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

You merely adopted the dark; I was born in it, consumed by it, molded from it. I didn't see the light until It was too late.

Making love is
an art.

Fortunately I am
an artist.

I would love to love you
(your quick and wicked mind)
Oh , but turns the page of time
I lay you down in rhyme

At the bottom of the pit
runs a river of spit,
In the subway, rough play
pays out a quid,
Sally's getting pally
with a scally in the ally,
And there's no time to dally
if she wants another hit,

Because it hits the place
that's away from here,
Where the kids don't die,
and the kids aren't feared,
Where poets and dreamers
escape fate sealers,
And the doctors and dealers
are not one and the same.

But when love is laced with
intoxication,
You find no shame
scraping up the pavement,
Twitch the fiction from your lips
when they ask about your kids,
Let them think that your a victim
when your asking for a payment,

Because it hits the place
that's away from here,
Where the kids don't die,
and the kids aren't feared,
Where poets and dreamers
escape fate sealers,
And the doctors and dealers
are not one and the same.

I kissed a girl with a broken smile;
nothing could come near.
She carved it with a pocket knife;
slit from ear to ear.
And she wears it like her favourite scarf;
it keeps her from the cold.
So I told her its only woven by
her enemies of old.