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Are you okay? Yes I am.. But I wasn't , As I responded to that, Because what else to say, When you aren't, Are you feeling good? Yes I am.. When I wasn't, But how will it help, If I responded for real, Do you need water? Yes I want.. But just shut down, The surrounding chatter, With infinite laughter, I couldn't bear, The noise, Inside me growing larger, Than my voice that was, Shaking my exterior poise, My daughter, Came closer.. As she held my, trembling hand, As she whispered, Mom, it will get better.. My partner, Looked at me, And wanted me to know.. It's okay, Not to be okay, Getting drunk, And throwing up.. Is all part of growing up, Till the part, Where you start loving, Just water again.. My mom and dad, Comforted me,  That although sad as it looks, Things aren't that bad.. As explained by the books, Relationships and people, Are the ones that make you stable, While everything else, Can topple,   Well, there will be loads of trouble, But more than that t

There's not much

There’s not much for me..
As I could see.
Only the waves that left ashore..
Tides preceded to end it’s roar.
There’s not much for me..
As words felt blank.
Only by the grave to be rest assure..
Tears fled to bend the choir.
There’s not much for me..
But a glance next door..
At the forever friendly lad..
Who said you finally spoke I am glad.
There’s not much for me..
Only madness in store..
To keep breathing insecure..
While gripping on to a stranger feels pure.
There not much for me..
Only a tiny bird that sings in love..
Squeaked by a squirrel..
Get over it you aren’t visible as a dove.
There’s not much for me..
Only drizzles thundering rain clouds..
Distant giggles murmuring doubts..
That instantly might lead myself to fame.
Peeping through holes ..
Akwardly pronouncing my name.
There’s not much for me..
Since that life is gone..
When troubled by the stone..
Aimed it to break the river bone.
There’s not much for me..
A road driving home..
Keys unlocking storms..
Wrestling to open clogged up drains.
There’s not much for me..
Only stars that are somewhere outside.
Too far to catch them anyway..
Figurative forms of defining the milky way.
As night swallow the inside.
There’s not much for me..
But the whole sea..
Staring up to me..
While I embrace my face..
That got ignored for too long.
There’s not much for me..
Now I can’t make believe how..
It’s me who stands and talks..
It’s me who gets up and walks…
Stop pretending to be the shadow that stalks..
There’s a whole lot of me…
When you run into mornings..
While darkness lurks.


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