I still remember his hands on me
Touching me everywhere
Everywhere he shouldn't
I still live under the same roof as him
Acting like it never happened
Acting like a loving family
But still I feel his hands on me
I told my mom
She knew everything
Yet nothing ever happened
Yet I sleep crying cuz I feel his hands on me

I crave for their affection
I crave for their love
I crave for their appreciation
I crave for them to love me back
I crave for them to be there for me
I crave for there to notice me
I crave for them to listen to me
I crave for their time
I crave for them to stop comparing me with my brother
I crave for the things i know I'll never get
To atleast be happy with me
But it's not gonna happen
I know it won't

I live within your walls
I leave behind my soul
The very air you breathe
is filled with my essence
You'll find my scent
on your pillows
You'll find my spirit
in your sheets

the
smell
of the
barbecue grill
taunts
my hunger pains
I walk on by
uninvited
with no place
to
go.

Nothing hurts more

than hurting the person

you love the most.

The French had yellow
headlights on Citreon
Deux Chevaux’s back
in the 70’s and the six
volt Volkswagens had
as much glow as the
old bicycle limelights.
It’s difficult to imagine
funnel vision but a lot
of people suffer from
looking into the bottle
syndrome like Nelson
at Trafalgar when he
put the telescope to
his bad eye and said I
see no danger yonder
just before a French
cannon ball hit him
head off, no, not on!
I suggest that all Irish
racist xenophobes be
issued with a seeing
eye dog (for the mist) <‘)

I can't stop you
from leaving me

Just as you can't stop me
from loving you .