i.

i used to only write sad poems.

ii.

you see,
i am a cynic,
a cemetery,
a holocaust,
a chaotic, distant, lost girl
buried in her own
self-destruction.

but with you
i am different.

i want to wake up,
keep my promises,
make up for lost time,
spill blood and ink,
try again,
live

for you.

iii.

you walk me home
and the skies blush
pink cloud summers
mid-December.

we part and i marvel
at the sepia tint
of backyard roses
blurring my lenses.

you came in
like the missing palette color
i never knew
i needed
my skies painted with.

iv.

now, you are all the love poems
i didn't know i could write.

and every metaphor i create
is just a lengthier version of
'i love you'

i really do.

You have red, blue, and white pills on your hand
Drink it up and make it stop
All the pains in your heart.
But, you are better than that.
Better than the people who called your body.
Better than the people who called you ugly.
Cause you are wanted.

You have knife on your hand,
Ready to cut your wrists
Bleed out all those aches and worries.
But, you are better than that.
Better than your problems.
Better than your miseries.
Cause you are important.

You have rope on your hand,
Lace it around your neck
Drown your mind, drown your demons.
But, you are better than that.
Better than your ugly thoughts.
Better than the voices in your head.
Cause you are not alone.

And you did the best for staying alive.

Dreaming
With eyes wide
Open

Is the same
As running
Blind

A risk
Worth taking
Instead

Of the chocking
Confinements
Of this

God
****
Cage

Morning has broken
but she has not
it had been a long night
sinister fraught
the stars were cut
in lacerations of lace
          stains of tears
                      mark trails
                   on her face
mascara in circles
mocking panda eyes
multiple moments
of almost self-demise
wrists bound to
          sadness, heart
trussed to trust
pain from crumbling
illusions, plus
that constant,
          searing lust
Now, on the floor,
lying face down
in what seemed
              like blood,
she starts to
                 move around,
as realization pours over
in a thick, viscous flood:
She can move her arms;
for they were not
                really bound
That gag in her mouth?
it has dissolved into sound
The sound of her voice
as she gets up
        from the floor
opens the window
bringing light
            to the fore
guttural noises
escape deep
                 from her throat
and before she
knows it, the
room starts to float
furniture circling
as the energy takes
        and she lets in the air
             fresh as new fate
her cuts balmed over
         winds whipping up her hair
marks from taut ropes
smoothing over to bare
and the light bursts in
          in a blast, in a whoosh
like bursts of starlight
cutting in with a push
they seep into shadows
pulsing over the dark
the howling rescinds
          in an explosion of sparks
blocks of pain that held
her chained
are knocked over
and the lightstorm
                keeps coming
her inner percussion
just doesn't stop drumming
      And as she flies through that window
and unhinges the door
            from its frame
freedom
            is now hers
            forever to claim

You deliver torrents of happiness and comfort in my darkest times
And it pains me to know that I can’t do the same for you.
So badly, I want to embrace you;
Not just physically,
But your emotions:
I want to mend them
Fragment by fragment
To perfection.
Till you forget what it feels like to be unhappy.
And you experience only love.

Even though I’d love you to the best of my ability,
I know that it’d never be enough:
You deserve far more than I can give -
But I’d love you with every cell in my body
Ever fiber and nerve ending
Every breath and every syllable of every word I ever spoke.
I’d give you my all.


And I want nothing more than to see you
To memorize your every feature,
To touch and experience you in ways that you or I have never known.
Because you are so wondrous, that I can’t help but want to discover your entirety.

Even the nights are colder and longer since you aren’t here.
And the hours of two, three and four in the morning are no longer my favourite,
Because hearing you breathe before you descend into sleep makes my heart so uneasy
In a way that only you can.
My heart- have I told you about it?
How it takes off and functions irrespective of my body?
The way it soars and keeps climbing and speeding to rapidity that I’d not imagined?
Or perhaps how my breathing becomes irrational and irregular at the sound of those words you whisper
Uneasy.
Because in those moments I want you.
And it makes me feel like telling you:
“Pick me up right now and let’s drive till nowhere”
And have you kiss away the scars on my hips
Just as you would the ones on my wrists and my heart
But only after I mend you.

Do you see how much I want this?
How much I want to become familiar with your actions:
The way your thumb brushes across my cheek on your way to kiss me
The way your fingers trace patterns on my skin
Or simply the way you smile and laugh


I’m so alone without you.
But so in love.