My sister is not my sister,
but a stranger of same skin.

It seems that our relation
is all but running thin.



My brother is not my brother,
but a man of unalike mind.

And his warmth and embrace
are things I cannot find.



I do not know the people
society claims are close.

The people society claims
are meant to know me most.



I wish I knew these people
but it cannot be true.

Because, siblings, my life
must be done without you.

Some call poetry the language of Love,
And a poet is one sweet mistress,
But I call it the language of Heart,
Of Mind, and Soul, and Distress.

It is not Love that drives a writer,
But the fear of Loss and Strife,
And with these bittersweet words I say,
One might fear a poet's life.

In the darkest depths of unimagined,
The imagined rises true,
And Love somehow, against all odds,
Strikes out of the blue.

People ask me why I smile
Why I stick right through it all
Why I walk another mile
Instead of slowing to a crawl

I look up to them and smile
A soft billow in the day
I whisper after a small while
“Because I don’t have much to say.”

They look down and smile too
And I know they understand
They know what I always knew
Why I smile secondhand.

So we go our separate ways
I wander and wait, versatile
For another soul to cross my days
To ask me why I smile.

In the right corner
You have a quiet ear
To listen to your woes
Don't talk, only hear

In the left corner
An opinion, so loud
Wishing to share
Words, deep and proud

The fight always ends
Only to restart
In three, two, one
Feelings depart

Reason is thrown out
It's all in the ring
Ear vs opinion
Where no one will win.

It's all for nothing
Just listen to their woes
Cry at midnight
When nobody knows

Sometimes I wonder if it's me you care about
Or my looks
My hair
My body
My waist
My chest
My eyes

You know not of my mind
Not of my talent
Not of my life
And not of my heart

So tell me
Sir
Why you think you own it

It's always

****
Cute
Gorgeous
Beautiful
Pretty
Adorable

And never

Sweet
Loving
Generous
Wise
Caring
Intelligent

It's always

What's your bra size?
What are you wearing?
Are you *****?

And never

What are your interests?
Tell me about yourself?
Who is your role model?

It's always
The trap I fall into

And never
The arms that welcome me

Three small words are a promise
But the words ‘I promise’, are more.
My heart leapt from my chest to my throat
And slowly withered and tore.

I chundered all my emotions
And retched up all my care,
But my fears never left me
While your distance left me bare.

You made a promise twice,
Words not two, or three, but five.
“I love you, I promise”, you promised,
Your language ate me alive.

I succumbed to your sweet song,
Your innocent, droplet eyes.
But little did I know then,
Your words were my demise.

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.