Pen - pen: Disarm my Pain

ON-GOING

I wonder why should I continue on writing this book full of lies,
for it only brings discomfort in my eyes,
or make someone burst in tears, cries,
or use this as a knife for the time till it dies,

I just have to roll the dice,
From the 6th, and 5th, until it reaches 1st,
To the high's and lows,
To my endless goals,
Reaping my head off,
numbing all the wounds,
trying to get up,
But the stiches will burst,
trying to escape, I'm bounded,
This is a sacrifice indeed,
giving up isn't counted,

Words don't seem to get along with the lines,
But I like to test my vocabulary here,
I don't want to impress anybody,
I'm just here to make myself happy,
by making abstract poetry,
Lines without connections, words with deep meaning,
For those who try to dig something special in here,
You're filthy,

I enjoy playing with the words,
but does the words wanted to be played?
Or the words are playing me,
but I do love the feeling of being taken to the clouds, slowly,
Then experience free falling in the sky,
funny,

My heart beats so loud and it beats to write,
and writing isn't the thing that I really use in my everyday life,
One day, I can't take my kids to school by writing such rubbish like this,
but I can write about the things that are rubbish like the 2nd and 3rd lines, with these,
simple skill that I gained after trying so hard,
sounds so raw, sounds so lame,
but i'm not here for money or fame,
I just like to express my free flow of thought with you,
i'm not trying to put locks or opening guards,
No guns, no thorns, no barbed wires,
I just want you to view and experience the things the runs inside my head,
While I am here inside my hell, laying on my bed,

I never tried to become somebody,
I just wanted to be anonymous and eerie,
this is illusive, this is deceiving,
How dare you to like somebody like me?
or like the words and poems created by a rubbish like me?

This is still on-going,
Don't be sad, don't be mad,
Coz you're just a visitor knocking on my hut,
Viewing the dead words from my living room,
While leaving the doors open for someone to view too,

My book is an open door of foolishness,
this isn't good as you thought to be,
I like to interrupt your day, or make somebody's day,
Because my days were counted,
and the timer was hidden and hounted,
no one knows when, no one knows why, no one knows where and no one knows how,
I want to leave a mark, electronically,
in the hearts of those who reads this simultaneously,

Butterflies and birds,
Bats and Owls,
Night with the glowing moon and a chilling house,
Here I am writing using my thumb, on my phone, waiting for my spouse,
But will never return,
coz she's on her expensive blouse.

(I'm only 19 yrs old, I don't have a spouse haha XD)