The sand in the hourglass falls with a consuming force
A smell of fear lingering in the air
Your frozen gaze urging it to slow down
Yet it has a life of its own
A course that must be fulfilled
You stared hopelessly as a thousand grains
Fell without permission
Until you willed what was about to come
Until you missed home
Until the last of the tiny grains fell
And took you with it
Following like a wilted flower that craved the sun
Your laughter, Your youth.
How unique you were.
I'm never going to meet anybody like you again and I'm sure of it.
Everybody else is a dime a dozen, but you..
you were astounding. Anybody who dared looked your way struggled to maintain direct eye contact for more than a few seconds. You were the essence of wild and free and I wish I could see you grow older with all of your friends. I miss you. I love you. I am screaming into the void for you.
For the Soul I have hungered
For the Words I left unspoken
For the Tears I have not shed
For the Promises I made to be broken
For the Song I have not sung
For the Book I did not read
For the Gift I have not shared
For the Heart I left to bleed
For the Memories I have forgotten
For the Truth I have not told
For the Freedom I held captive
For the Feelings I let grow cold
For the Battles I have not won
For the Lies I have deceived
For the Love I took for granted
For the Life I have not lived
And to my Self, I’m sorry
For not seeing these through
This pain I have to carry
Because I have lost you
I am reclaiming my dignity,
with every word
I hold between clenched teeth.
I don't want to talk
about anything anymore.
I don't see the point.
If I speak about the secrets,
I've locked behind doors,
It would shock,
and shake anyone to the floor.
It's easier for me to store,
these secrets in my core.
I can keep them safe there,
and keep my dignity warm.
Place a battered hand on my innocence,
It's been 5 years but a scar never leaves,
A closed mouth pleads the best for help.
All my life I've been speechless only because when
I lift up my shirt and I can still see your handprint
I still face what is the false indication of love, never got a hug but a hard closed fist.
All because of my innocence.
Sometimes I'm fine
Sometimes i just whine
I feel like a failure
Like everything I do is wrong
My life like an annoying bong
All I do is clash
Everything I touch comes to crash
I always mess up
And then I fess up
To make amends
But still I fail there too
I fail most when dealing with you
No particular you
Just with all people I do
And yet even still
I'll try to follow your will
Because you love me
Even though I'm a failure
You love me still
We all are so confused
we all are unpredictable beings
we want to die , when we are healthy
we want to get rid of pain , when we become sick
we want name and fame , when nobody knows us
when our name is on every door step , we wanna hide like peacocks
we are so confused or we are becoming in this society
where doing suicide is easy , while living is hard
we become prone to nag , instead of showing gratitude
we follow blindly , instead of leading own
then we complain again and again
we all are confuse
at the same time we want money , love , friends , power
but the other day we want our solidarity back
what we want is possible
but our wants become infinite
that we cannot even distinguish it from our actual needs
we being become flooded with lusts , insted of love
we surprise each other not by being good or kind but by being evil and wicked
we are lost or loosing
but one thing is certain we are not in right pattern
On a right way
coz we become so confused with overwhelming choices we got
we become what not we want to
what society told us to be
I was a new paintbrush.
In the beginning, there was so much potential in his promises.
He was to create alluring artwork from my bristles,
vowing beautiful blues and pleasant pinks would tickle me
and yet the memories of baneful, bitter blacks darken my mind.
When artwork went wrong, I was to blame,
slammed against the wall and used to stab canvases,
he took his anger out on me.
He splintered me and broke me,
yet I am still held accountable for his wrongful accusations.
My only hope was that he would clean up his chaotic mess
but my bristles are stiff and stained with snapshots of
his haphazard hand wrapped around my neck.
I am a used paintbrush.
I will come to you naked,
exposing full depths, roses and orchids,
the brighter corners of my heart,
the soft glow of my soul.
I will love you and us, even myself,
as we fall into our arms and dance
in the light that grew out of the rain
and rose from the ruins of our yesterdays.
What will you do? Will you shed your
armored skin, tumble your walls, open
your battered heart, will you want me
more than safety and your comfortable
routines? Will you find your lost heart
and open it for me?