I'm sorry;
I'm a vengeful creature,
Unable to let it go,
Unable to even forget.

You broke all of me,
More than just my heart;
You broke my soul and will, too.

I don't want to be like her,
I want to be better,
But I'll worry about that later,
Forgive me, please.

It's your turn now,
I know I'm breaking all of you, too,
But at least I'm telling you,
Which is more than what you can say you did.

"I don't know."

Your heart has grown cold,
This love is bad for my health.
I felt rejected, felt unwanted, felt unneeded so I,
Wrote a love letter to myself.

i hear distant sirens in the night
faint whispers in the snow
white snow tumbles down from the pale pink sky
all is quiet
the trees stand proud and still
the night air is calm and cold
devoid of sound, color, light, or texture

i crave to fill the air
with something
anything

to create lightness out of the dark

Every night at 3 am
I cry myself to sleep
I close my eyes
And wish I'd die
Before the morning comes

Every morning at 11 am
I cry when I wake up
'Cause when I open my eyes
I'm still on my bed
Breathing, but not alive

I can't get up all by myself
I wait for Mom to call my name
Does she know?
She doesn't know
That her dear daughter wants to go

I'd go through the day like a normal person
I'd pretend that I'm okay
But I'm still useless
My life's meaningless
Everything is still the same

'Cause the next night at 3 am
I will still cry myself to sleep
I'll close my eyes
And wish I'd die
But the morning would come again

smoke rings
and bells do as well
and the lamb man's
got all the fleece
we are all gold in an egg-shaped sort of way
way on down the street

the good girl needs a bell
nevermind the ring
i ring my bells for that good girl's favor
ring your bell for the good girl's favor
the lamb man keeps his peace

Underhill
understanding
bells
toll now instead of ring
underhand and under thumb
under-way the lambs run
up and down the street

the wind blows through the leaves
leaving traces of where it's been
it's been down collecting lambs again
dew-run
up and down
the street

wash your wool
for the lamb man's leaving
wash your hands
he's gone
wash your hair
for the lillies blooming
blooming all along
all along
the street

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

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

shirtless screaming through
the heartland and I used
to smoke cigarettes
too.

she never wanted
to stay: the youth
she had
left demanded it.
now, I'll wager
she's somewhere
in an apartment with
some dandy that
wears sweater vests
to Thanksgiving dinner.

maybe she thinks
about me and my little
twisted heart every
now and again:
like when she's away
from the sweater vest
on the toilet
behind a locked door,
"be right out, babe!"
or toting groceries
through a parking lot
to her car,
or signaling a
left turn before
changing her mind
and deciding to
go straight instead.

and
maybe I need to
stop thinking
about her
especially after
three years
incommunicado

but what can I say?
I've never slept on
a bed of nails
I couldn't
dream on.

I am a fly
attracted to your nacreous glow.

                                           Just swat me already.

Invariably,
You prefer to come
To me in the dark.
"You're more my temperature then,"
You once said.
I'm not much of a thermometer,
But I am the eurythmy
To each syllable you give
In such settled shadow.
A play of murmurs and fingertips,
You once named this.
Always I see a wreath in your hair,
In colors of Persia,
Textures of night,
And the soft blended lines
Of you I know
Infallibly.

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

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

Time pervaded with regrets
is your biggest enemy

We are all just but
longing for mercy

Looking for a way to escape
the inescapable?

Yet we stand here
as if we are

Unbreakable

He Called Her; Beautiful

He called her;
Beautiful,
and silence stared.
He called her;
Beautiful,
and silence spoke.
He called her;
Beautiful,
never again.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021

i think that the most damaged people in the world
are the kindest
and the softest

because they know
that scabs can be picked
and you can bleed

Your love is a music box,
a melody that surrounds me;
it intoxicated me.

Love me now,
so that I can feel safe

Love me now,
so I feel complete

Love me now,
so all worries bid goodbye

Love me now,
so I won't be wanting things;

Things I can't have

Love me now,
so I won't be paranoid

Love me now,
so I can escape this everlasting winter snow

Love me now,
so I can be in your arms

Love me now,
so I won't feel like an empty vessel

Love me,
like those people with happy endings

Love me,
so I can feel warm

Love me now,
so I can breathe

Love me now,
so I can see

So I can live...
Yet I can't force you, not because I know that it is wrong
I'm just too tired now.

"Do you know what is more powerful than a nuclear bomb... words."

fools overestimate the vigor of a trigger
fools believe the repeating of beating hurts
fools believe words are absurd

a wiseman sees the ways of a phrase

it really is an art
to take someone's heart
and rip in apart

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

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

Exiled to dusk,
Fractions of the sun
Begin to lift away,
In concealment
We shudder,
Casting our reels
Into a pond of uncertainty,
Clock hands bend
With advancing shadow,
And speak of time
Only in past tense,
I so want everything
I ever felt for you
Preserved for posterity,
Even should forever
Be far less than
We imagined.

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.

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

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.

Once, I had a vision.  I knew I would change.
I knew that the voices were more
than just voices.
They were a calling.

I don't know where they've come from,
these feelings of the dread.
Like demons scorching me,
as these voices in my head!
People in my shadows.  To those I give my trust.
What they say behind my back
is just as good as dust.
Though I know this, I'm alone,
yet I feel this obligation...
It's as if I hear their voices,
cursing me with degradation!

Still, I am afraid.  And still, I don't know why.
"It is as we choose to be, the voices never lie."
What the voices say, all badness in my head.
I can't escape this inner hell,
these feelings of the dread!
Each day and night I'm trapped
as I think about my friends;
Of where our paths shall lead us,
when this road should come to end.
These thoughts that dwell inside me,
these voices in my head;
All wicked and such dreadful thoughts.
When will all this end?

I stir and wake within my sleep,
this nightmare as it haunts me.
The voices in my head grow more,
cursing as they taunt me!
With rage that boils deep inside,
sometimes I just break;
As my eyes go red, my mind berserk,
and common sense is blank!

It's been a while since that's happened,
since that day I went insane,
when I'd blocked against my father's hand
and sent him back some pain!
That memory, that vision, that nightmare
in my head!
That  VOICE  that keeps on calling me
with these thoughts so full of dread!
I can't break free, my soul is tied,
though I know that I must live.
I don't know why, I mustn't die.
I've something I must give.

One day, someday, maybe soon
I will not think as much,
and waste away this life I have
on small things of the such.
At times I see, at times I don't,
the life that I am missing.
Just flush away the life at hand,
with all this time I'm *******.

It angers me to know and see,
and still to take the bait;
To escape for just a second more,
and forget the things I hate,
but wait...
For a short time had it lasted,
to be free of all this stress;
At times I still feel good inside,
but still I am a mess.

The voices grow in number,
calling me to die;
To see the darker sides of things,
spewing forth their lies.
The voices taunt and whisper,
showing me the bad.
They recall of my insanity,
and of my poor old man.

For as long as I have love,
and as long as I have hope,
I will fight to block them out,
and with these feelings cope...

"But what's the point in loving,
for feelings all depressed?"
spat the voices with their badness,
I shall never find my rest...
Yet the voices cloud away
as I smoke another bowl.
I've been high as hell all day,
but I haven't reached my goal.

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.

Take a step into the sunshine,
lean into the light.
Walk where the air is fine,
battle to stay where’s right.
Each heart-true step will take you
on your journey, this you know—
believe in this and trust you’ll
get where you need to go.

Love all the people on your path,
on your journey there.
They will often show you grace
as you act with truth and care.

People tell me everything and I say nothing.


Late night talks filled with secrets and
  bittersweet  sorrow.

The stars tell me their stories,
and I tell them    nothing     of it.

The moon whispers
   words of
       worried
           regret,
never once asking mine.

I hear the sky’s gossip and thoughts of
    wilful      sadness,
and the wind chimes in with the
    sound     of      anguish.


But I am okay.


      This is the façade I’ve grown into.


Sometimes I wish for an ear,
          to listen to what I hear,
     to keep what I want kept,
  to no longer be the Keeper.


But I am okay.

The hurt may go away
but your memory will
forever rest in my soul.

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.