Where Are All My Convictions? On Top Of Some Pocket Or Did I Leave Them In The Middle Of The Road? I

Insane.

Empty bed reminding me the screams that fill my head,feels like a dream,but i can't let go of it's reality. The thread of it,slowly becomes thin. Hitting the point where i lost my voice,can't be capable of screaming anymore.

The sheets cover my insanity,there are my fears hiding,hugging me cause they don't want me to go outside in this repeating society.

With these emotions i became insane.

Her heart could drift away

because home' s her place

where she took care

of her heart that stood and stared

at the little things hidden behind

a laugh , startle in the night ,

every starlight in her sky

showing there's love

in anything she does ,

so she whispers

secretly , smiling

to herself

"I'm the best"

and back then

she never regretted

the magic she possessed .

-t.f.s.

We don't waste time in speech,

We do bleed in touch, angels of love..

And it is tough to know how much

Life spends your worth to live on.

Something seems to be found in loss.. we never know.

-t.f.s.

Singing Nightmare.

nightmare is a singer

singing in the dark as

there is a following cry

in the corner of my own.

sirens appear as

hallucinations of deep fear,

crying is not gonna save us,

trap is going to break us,

no one is here to take us.

the fear we are waiting for

is near...

so closer,i can feel the cold air

making goosebumps on my skin,

telling me to prepare

no time for deadly stories,

fear soon is coming,

screams aren't helping

they only break the ceiling

wishes in this planet

don't come true,

death is all for you,

all for you,

don't waste it

don't taste it,

don't regret it,

hear it...nightmare comes,

it comes for you to

sing you a song.

“Passion changes it, the depth and timbre of voice, the sound of your name.”

— Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson

“You scorpion woman, you have the devil's mouth

And you have scales for skin

And a snake's venom isn't as potent

As the deceitful sounds made from the hole in your painted on face

You're a tree bent by the wind”

Self- rejection.

I could hear my own silence

Deep down my throat it hurts

To take mistakes in one sip.

-t.f.s.

— ;

We live in a twisted world

As we dance before

a broken glass and a murder.

— shattered , but we speak truth.

Somewhere in northern Italy

“If I could have him like this in my dreams every night of my life, I'd stake my entire life on dreams and be done with the rest.” - André Aciman, Call me by your Name

Sweet Music

Loving is your sense of touch,

Soft and gentle- just the way you look.

Your empire is my work of art,

Outstanding , my home is your eyes-

Searching for a spot invisible for others,

A smile so warm greeting me.

Tiny little fingers crossed my heart,

For a second, fire burned within me-

Voice like a thousand deities singing

Waiting to be reached for assurance ,

Looking for that comfort you gave ,

A sweet music that echoes beneath.

-t.f.s.