If only you knew,
Of the darkness that walks within your shadow,
The whispering sounds,
the unnerving fear that follows,
If only you knew the secrets,
The tales and stories,
Packed with subliminal messages,
that tells of death and glory,
If only you'd open your eyes,
And for once see,
What you thought is and was,
Is all here and real,
You won't recognize them I bet,
your secrets, even in broad day light,
if they walk towards you smiling,
wearing dark glasses to hide their eyes
in a humid day.They now wear clothes
of different styles to take you for a ride,
even cross dress and change the accents,
they play games with your hazy mind
--the secrets you once buried deep under.
They stand peeping behind blinded windows
prowl as shadows soliciting behind half open doors,.
Time flies in a hurry like migratory birds left behind,
you have to strain your ears too much
to hear even the faint foot falls of the past!
Old memories have changed their manners
they try to distract one with invented details
Like the muffled voices in an attic dark,
on a fateful day so long, your old secrets
speak an archaic tongue, that needs to be interpreted.
One has to be artful as the turbaned village elders
who would for your astonishment interpret
the vocabulary of lizard calls, key to nature's intents.
Or the trained eye of an elder who in flashes
of meteor falls, reads the secret messages of universe.
To get a true sense of your own secret
you have to tread the places they hide.
Make them shed their crusted hides
by which they conceal their true color,
which one has been waiting to see,
with a palpitating heart, walking back
to where one walked once, long forgotten.
That is why elders on days of yore
would exhort, embarrassingly repeat too,
not to have any hidden secrets that hurt
even if breathtakingly beautiful like a courtesan.
In some moment one won't expect
dreadful they could turn and become witches,
with fiery eyes, dreadlocks, and long nails.
Wanting to press my cheek up against the creator of life.
For those days when even breathing adds to the
frustration of being.
Exploding with cries, dried out by the desire
to please mankind.
To please society.
Wanting to embrace stillness,
and lock myself away from all words and actions.
My head burns with pains caused by daily demands.
Dividing myself mentally to keep up physically.
Now both worlds are crashing.
I wanna press my cheek against the creator's,
and have him wipe my heavy tears away.
I wanna have deep conversations with him,
staring with hope in my eyes,
that some secrets would spill from his lips one day.
Secrets that ease my mind from being so sore.
I want to press my cheek up against the creator's .....
What could've been is an idea
that unfortunately exists with lies.
I wonder if what could've been
is really what should've been,
just hiding in disguise.
And what if what could've been,
that'd be quite the surprise.
But it doesn't really matter.
Because it would be a surprise,
if what would've been
And if hiding in disguise
is what should've been,
I no longer wonder what could've been.
That's just what what could've been is,
an idea made of lies.
There are things in her life she tries to hide,
things set in an off-white color to the otherwise pristine pigment that coats her existence
Things she knows people would look at her differently for
So she laughs along to teasing jokes,
paints herself in all colors,
allows herself to be the butt of jokes,
lets people think what they want
Because behind the layer of forced complacency,
is a dichotomy of love and hate,
the feeling of a world being shattered and rebuilt in a single second
She is wild and chaotic at her core
Black paint mixed with gold and red and fire and brimstone until it’s more than the sum of its parts
Once you know her secrets, she is different
Once you know her secrets, she is gone
You will never see the girl with the pristine coat again
She's what they all write about,
The girl that fights a war no one knows about .
She's who they all honor,
The girl that secretly dreams up such horror .
There's only so far they can venture behind the mask,
Before they uncover something that was best left latched .
She's not unique or grey or green,
She's lost and alone and wants to be seen .
The girl that doesn't own a bad day, .
She's the one hiding in your letters,
Peeking around your thoughts .
The one you think has it better,
The one you think could never be forgot .
She's the one that was murdered by social media,
The one that continues to smile even though she's past done .
The one that talks to the moon,
And cheats on the sun .
She's the one that takes off her clothes,
But leaves her insecurities on .
The one that cries herself to sleep,
But wakes up smiling .
She's the girl they all want to be,
They have no idea she's dying .
i want someone to read my dirtiest thoughts
and not be scared
or pity me
i want empathy
while i spit blood and cum and sweat and pull at ingrown hairs;
while i tell you i’m not sure why i’m alive
while i tell you i’m not sure anyone loves me
while i tell you i’ve had dreams about you exploding,
your insides spread across the living room walls
in some kind of strange irony,
i want you to be as sad as I am
but lovely enough to pull us both out
i want to be saved
little by little
person by person
word by word
secret by secret
until i know longer feel like you would run if i told you i wanted you to run,
or if i wanted you to stay;
until i no longer have anything horrible enough
to scare you away.
Maybe one day you'll let me
Trace the constellations of band-aids
On your patchwork heart.
Maybe one day I'll tell you
The story of the ink on my skin.
Maybe you'll give me the words
You want to forget.
Maybe I'll tell you why I need to remember.
Heaven and hell in five letters.
You pour another drink,
I can't breathe .
Is this my life now ?
Is this my legacy ?
I'm supposed to understand,
Why we can't just leave,
I'm supposed to realize,
That we're meant to be .
But for some odd reason,
You just won't leave me .
You light another cigarette,
Like I'm supposed to fight the stench .
How can I kiss you when your lips taste like that ?
If you could trade me for a living breathing cup of vodka,
Would you do it ?
Would your love for me stop ya ?
Is there any pain in your eyes,
When you watch me cry ?
Yeah, just turn the tv louder,
It helps block the pain,
Just whisper how much you love me .
People were playing two truths one lie,
We had to figure out which two are truths & which one lie.
They were thinking out in their minds which one to tell,
But i was thinking which one to hide!
Someone said they peed on pants, kissed some guy, dated a smuggler so on and so forth it went.
Finally it was my turn.
I had to speak up which I never ever do whatever is inside.
I can't say I rode on an ambulance with a person who was about to die,
can't say I loved men who were into other stuffs,
or I have smoked, drank and danced with a stranger.
I can't tell whether there is anything left in my life except work and a little bit of creativity inside.
I can't tell I was bitten by a white huge swan because I was running behind her at that time.And I love walking down the streets alone at midnight.
I can't tell all these so I kept quiet.
So I kept on thinking for a safer option and said I had never climbed a hill,
I hate reading books and I love using Facebook out of which all three were a lie.
I see people they speak up and never care a bit,
Whereas I'm here trying fit in!