Fully cooked batter,
Sprinkle of half-baked sighs.
A recipe of truth —
Never a lie.

Throw out the salt;
Add aged cheese,
A dollop of sugar,
A dash of chilies.

Don’t mention the sweat,
Nor the quiet cries.
Because
It’s the recipe of truth —
Never a lie.

Serve the truth,
Or leave it dry.
Maybe a pinch of water,
But never a lie.

The saddest goodbyes
are not the ones that are said
but are left untold

She, an eccedentesiast, with a lie behind her smile
There lies, deep within her galaxy,
A void — a lacuna she hides.
A solivagant beauty
Roams an eldritch path,
Fighting a solo battle, hidden from sight.

Don't be a diamond; it reflects, not glows.
Become the sun, outshine the stars.

Can you hear it loud and clear?
Come closer, over here
It's screaming from within my deep hearts core
Can you hear my silent roar?

I'm not who you think I am,
What I show you is all a scam.
This is not the actual me,
You only believe what you see.

If I help you,
You must help me back,
And if you don't,
I'll change my track

On to the next person I'll go,
So that, into me, all the benefits flow.
"You're so selfless!", if I hear you tell,
I know I've twisted your brains very well.

"Do good and it'll come back to you."
Is that so? Doesn't seem very true,
Lately, my do-good scheme,
hasn't been working like how I dream.

Thats when it hits me plain and hard,
All of you are playing the exact same card.
We're all just actors in this stage,
Our true hidden selves, behind a cage.

Every one of us is trapped within this feat,
of manipulation, trickery, and deceit.
We're all just pawns of something greater here.
Is this darkness, the so-called fear?

I am a lock without a key,
the salt and tears lost from my sea.
As I scrape my arms and pull my hair,
please free me from this twisted lair.

For a girl who has all but none,
is it too greedy to ask
for just one person who sees the truth
behind her painted mask?

For a girl who used to fight for space,
since when was "alone" her normal case?
For a girl who used to yap all day,
since when did she have nothing to say?

For a girl who did zit but act —
doesn't she deserve a reward?
"For the best acting skills of the decade,
we present to you... the Oscar Award!!!"

God, you're such a cruel witch,
throwing me in this pile of ditch.
Why do I have to be the one
to get your ***** work all done!?

God, I am SO fed up of this.
Fed up of playing the morning sun,
with a beam on my face, as I lighten your days —
"***, this is so fun!!!"

Just gimme a BREAK,
GODAMMIT!

I am SO done.
I am SO done.
I am SO done.

Doctors see more blood
in sterile rooms
than soldiers do
on broken land.

Stems of memory
sprout from the roots of our heads,
nourished by cleansing rituals and events.
As we mature, so do they—
a young, shaggy tuft flourishes into thick threads,
looping at the ends like grapevine curls.

Some strands grow weak and brittle,
corroded by storms of stress,
waves of sweat,
droughts of heat,
and floods of chemicals.

Eventually, they loosen—
too exposed, too old to thrive alone—
and slip down the drain in scribbles of ink,
pulling along unfinished stories and thoughts,
leaving gaps, holes,
blank spaces in memory.

In time’s wrath,
what once bloomed and burgeoned
wilts and withers
into dry, forgotten clumps—
until one day,
no roots, no memories—
only silence.

Sown seeds grow into crops
on a wide field.
The longevity of the crop
is not always dependent
on the time taken to nurture it.

Too much water
floods the pores,
slowly seeping out,
no longer able to reach the roots —
and the shoot eventually dies.

Other external forces,
like pests and weeds,
reduce the yield.

The health of the crop
can be improved
by frequent irrigation —
not too much, not too little.

Frequent ploughing of the field,
regular manuring, and
assurance of no interference
is more than enough
to bear fruit.

The more I focus, the further you stray,
Even for a second, I want you to stay.

To escape from reality, to break free from this cell,
In this illusion of a dream, enchanted by a spell.

Every time I close my eyes, you fill darkness with light,
But the closer I reach, the more I lose sight.

You stood at the top of the stairs, reaching out to me,
Radiating a beacon of hope, I grabbed it hard with glee.

You are now a smudged painting, a lost faded sketch,
The more I try to remember, the more you look a mess.

Hues of yellow and pink, drifted in the haze,
Splashed with joy and delight, a picturesque mosaic.

It still lingers in my heart and soul,
That picture-perfect moment of a story gone cold.

Somethings changed in me.
I'm no longer the tough and bold girl I used to be.
I no longer cackle or laugh my heart out.
I no longer yap, scream or shout.
I'm no longer the girl who was disgusted by love.
I'm no longer the girl who was worn like a glove.
I'm no longer the girl who was thin and lean.
I'm no longer the girl with the good jawline.
I'm no longer her with red and brown spots.
I'm no longer her with a face full of dots.
No,
Then what am I now?
That I know–
I am a girl who's sensitive and sweet.
I am a girl who's fragile and weak.
I am a girl who let's out small giggles.
I am a girl with a voice so soft, it tickles.
I am a girl who melts, when I see love and care.
I am also a girl who's independent, no longer a pair.
I am a girl whose put on some weight.
I am a girl just accepting fate.
I am a girl with dotted lines.
I am a girl with wrinkled smiles
Which one do you like? If you'd ask me,
I think I'd say
The new new me~

"Look at that fatty!"
The crowd starts roaring.
The poor kid's laughing too,
As the insults keep pouring.

"You're flat as a table!"
They snicker out loud.
She shakes it off with a laugh,
Silently wishing she was round.

"Check out those juicy melons!"
They praise the boy’s sight,
As the girl gets devoured
By their monstrous delight.

Stand up for the bullied—
Tell ’em, "That's rude."
They'll start mocking you:
"Aw, you tryna be someone good?"

Call the perverts out,
And tell ’em to shut up—
No, they won’t listen to ya,
They'll call you the ****.

Why?
Because in this generation,
The good's the bad,
And the bad's the good.
It’s sad to say,
There's nothing more to be understood.

Citizens turn terrorists when terrorists terrorise them;
a world without terror is without a world.

"You broke my expectations,
now my thought's all a mess
I saw what you're in reality,
can't believe i was obsessed"

"All those years, what a waste
Guess I just got bad taste"

"Buried alive, can't cry, why, my life is such a lie"

"I thought you'd make me smile forever
But my forever got an end
You used to give me so much hope,
now i'm someone you can't mend."

Hey, is that what you think?
Sorry for the torturing

Gave it a try, can't meet your eye, wish I could just call you mine

I took my friends for granted,
didn't feel your worth before
But now in isolation,
I want you even more

You gave me more than thrice a chance,
now won't you give a second glance

It got cold, the life we rode, our story untold.

The sand is my canvas
The waves, the ink
The footsteps, my fading thoughts

You look, but do you see
between the lines of my poetry?
You hear, but do you heed
the turmoil beneath my silent plead?
You think but do you wonder
if I'm okay after years of blunder?
You sense but do you feel
my true colors shut by a seal?

Your poems
need not necessarily be
an ocean of metaphors,
brimming with lofty words.

Sometimes,
all it takes
is a drop of water
to quench
an ant’s thirst.

Hahaha, you'll hear that first!
In random talks we'll be immersed,
like there's no one in the world but us
We're the definition of a mess!

One's a girl who's smart and quiet,
no, that's what you'll think at first sight
Those close friends who know her well,
know she's got a lot to tell!

Other's a girl who's balanced right,
with a good amount of all, she's bright
if there ever is a heart to mend,
she'll be there with one to lend!

The last out there, is a crazy one
her teeth shines as bright as the sun
She's got the guts, but not the glory
Basically, she's the fun in our story!

We don't fight much
but when we do,
we make sure it's settled
by the noon.

And when we laugh,
we howl to the core
We chortle so hard,
our cheeks become sore!

A world without you,
is a world without me!
We didn't meet by chance,
but by destiny!

You loved me.
I've hurt you.
I'm sorry.

It's all on me.
No one else is wrong.
Let them blame.

Is this enough?

I've cried rivers,
Become a desert.
There's no more life left.

Is this enough?

My friends are gone.
I took them for granted.
I stand alone and empty.

Is this enough?

I slap myself,
When a smile creeps.
I don't deserve it.

Is this enough?

Your needs come first.
Trample on me.
I am your slave.

Is this enough?

I've lost it all-
my tears,
my friends,
my happiness,
my respect,
my humility.

Is this enough?

Will you forgive me?

Words are mightier than the sword
They don't ****,
They give pain far worse than death