You crawl, you wind
You circle to find
A Strand of your life
Left behind...
...amp..

I am in a very deep pit
I feel nothing will save me
You say, "it's okay,
I have a lot of rope"
I try to grab it
And wrap it aruond my neck
And you say,
"Don't,
Just grab on."

Stay away from me.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

If my love was a song
It would be too sweet for your ears
I swear you would be in ecstasy for years
Your eyes would be blurry
As you'll keep drowning in its melody
Dont get me wrong
Its just too strong
You would've started loving me too
If only my love was a song

So much love lost,

Where do I find my piece?

If no one cares,

How do we find our peace?

you made me feel safe
you set me free
made me fall in love with myself
and gave me courage and peace
just like love does to anyone
the only difference is that
you made me feel all of this
when you left

...in a worn-out field notes
...in the post-it you hid inside your field notes
...inside your head
...inside your head at 6PM
...in the slides that took forever to create
...in your bookmarks folder
...in your untitled folder
...in between deadlines
...in meeting targets
...in ‘on second thoughts’
...in fear of letting go
...don’t let them die

I spend too many nights thinking
Wondering, writing, dreaming
Of someone who doesn't even think of me

i still
do not know
the poem i've been trying to write
and maybe
that's because
i haven't been
writing one at all
or maybe it's because
the poem i've been trying to write
is not ready for paper
and maybe
i'm the paper
that's not ready for it

i want to love you
like a lazy sunday morning
staying in bed
taking our time
sipping coffee
memorising every freckle
like the constellations in the sky
white sheets
and tangled limbs
with the scent of a memory
fresh on our lips.

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

true mantra needs
a seer
a meter
and a presiding deity

cleansing
that fickle mind
with a haunting rhythm
of well arranged syllables

a giant strike anywhere match
which triggers
that fuse of devotion
in the lotus like heart
of the true devotee


© 2021

Harsh words rot in my throat.

Whether I pronounce them or not
I know
that a bad wind will sooner or later bring them
as a bitter gift to your bed of hate.

i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much

people to whom we give the most time
left us with time
we think it was time for some
some are timeless

My life has been so  conditioned by
Absence a longed for presence that I
Know no other and so by forfeit this
Unworthy life has shamefully become
My wretched blanket that I cling to in
Like a child standing before the storm
What is dearest is the least,and the last

I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille

You gave me just enough oxygen to light myself on fire

She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote

My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
Waiting,
For the better parts.
Waiting,
For the “soon”.
Waiting,
For my life to begin.
Because,
I don’t feel like I have lived.
In the nearly twenty years
I have been alive
And breathing
I do not feel
In any of those years
That I have been alive.
I don’t feel like a single breath
That I have taken
Has been real.
I feel as if
All these years
I’ve been stuck
Behind a window
Watching as my life unfolds
Before me.
I feel that
I have had
Zero control.
That I am in the backseat
Letting someone else drive.
That someone else,
Is writing on the pages
Of MY life.
But no more.
I will break that window,
I will take that wheel,
And I will write
My own pages.
My life has begun,
And now -
I’m in control.

One may travel with wonder
through a wonderland
whereas another's mind
may be full of cynicism.

I'm sinking farther into the sea
Air cut off, unable to breathe

But it's not all too bad
The water's warm
and the fish look nice

It's a shame I can only see this
By myself
at the end.

The clock is ticking,
my future slipping out of my palms.
It trickles down my wrists and arms,
the acidic burning leaving harm.

"I'm too young"
"too young"

You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.

someday
i will look at the stars
and be grateful
that you gave me
the space
to love them alone.

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.