You hold my hand still,
But it is always loose
And you talk to me often,
But I know I'm not the only one.

And all those poems I sent you,
That you never bothered to read

She is just a friend,
Still her words you have kept framed.

And I don't know why I still stay.

'Cause  know I'm not the only one,
And this sadness has its hands gripping my throat,
The words you say, though, are still coherent,
But there is a void of emotions behind them

And I tell myself,
You can not recreate a moment of past
Why is that time reduces every thing beautiful to ruins

And maybe that is why I stay,
For in all this decay, I still have not forgotten
The Smell of spring.

And the words I write, no longer fits the man you have become,
So you can hold on to her words,
While I hold on the lyrics, of the music long stopped,

Hoping one day it will find its way back to me.


Till then, I shall let my friends Wonder
Why do I still stay

My words started here, my journey started here. And so here I'm again, laying my last words down, digging a place to rest my love. And here they will remain waiting, maybe hoping, forevermore

The laughter started here, the curious questions, the familiarity; the feeling of knowing you like the back of my hand. The storm came, the realisation that love, sadly, comes with its limits. The helplessness of the world standing against us, forevermore

I don't know how, but we caved in. Slowly at once, like a dam slowly cracks under the force of water, till it rips the **** thing off and there is nothing the dam could do but watch the destruction unfold. You hurt me, I wounded you. Our love took us on the top, and so obviously when we fell from grace, we kept falling, forevermore

But it stops here. I'm stopping here. And I know you will too. This has gone too far. Let us tend to ourselves. I have to find myself. I have to know that there is a me out there, that can function without you. Let me stand. I can't keep holding on to you, afraid that the moment I let go, you'll dissipate. I have to know that you'll accept me for who i become when I don't mold into your idea of how I should be, for evermore

So here I'm, burying the future I have always dreamt of with you. I have miles to go. And I hope, God, I hope one day when I come visit this place, you'll be here with me, doodling random patterns across my hand. And we will realise our conclusion was true, all of the universe had conspired to get me to you. But if not, I hope the memories bring a tear in your eyes, *nevermore

Tick tock
the day passes too fast
but you never get rid
of the miseries of your past.

Tick tock,
you can feel time weighing you down,
it is forever flowing,
yet somehow you remain glued to a moment
long after, the moment has passed.

Abysses of time,
the hands keep moving,
but you're trapped inside the clock,
in a constant agony.

Tick tock
you feel time slipping,
like a dew drop rolls off the leaf,
like having to wave goodbye to a friend,
you wanted to go with

Tick tock,
the minutes have started to blur into one another
till I can't distinguish between days,
till time has started to show up in the  same dull shade.

Abysses of time,
the hands keep moving,
you wait for them to hang you up,
and show some mercy.

Will I ever make out of this city
Where nothing ever changes,
The extremes of weather
And all the stagnant minds,
have even influenced the birds,
To sing in the same tune,
To chirp without joy.

Will I ever make out of this city
Of unknown faces
Or will I lose myself
Trying to go against the crowd

Will I ever make out of this city
To a place where I can finally soar my wings
A place to rest my dreams,
A place where I can Just be?
Will I ever make out of this city to a place
where air is not filled
With suffocated dreams?


Will I ever make out of this city
Of unknown faces
Or will I lose myself
Trying to go against the crowd

will I ever make out of this city
where I was born but clearly,
never belonged

If you can't let go easily,
maybe you should be the one to have your bags ready;
packed with a spare ticket on you.

If you can't stop looking at the door that was closed,
maybe you should not have built one
and lived all your life in a home
with no doors and windows.

If the same wound of yours,
bleeds and bleeds,
and the pain never stops
maybe you should not have showed up the points
where you're most vulnerable.

if your skin is paper thin, keeping nothing out,
but never confining your lights in,
maybe you should not have befriended storms
people exhaling fumes.

If you delve in the emotions too deep,
and get high on how low you feel,
maybe you should not have been a poet at all.

If you never wanted to be a contradiction,
of hopeful eyes, tired smiles and an empty heart,
maybe you should have never been born as a human.

And I tried really hard
to change my ways,
to be softer,
but with you there is no grey region
either I'm flying too high,
or I'm crashing down
an abyss

and all I ever wanted,
was for you to hold my hand,
and willingly walk through
this road called life.

And I tried really hard
to stop chasing my expectations,
and settle down with my reality,
but with you, there is no consistency,
one day your eyes tell me,
you'll follow me to wherever I go,
and next day I'm sitting alone,
thinking where did I go wrong

and all I wanted
was for you to make me feel loved once in a while,
even though I always know,
you already love me.

and I tried really hard
to keep up with your pace
but all my improvements,
you never really acknowledged.
you pull me up in your embrace
and push me away in the next
carve a frown, turn it upside down,
to you, it is all just a game.

And for once, let us play a game
of who loves whom more
and i'd let you win happily
if you only tried

but you don't really care much,
maybe, tomorrow, I'll try again
when you show up with another version of you.

i don’t want to sit around all day
impatiently waiting for him to call
and when i finally hear his voice
i don’t want to feel like he’s
the air in my lungs i need to breathe
and when it’s time to say goodbye
i don’t want to fight over
who should hang up first

i’m not looking for someone
to make me feel whole,
because i already am
i’m not looking for someone
to save me because
i’ve already been saved

i don’t want to be holding
hands at the wrist so if (when)
he lets go, i’m still holding on

i don’t want in-between
fake promises from prince charming

i want diner breakfasts
at 3 in the morning and
long car rides with broken radios
and handwritten letters with
nothing scribbled out because
he doesn’t care about perfection,
he cares about being real

when it’s time,
i want to be in love
not in love
with feeling loved