“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.

do i fall in love with people anymore
or do i fall in love with how much they love me

oh tom
i can see behind your eye
your veins bled out all you had
you’re dead on this summer night
it’s not right
but you weren’t fit for the outside
to them it’s another day
if no one cries for you
i’ll be the few
i will sit and sing
because you can see now
you’re beautiful again
i ponder my desires
i want to be with you
things aren’t so great
you wouldn’t understand
i don’t either
but i know i will cry for you
my tears will seep into the soil
you’ll enrich the earth
one day you’ll be new
never forgotten
at least by few

This Dark Well Soul

This dark well soul,
depleted,
desert dry,
having nothing to write of,
and nowhere to write from.
The world moves on,
as his pen sets, silent, and still,
waiting, for another poem,
waiting, for another poet,
to admire, and then forget.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021

I don’t feed her fears
I feed her habits

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

Uneasy in her silence
Vulnerable and bare
His words cut so deep
She struggled not to care

Pensive for a moment  
She felt inadequate, yet free
Taking time to reflect  
On the woman, she’d come to be

The strength she'd sought so desperately
Showed up a little too late
Devoid of any resolve
Perhaps she'd met her fate

The search will take your breath, but the awakening will restore.

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

In a world of dreamers,
are you awake or asleep?

In a realm of promises,
which do you keep?

In a land of tomorrows,
when does he beseech?

Within thoughts of conclusion,
does she retreat?

In the be all end all,
why does she screech.

I think we're all dead now,
we weep
we
weep.

Everyday that dawns,
you slip away a little more.
The distant stare,
the apathetic eyes.
Your love is as dead
as the roses in
the trash.
Your heart is an
abyss that I'm
lost in forever.
Belladonna drew me in.
The poison kept me there.

I embraced the cold when white blankets fell to the earth,
but you stayed warm in my embrace

Rain poured on me like the new flowers,
you felt my tears finding a path downwards

I offered shade on a sunny day,
taking the brunt of the August sky

The wind was no foe to my strong stature,
arching me towards you taking shelter

My leaves fell to the earth,
you jumped with joy into my autumn rainbow

Where are you now? Who do I comfort and protect?

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

"What is life?" She said.
  "A sharp knife" he whispered.

~
pureland flower, always
twisted into someone else's
creation, never of her own
~
volition, breakable eggshell,
quiet and still, lifeless
from pushing boundaries,
~
a color without color, lifted by
the breeze, folded up neatly,
no wonder why nowhere to fly.
~

in the most sensational ways

One day I hope you understand
All the cuts and bruises
I laid on your heart
All the cruel words I spoke
The suffering I gave you.

One day I hope you understand
What it all meant
To me, to us
What was meant to be
This, my flaws and I
Lurching drunkenly down the crooked path
Unlit by darkness in dead of night.

I too, am searching
For the way but it's oh so dark
So difficult to find the light
The light which I would give
To you, over and over
A thousand times if I could in a thousand lives
I'm searching endlessly in darkness
If I could just give that moment to you
Just one moment of that
Pure joy, pure bliss,
One moment of that light
I'm sure it will be, I'm sure I'll find it
Somewhere, just to pass it on to you
So you could have it
Forever and ever.

And you, you would be lit so bright
Even in the midst of darkest night
I can see your shining face glisten
I promise it from my heart, listen -

If only I were to find the light
The light that would shine so bright
I search everywhere, I'm trying, I swear
High and low
Near and far
In and out.
But I ***** yet in darkness
For you, for you, my love.

SWIFTLY
ripping
open
the
wrapping
to behold
your
convoluted
soul

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

Facebook
YouTube
Hellopoetry
All the **** I scroll through
While I wait on you.
And I'm tired of all of it.
Get back
Get on
Get it done
Or get gone
I just want another hit.

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 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

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.

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

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.

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