When you spoke,
I was starving for silence
Thus I ate my words.
I chewed them one by one
Until I swallowed them whole
my stomach rumbled
In protest

I felt sick of you.

It's not the same. It never is. Once motivation is gone, it's gone... And that someone is gone along with my motivation.

Ah to hell with this,
Some loves are born dead
They are meant to not live

God is beyond awesome!

Reality is as rational as how I make it. Yet as imaginary as every real number is. It's just complex. Full of irrationals that seem to make no sense but can be dealt with.

I'm like the knots in my shoe laces, unravelling and loosening the shoe, soon I may step upon the laces and find me on the floor.

With the words of Quintilian... Or something of that sort... Be impossible to be misunderstood.

Our intellect is the key to do goodness.

Some people come into our lives to teach us a lesson, once they leave, it means they already fulfilled their mission.

Poetry is for spiritual growth. Poetry is written to know. It's for knowledge. For real knowledge of life.