a sad bud shows

its my choice to be unhappy

god has given me this life and its up to me to live it
one day i will find its gone
and i will think
it was my choice to live that way

its my choiceto be strong or weak
to let others fail me or to fail myself
its my choice to win to lose or to be well


its my choice to let the past haunt me the future terrify me or the present cheat me
its my choiceto let a sad bud grow or cut it and remove it and rpelace it with a rose

its my choiceto see a happy flower grow
to see a happy day show
its my choice to give my heart away
my choice to let others steal it from me

its my choice to become who I am or to change who I am
my choice to watch sadness develop inside me
or to erase sadness around me and within me with glow

its my  choice to become lik this
nobody elses
my choice

a sad bud grows

I once hid a secret a long time ago
well I want it to be a long time ago
so I can forget and admire life

a secret that I didnt want
I still do not want
I still cannot historically forget

i may say I am fine
I am
i must be because God is kinder and greater than to be forgotten
but I may say  I will never be fine
becasue a part of me has been broken forever

not actually because of having to know this secret
but more so the heaviness of keeping it
Its very heavy
like my weight

I dont know
sometimes I feel like I know everything and i am grand
sometimes I feel like i dont know anything and i am tricked in smartness
arrogance
but its all just fear
of having to hold a secret for all time


here I am defnding
here I am smiling

I am so grateful for everything
and yet deep inside there
is a gushing wound
like a fallen waterfall of tears and blood
devastatingly flooding the valley of my heart

I may sound sad
i may sound tired
but really I am wishing to forget the day i found this secret
when i remember i cant remember it all
but i rememberthe emotions and the devotion I had
I remmeber i didnt ask for it
it just came
i remember
that questions got answeers too suddenly for me to breathe
I remember flying with broken wings
I remember dyinhg a million times with each word
i remember falling from grace

I remember a useless memory
and an untames heart
people said
god you look awful
i did
maybe i still do
becaue this secret is hrad to live by
this secret is hard to clean ...................

a rose of words 3

The original jumps out of my heart
I am an original depart
I am a diasspointing rose
one of thorns and no beautiful petalls

shivering with the cold shivering in the distance
of a series run dry
no compost to feed my eye
torn and bruised from the ground up
I am a broken flower bleeding rust

rust of metallic scent
of an evil dream
lust of a nightmare that always gleams

desire is a contest I can never win
and yet Iprepare i prepare with sin

passion is a drama i yearn to feel
but roses will die and petals will peel
from the acidic contents of a dying rose

my soul begins to hurt me
my soul begins to ask for its wishes........
my soul begins to wake......

a rose of words 2

just a shadow of a forgotten dream
maybe i know maybe never it seems
maybe i will fall
maybe i will die
but maybe i will call
to you

just a history of an anatural flavour lost
in drama lost in numbers
meaningless to others
worthwhile to me
not in the mood to wonder and plea

jsut words
making slashed sentences
making flowers
making blood

just words
making drama
making time
making lust

just words...........

a rose of words

There are untold stories in the sea
stories about heroes that I cannot see
there are unknown romances across the skies
between galaxies, stars with simple demands

There are unseen fortunes in this world
that go missed that are never foretold
there are beautiful flowers broken in the shade
of an old story that is always to fade

Monthly Discoveries of march

3 already 

morning is gone already

i see it all the same already

i see it all the same

this month all i ask

is to do something different and strong 

Different and Strong 

Echoes in my mind_(without the sin)

a new baby girl is born far far away... and i am still sad so near
i think
creations and deprivations hand in hand
I have deprived myself of breathing, living nicely, happily alive
and it is my hand on my neck choking all young within me strangling all sweet next to me
un
natural amidst the beautiful singing of a newborns song
strange the same name and I am still wrong
 the unpredictable curled way they are and  the smallest touch makes them wriggle
and the sweetest smell makes me smile and the coincidence makes me for a moment , just a young instant make me feel fine

and yet i am unpleased with gods plan
i am accompanied by abnormality
by residuality
of a terrible affair
______________________
maybe you are right
but maybe you are the wrong perosn for the right person
how would you feel if were the wrong person ?
are you sure God wants you to meet the right one ? maybe they are wrong too you just havnt realised it yet

for a small moment I feel calm
I feel calm thinking of a young dream
watching a beautiful dream
tempted to go the right way