THE TALE OF A LOVE ANTAGONIST

My feelings were homeless, no hope.
You gave them a home, all my desires you sheltered.
You’re the best feeling I’ve ever had,
better than alcohol and drugs.
I love when we get drunk in love.
You’re all my weaknesses combined,
but I’d still go to war to keep it all.
You’re the chains I’m tied to, the escape I cannot refuse.
You curse me with your love,
only to bless me with your ocean-like expressions.
You’re the pain I wish to receive
for your eyes hold the antidote to my worries.

I never said my heart was vacant
but you broke in and made it yours.
My heart has been robbed
and now I can’t find my heartbeat.
Turned it into your temple,
and your worshipper I became.
God wouldn’t be vexed
if I worship him a day less just for you.
I stared into your eyes,
and I saw love laughing at me,
because I would fall for you like a failed rocket
test into the ocean of heartbreak.
Love kills, pain heals. I’m already dead.

From: A SAD JOKE TO LAUGH ABOUT

By Omale Rex

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THE MOST HURTFUL TRAGEDY YOU CAN IMAGINE

If the devil answered prayers,
he would definitely want to make this happen.
Nightmares are dreams to some,
we would both be the sweetest tragedy.
I can see the fire in your eyes, ready to be set ablaze.
You and I would have Heaven and Hell in collision.
Our story would be like having all sinners in Heaven,
while the saints dine in Hell.
Why wouldn’t the devil want this?
This sweet tragedy will never happen.
I can’t say I’m falling in love, I don’t know what love is.
I’m drowning in this undefined spirituality.
Your description would be every figure of speech put together.
You start where the ocean stops.
The sun envies your awakening.
Albert Einstein would’ve had problems solving your mystery.
William Shakespeare would’ve had problems expressing your beauty.
The Pope would’ve issues preaching your spirituality.
You’re a Saint, I wonder how God would judge this perfection.
Why wouldn’t I want you?
You make everything blurry, I only see you.
But you’d never see me or yourself the way I do.
You’d settle for less, “the most hurtful tragedy I can imagine”.

From: A SAD JOKE TO LAUGH ABOUT

By Omale Rex

WHAT’S MY CRIME?

These pills don’t function no more,
but I rather have them
than live with the jokes of my mental health.
This mental state isn’t a place for me,
but it’s way better than this ill society.
Still people expect me to act normal,
like that’s not ill enough.
The truth is, no one is truly as armed as a sane person.
What’s my crime?
Mental illness is crime now.
The victim isn’t endangered, but, the dangerous one.
These thoughts hunt me, so does everyone else.
But I’ll rather hide from humans,
than run from my negative thoughts,
for they are evenly comforting.
All these pain and depression pricks through my tormented heart,
but what people may say tears it into pieces.
Don’t not be afraid, I come in peace.
The alarm rings, they have come for me.
Every hope and believe they take away.
I seek for peace, yet, I drown in pain.
My sanity shall reveal when we all go insane.

From: A SAD JOKE TO LAUGH ABOUT

By Omale Rex

LIFE’S AN ADDICT

Life is a wild drunk.
We are its daily shots of alcohol,
hoping to satisfy every urge and want.
Slowly sipping us out of our bottles of comfort,
’till we’re wasted and lost in an emptiness we can never recover from.

Life is a chainsmoker.
We are its stacks of weed,
prepared to get tied down in comfort paper.
Only to slowly burn us out into ashes,
as we dwell comfortably in this perfectly rolled piece of discomfort.
Blunt to our emotions.

Life is a drug addict.
We are its dose of pills and portions,
Every dose is a step closer to insanity.
Addicted to the feeling, the hurt never stops.

Life is mentally precarious.
We are its medium for getting through its hurt.
Life’s as disappointing as Santa on Christmas Eve.
Maybe Life’s heartbroken.
Once, a companion it had but now all alone and sad.

We don’t make mistakes.
Life sits in an empty room with supplies,
creating events, situations and mistakes unknown to our knowledge.
Life is imperfect.
No, Life is all about imperfections.

By Omale Rex