I write the lines appearing in this little pink journal you gave to me on my 17th

I don’t think I give enough of them to you

In my defense, I’ve never told you most of the things in here

Never will, they are my past, you are my future,

In between is my little pink journal you gave to me on my 17th

And somewhere within these walls
I’m 8 again

And the world isn’t a bad place
but simple one
I wanted to discover everything about it

Masks were used to protect others from me
not the other way around;
not to protect me from the prying eyes searching
for a smile that no longer exists

For a smile I’ve forgotten how to give

And razors were never in my hands but my father’s
as he shaved his beard and tickled me with the scruff on his chin afterwards
He doesn’t do it anymore but I miss those days

when I wouldn’t wake up to a wet pillow
but a wet bed
and I’d run to my mother’s room
because I couldn’t bring the mattress to the bathroom myself
Now I don’t go to her anymore

because she no longer knows how to listen
and I no longer know how to speak

I should bring an end to this,
Whatever it is that ties me to you.
From the first time you didn't cross my mind,
Up until the very last, I should've known.
It took me too long to realize
That none of the things we ever did
Meant anything at all, to either of us.
And that my continued existence after everything-
Not to mention the pain,
Tells me all I need to know,
And the dissonance grows;
Solace, it seems, comes from only me.
Somehow, I'm okay with that.

O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!!

My past is something like no one care,
A beautiful childhood,
Where morning is just begin,
Rush to open television
In the sharp morning of 5
A world where I get my peace to reside.

BY VEDANTA ANAGHA

maybe if i write about you enough
spread proofs of our love on the internet

let strangers know how we used to dance
the gods from the satellite will bring us closer

maybe they are playing games with us
shooting our waves south to north

the earth is round
we will find each other again

it’ll be a Thursday
and the moon will be shining

when we do meet,
you’ll look like me — maybe older.
your firm hand will hold mine
and i disappear in you.

I didn't know and
I couldn't understand
                                           Anything about myself.

I couldn't see through and
Never had tools,
                                                     Pitch dark and wandering by stars.

I didn't know and
I couldn't understand
                                           Social rules, quiet cues, or how
                                                        Became my "muse".
An island
                                 A shipwreck
                                                                         Adrift at sea
I didn't know and
I couldn't understand
                                               My forsaken longing for true connection,
                                                                  
                                                                    Or what you meant
                                                                       When you said

"Stop painstakingly crafting your prose as if you must earn my attention"

Scouring
                                   Half blind
                                                                       For the unloved part of me.
I didn't know and
I couldn't understand
                                          My desperate diversity.

Shackles clattered free with every blackout pour

Each line a rush of promises I knew would rot

Filled myself to forget nothing was ever there,
Expanding the hollow before it even had a name.

I didn't know and
I couldn't understand

                                           I was heaving the empty unknowing alone,
                                                     An anchor keeping me drowned.

With no practice feeling, I stood
     Petrified to appear the fool,
                                                                   I didn't know and
                                                                 I couldn't understand.

After numbing for years
I finally learned and finally healed,

                             This quiet apology is not an excuse
                      Only late recognition from my old recluse.

I know you don't wanna talk to me and that's fine.

I've just been wondering if you're finally okay after all this time.

But you have to believe me I was always on your side.

When I finally got him to confess, a part of me died inside.

And that day I left you as you cried.

I was late for the case worker who brushed what I said aside.

I wanted to apologise, but you have every right to cut me out of your life.

But I want you to know I was always on your side.

Are we 1,75m tall?
No, but we can do 10 pushups.

Do we get good grades?
No, but we try our best to learn.

Are spear ribs still our favourite food?
No, but we do eat.

Do we still play basketball?
No, but we do still swim.

Are we happy?
No, but we haven’t given up.

Do we still believe in humanity?
No, but we also haven’t lost hope.

Are we gonna cry right now?
No, but we will when you aren’t watching.