I saw the time in your eyes,
that had me pause my breath like a stopwatch,
As if the feelings were a crime, that had
me caught out with what all it had got.
Cos when love had robbed my heart;
I grew impatient to go and call the cops.

Or was it me being impaired,
to humbly assume we could have made a perfect pair?
For the chorus of kisses subtly convinced every troubled
thought, dancing carelessly on top of my hair.
I could have been trying to force fit a puzzle piece, but it
only cuts me into pieces, realizing it was all a jigsaw.
And to nobody’s own prediction, “a shoot your shot
moment,” could prove to be so lethal.

Three stanzas; a standard for a quick understanding;
Accepting what’s current; a love of passion quickly
turning out so passive— a casual happening.
A cold turn, in the direction of a quicken head,
turning to have a glimpse of you as much.
But for this time, after having the taste of another broken
heart, I’ll put a stop to that broken stopwatch.

You were enchanted by the mystery,
You thought it was love and pursued me.
Been excited to discover every part of me.
Touched me like a book, what an interesting story it could be.

I am just ordinary,
people might see me as an old book that could not be understood easily.
I am just nobody,
but you brought me up to life where my existence has been saved from a tragedy.

You have stolen my heart that made my feelings to ramble.
'T was confusing...
and for a moment, I never thought that this will cause me to slumber.
'T was frightening...
A nightmare when we became lovers.

We both made this story, a fairytale.
In the end, it's ourselves that we fail.
Fantasizing each word, trying to mend the aching wounds.
It's not the sword that cuts, but the lies that's ripping us 'till we hear the rhythm of the heart that pounds.

I have never lived my life through your expectations.
Still, we tried to chase everybody at their romantic phase,
while being deceived by our own illusions
As I turned the page, showing fears that I couldn't face.

I laughed when you told me that, alone, I can write it beautifully.
like the songs with a perfect melody.
You think that tearing me apart could turn into a perfect art,
Leaving me afraid and lonely.

I was left there, hanging.
In every page, horrible scenarios are ranging
I was left there hoping,
Just in case there still be a happy ending.

does it make you feel
like a big, strong man
to bring up my dead dad
and call him a loser
for being so sad?
and then to compare me
to him
like i don’t
stand a chance
to go anywhere
and i may as well
give up
and go to hell
because i’m already
living there
every day
is a nightmare
when i should be
following my dreams
and not my fears
but i’ve been fighting
with these feelings
for several years
i’ve cried the seven seas
worth of tears
and i’m done with this ****
i no longer want you here
i don’t need your negativity
dragging my bones through the dirt
i’m tired of being broken
and hurt
as you tear and rip
me down to nothing
and steal away my worth
i was put on this earth
for more than your
petty entertainment
my strings are being cut
and i’m no longer
letting you have control
it’s my world now, baby
and there’s a fire
blazing in my soul

Sometimes I feel like a star \\
Each time I'm falling in love
Crashed out on the girls' mother earth;
Wishing them a comment as I was just
A comet, passing by in their world.

Saying bye to being another guy, in their
imperfect world— pretending to be perfect
/// Just to make their world perfect,
seeming out of this world; now I'm constantly
forced out of their space.

Start a line of thought, like a youngster
who had the chief insensitive;
Now I select my words wisely, with
silence—as no evil will be a cause of a weapon.
And of course, I start every prayer, by
coming with a confession.

As I’ve learnt the sharpest
dagger, is a jealous eye,
Worshiping all the things it lacks;
recalling those who refer to your
character only by its past—the ones to
stab you in the back.

Building up my anger,
      brick by brick.
Laying a wicked heart upon
the cement of hurt I feel;
And if I were a street— everyone would
now be correct to walk all over me,
      brick by brick.

A bridge, to gap two parties as the
middle ground to all their arguments
—an abandoned apartment, filled with
all the tenants, of memories well lived,
      brick by brick.

A madhouse, for all of the creativity;
to out there for the world to even understand
So brick by brick, they lay
Day by day, I try not to build a
wall around my constructed smile,
      brick by brick.