there is a well of sorrow
so deep
it cannot be articulated with tears
an ache
so fierce
it consumes you
until all that you perceive
is all that you have lost

I need to forgive myself,
Then only I can forgive you.
I need to love myself,
Then only I can love you.

If I could,
I would take myself far.
Far from me,
And close to you.

If I could,
I would erase myself,
And become you,
All of you.

But for now,
The need for I is greater than the need for than us,
The need for skin greater than the need for love.

If you could, would you wait?
I wish I could tell you when.

If I knew my body,
You would know mine.
If I knew my mind,
You would know mine.

But for now, let me dwell,
In this realm of unknown.
If I settle down somewhere,
I will let you know

Introduce me to all of your demons
Maybe they were once my acquaintances
Let me know of the bad news first
Then nevermind the good ones
Break my heart
Rip off all what's left
And don't ever try to mend it
Take everything that you'll find
I won't ask for anything in return
Because I'm okay with it
Wound what's almost healed
Let it bleed
Let me bleed for you
Leave a scar
And become my permanent mark.

I WILL GO WITH THE FLOW
AND NOT BE ENSLAVED BY
THOUGHTS THAT DRAIN MY ENERGY

Blond bird flew the coop
Confused and abused
Had to find a new use, a new truth
A new page, some new sight to see
Someone else to be and set free
Because his book was read and framed in flames
Always fashionably late
He conquered and became
All the strange
All the strays
And then blew away with the wind one day
With only whispers left in his wake

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

Isn’t it funny,
The happiness we pretend to have
Is the very thing
Holding us back from living.

“Falling in love” is a contradiction in itself, because in love there is only the rising, the ascending, not the falling.
You can not fall in love, but rather, rise.

there are two types of sadness

there’s the kind of sadness
we ignore and
try to get rid of it
by finding new things to do
or we find someone to talk to
by blatantly avoiding any type of conversation
about feeling sad
about having any feelings at all
and then there’s that kind of sadness
that takes over
and it consumes any activity we do
we know it’s there
and there’s no possible way to avoid it
so we feed it exactly what it wants
it craves the sad music
it craves the isolation
it craves the anxiousness
and the sadness comes storming in
it has no manners
here we are calling sadness, an “it”
when all it is
is a feeling
that most people
call home

My thoughts are stuck in my pencil,
And the paper refuses to help.

you confirmed all of my horrors
when you said you can't touch me sober

Caught in this trap,
One made by my own hands,
At least that's what I tell myself,
Am I just a cog in a turning machine?

Ballerina come 'round,
Look at me in the face,
Drop your guard now,
Get out of this nightmare.

It's 11:11
and for the first time
after a very long time
I'm wishing for myself
and not for you

Dancing at night in dark blue denims.
You left the taste of lemon
in my mouth when you asked me to drink it.
I smiled out loud when I heard of your visions.

Dancing in the diner parking lot.
The cheap speaker you brought
is still playing our music.
I yelled that we were infinite just like you taught.

Dancing at the railway station by rail cars.
Looking at the stars,
thinking about which ones we belong.
I point to a pretty pair and you smiled at the dark.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

You are not the love of my life,
You are the life of my love ❤️

In the deep corners of 3am,
I find her.

The emptiness in my eyes,
The truth behind my lies,
The fall before my rise,
And the goodbyes;

It scares me.

The dark beneath my skin,
The light within my sins,
The voice that loudly sings,
And my broken wings;

It scares me.

The wounds I can't heal,
The pain I can't feel,
The loss I can't deal,
And when I am real;

It scares me.

The silence in my little talks,
The stillness in my moonlit walks,
The thought of separate ways,
And my numbered days;

It scares me.

The demons under my bed,
The words spinning in my head,
The blood in my sweat,
And my cold breath;

It scares me.

-Paras Bajaj #PoetrybyParas
Instagram : @mr.parasbajaj