I hate the term
Tragically beautiful.
If you find something beautiful about my face
or me as a person,
Say it.
Just say it
Quit using that dumb term
it's as good as romanticising self harm and depression.
I will try to help you through your recovery
But I won't kiss your scars.
I will lose my mind when I realise that you are hurting yourself.
There is nothing Tragically beautiful about depressed humans
or humans who are just having a hard time.
If something about that human is tragically beautiful,
try making 'em happy.
Make 'em laugh.
See through them.
and you might find some *real beauty

Hush, woman don't you cry
I am the last person to whom you will say goodbye.
don't put too much thought in your last words
we are here to watch you burn.

I am a player of words.
I will be the the one to grab you by the neck first
but I might show sympathy on you
kick you in the shins and call you a fool.

My pen can do wonders
crush kingdoms, **** children, point out your blunders.
It takes a movement of my hand to change it all
fulfill your dreams, defy science's laws
I can make your lover infertile
make you an illegitimate child
send you to the most brutal fight
or present you with the Nobel prize.
I can make you a part of a dirt poor family
I can make you live your life without a tragedy.
I can make you an old hunchback
who has seen failure
I can make you the knight
in his shiny armour
I can push you off the cliff from which you hanged
or give you a nice pair of fangs.

Oh yes, I am nefarious.
write words which are a mystery or hilarious.
I would rule this place if I had asked for it first,
I am a player of words.

I have painted your world in different colours
cheered for you when you got the medal of valour
I killed your favourite character? Go figure!
I can make you turn into someone else at full moon
I can torture the ones who were your muse
I can build a world of my own
Not taken down by any force
The fire in my veins cannot be extinguished
I will present you with people between whom you cannot distinguish
I can bathe in the tears of my readers
Don't underestimate words
through your spine they can send shivers.



They see me as danger
to trouble, I am no stranger
there is no extent to my freedom
I am half angel, half demon
I have had my mind drift away to places
I have made friends with the one with scarred faces
danced on waves,  sang in deserts
all of this can't be done in reverse
I have killed you using shells
I often write to vent.
I often **** the things which you clenched.
I hold onto your soul and the boredom you munched
isn't all of this fun?
I could be queen if i asked for it first
the world calls me an introvert
and
The player of words

they never cried tears of happiness.
they write with sadness.

long lusted to write a work
of which
on the top of the screwtop
poem wine bottle
was writ
"Let"

I know, no denying,
better artistes
have done it,
so you counsel

let it be,

but can't,
no letting
go of what has
emboldened me,
taken hold of me,
the infinite possibilities of
Let

within me,
endless storage,
a room for you to
let

me keep safe keep quiet
whatever you need,
that stuff you don't want
but can't yet disown,
the ashamed,
the not ready to be released,
the best work not ready quite,
a fine tuning required,
even secrets most intimate

let
me be your safe keeper,
until you need a safecracker
to let what you need to
let
go,
go free when
the letting is good

let
let be your verb,
your object,
don't matter to me

let
us escape,
to a better place

let
us through,
pass onto level next

let
me,
rent me, use me, I am
property tangible

let
me contract you, let me a poem,
give me the work I've commissioned
and let it please

let
us know the truth, the truth of you

let!
me see you truly!
let!
us go together!
let!
us try it,
let us be an us!

let

all the lets in our blood boil,

let
us make a list and
let
it become the goodly best

and yes,

let
it be,
the end-let possibilities!