, she's the pearl as she makes the song shine along with her, it's her calmity, the ease,this bitch has while singing.

Her face

Her smile 

Her eyes 

Her loneliness, it's her mood, her laugh ,her hair, her scent, her hands,her ease, her pace,her voice, its her breasts for me, its her chuckle for me,its just her for me

She was my sickness,my addiction,my monster,I would kill for her,till I couldn't get over her,I was in love with the girl next door, you could have seen how I sat and stared at her while she laughed, dreamt,chuckled,cried,screamt, I've sworn that I'm am over her I've found better love, it's like a miracle.

Buns

It kept shaking, rounding up, you could swear your eyes felt it softness, wasn't that big, the boys say they like it thick though they just want it spongy and flexible when they grab it, but her buns portrayed a connoisseur of beauty, covered in Sinitic willow, silky, the steps she took, perfect,a little fierce yet she was scared, she turned and we screamed hugging but I held her a little bit tighter, for perhaps to still feel her bosoms on me, you kindled something, I ought to have said but instead asked for her company

She was in black,in cold,in a headscarf and we would chuckle and dance to loud pop, she's got a weird taste of music like me,it got weirder and we could swear it was the low-key music or the mood around us but I bet it was the absence of the discerning loneliness, she has cold fingers and how they massaged felt like listening to my fav song,alone,walking on the solemn view of dark trees, that wind scraps your skin by a inch and it's cool but colder and lonelier and sad

There was rage around us, it devoured the heat craved by our bodies,I could swear I felt like being inside her,like a spirit yet the sweetest thing I heard that day were moans,she made me feel good and wanted,you know how an ember shines like it's everlasting yet it'll be blown off in seconds,that's the feeling I had awaited and when I got there, it was getting clearer that I might be liking this side more than being straight 

stare

    At the hospital,staring, listening,  thinking, drinking and

all I see is

people more damaged than me,I see pills, I see dirt,I see gloves,I see others running towards the bodybags,I see others lying that they are okay,I see others lost,I see others in pain,I see others in pity,I see sadness,hope, disgust,money,hatred, shame,things I'll never understand,things I'll always remember,things that are unimaginable, things I'll never forget, things that look like miracles,things that look like souls,I see wounds that'll never scar up, I see till I can't see no more.

I give a deep thought and I  sign

Perhaps I was bewitched to always see this, perhaps I yelled or laughed or gave a dark thought or scorned at a dying one or smirked at hope for the sick,or felt nothing for the dead,or dug graves for a ward,or walked away from someone I could help,or gave people's life ultimatums, or praised the weakness I saw,or this is just a way for the universe to balance up the bad energy around me.

I've spent more times in a hospital more than some 90 year old, I've taken drugs more than all my nemesis combined, I've seen problems you'll never see,I've seen the unspoken of, I've seen what you don't want to think about,I've seen alot and all I think of is how many voters are we going to lose this year..

I think none suits this

I hold my mug,same mug I always use,same time,same spot,the window where I'll stare and stare at the green fence perhaps,at the passers by,at the window half open always,at the thought that someone is also staring,at the kids ariving,at the kids playing then I sip my coffee, coke,ginger, rosemary, water,tea,lemon,and I make up stories about them,and I kill some and I wonder on how to read some and on how to hate some and why the other one seems off.and  then my mind wanders it travels into the pit with the smallest peak of hope, I'm sad ain't I?

My mind travels, and there you see this boy,this spoilt brat who thinks bribing is going to solve his problems,who feels good someone else being humiliated,this sadist,I see him as a psychopath yet I don't throw blames,I feel like telling him will ruin his mood and he'll enjoy the sight of my scolding, I've screamed at him, I've imagined knocking his head on the wall again and again and again , I've seem him drowned, I've seem him sleeping the forever sleep, I've seen him in a bodybag, I've seen people mourning him,yet I always pause, smiling at the thought of how the world will punish him,at the thought that one day the universe will balance up,at the thought that bullies gonna get the best part of him, at the thought that these children looking up to him won't trust him when they understand nihilism.

But I stop caring for him, maybe he thinks he's gonna have his mum for a wife,

 but I'm tired and angry at the border between the fortunate and the less fortunate,why must there be a space,but I stare at my mug saying 'that's why there's going to be more of this' I raise it up.

out here

I always wanted to be a banker when I was little, I'd say financial institution would do me great Justice since I presumed I was good with money

I also once told someone I want to be a truck driver,that I was fascinated with big cars,that it was going to be fun to be a woman on the road but I got discouraged that I'll never get enough sleep that the truck drivers abuse drugs

I also once said I want to be a plumber, perhaps because I wasn't sure what the name meant,when I understood it I saw it better to fix pipes,to work with machinery,it was another task that women couldn't do,I also got discouraged that I'll be unblocking dirty sewages that it wasn't hygienic

Now I studied a course that I can work in the financial institution,three years down the line, I'm unemployed, I can't even find an unpaid internship, I use drugs, half the amenities I've been to in my lifetime have appliances that need to be fixed

This morning on the road,I see being a truck driver wasn't bad after all, atleast trucks don't give me nausea,I see that being a plumber wasn't bad after all, atleast I could be employed somewhere, I see that how many people make bad choices based on the advices they're given, I see alot

Like

So I like this girl 

Like how a hangover makes you feel like, she's that headache that pounds, she's that aftertaste of when she tasted like dying and going to heaven, she's the mood that keeps you zoned out,there universe is inexistent, she's the lazy soul,you only feel like sitting there and staring at the void,her.

 I like her like how nausea makes you dislike the decision you made, like how your mind wanders wondering,what if I misbehaved last night,like how you miss the fun though it's aftermath is skinning you,like how you sit there waiting to reduce the toxins, I like her like how you'll sleep on the floor letting the cold consume your thoughts.

  I like her like how the hangover comes to an end,you see she was there,when I was mid sober but she'll be gone eventually, I like her like how she was the pain,she was the ache, you see I like her like how you hate hangovers,I like her like how she's not in my mind when am taking my first shot,then the next then the next, I like this girl,I like her like I loathe her.