Darling,
there are a few things that I often wonder,
distracting me from my daily schedule,
confusing me with each question about you, that I stumble.
I want to know *all about you,
is that something you could render?

How could somebody so precious,
be so broken?
Somebody so sincere,
feel so much pain?
Somebody so innocent,
be left so heartbroken?
Who in their right mind would do something so horrendous to somebody,
who has been in so much vain?

You draw,
and I love it,
but why does your drawing only limit itself to your flesh?
Why does your inner self feel so scared to be expressed?
Why don't you give a chance?

You know that my gentle touch to your soul will be caressing.

I love you
and I could never say these things to you,
but loving you has been a pleasure.
Will always be the best feeling to me.
I could trade the whole world,
and still choose you over.
If
and only if,
you'd give me a chance.

Oh darling,
try giving me a chance?
You would be the happiest man at glance.
I would love you like I do today,  
tomorrow,
and till time ends,
Be your constant till your last breath.

We wouldn't be complicated,
I wouldn't be anything like your past.
I would give you everything that you really deserve,
love you with all that I have,
only because I want to be your last.

Darling,
we would be the power couple,
the ones who grow together,
all you have to do,
is let me in,
and
just give me a chance.

Try me, my darling.
'Being the matutine, and the night isn't that hard,
we could still interlace'
and maybe,
just maybe,
be seen together,
happily on the card?

                   ~kc
                     16.2.17
                     1:37AM.

The viens in your hands,
artistically inching towards the pattern inside your human body,
the elongation of each tip,
adjoining the vast bed of perfectly shaped standing rectangles.
Your fingers speak of you,
the art that you create,
the story that you sketch.
Each vein walks in five different directions,
all beginning from the start,
where they collide,
irrespective of their aim.
The sculpted valleys in between each length,
portraying just how much life your hands hold.
Aesthetically beautiful hands you have,
don't let just anybody hold them,
for they hold the emotions that you hide,
each vein striding towards humans,
ready to connect,
explore,
discover.

                  ~kc
                   23.12.16
                   6:15 PM.

You could come to me years later,
and I would still care for you,
just like I do today,
because that's just how much I love you.

                  ~kc
                    12.12.16

You're taking all my firsts, away.
Maybe you do it on purpose.
Maybe you know how less exposed I am.
Or maybe you just do it for your ego.
Such kind words, polite mannerism.
Why do you pretend to be interested?
I know you have her.
You know you have her.
Why do you care?
Or should I say, act like you care?
I never wanted to be friends.
You had two options,
either to become mine, or cut all contact.
Then, where did this whole 'Friendship' thing come from?
Maybe..I should stop looking at your zodiac sign now.
It's not like we talk everyday.
But..maybe when I see a post, which reminds me of you,
you see the same post, and think about me?
Why did you have to be in touch, while having her,
when all I wanted was to stay away from you.
What am I to you?
You have so many friends, am I one of them?
Something more?
Or do I own a special place in your already taken heart?
Please be clear,
because I'm just tired of being happy for you and someone who isn't me.

                   ~kc
                     7.8.16

Strong, very strong.
Said her mind.
While, her heart?
It suggested her to cry.
Pain, pressure, all mere things in front of her,
As she cried, over the memories of past hints.
                 ~kc,
             lost memories.
             7.4.16

Smiling pictures,
happy days.
What did happen?
She wondered.
Months of glory,
memory days,
first hugs and
scenes replayed.
Summer ending, her smiles fade.
Slowly, the world getting crumpled by tick tock weights.
Disasters, she falls into.
Blocking beings, she stays alone at night,
wondering, what went wrong?
Storms, her mind forms.
Liquid through her insight,
shapes on the pillow cover,
as she tries to hide her feelings in the blanket's night.
What did happen,
she wondered.
Insecure, her self gets.
Tongue tied, the mind speaks.
She thinks a lot now, and lets her mouth rest.
Alone, her heart feels.
Worst days, that make up her mind.  
And yet one thing that she keeps wondering,
is how did everything go this blind?
    
             ~kc
               7.7.16

You should have seen the way she looked at you.
She looked at you with a glint in her eyes.
A hope.
Of stirring something deep in your rough skin.

You should have seen her talking about you.
It was red cheeks and glossy eyes.
Like she adored you and nobody else.
Precious was the word she used to describe you with,
as if it were a synonym for your name.
She talked about you like she talked about her favorite thing in the universe.
Which, by the way,
you wouldn't know what is.
Because you didn't care.

She found little gestures of yours comforting,
fooling herself that it was what you did only for her,
when in reality,
it was what you did for all eight hundred of your other female friends.

She thought you were being there for her,
that she was different,
that she could change a wolf like you.
Boy, was she wrong.
Oh, the poor thing was so wrong.

She talked about you all day,
praying for your health,
keeping herself happy by just seeing you content.

But you?
You let her slip.
You let her think, she's just like all of your other chicks.
You were a coward.

You were afraid of committing to her,
to tell her how you feel,
because if you did,
it would end up just like your last.

Even then,
you craved her voice.
You loved her song,
but you told her you liked it,
because you were a coward.
Even then,
you asked her what's wrong,
you knew she wasn't okay.
But you didn't ask her more,
because you were a coward.

You were so dense to notice what you were letting slip by,
just like the sand you were holding.
She was falling,
there was no time.
And you did nothing to stop her.

You were too much of a coward to tell her you loved her back.
And trust me,
she would have cried.
She would've wept because she loved you with everything she had in her.

She masked it in mock friendship,
but deep down you had broken her for anybody else.

You should've seen the way she had suffered,
seeing you all over girls because you were now single.

You should have seen the way she tried so hard to detach herself from you.

You should have seen how she was never investing into anybody ever again.

You should have seen,
because if you would have,
just once,
you woudn't have let her go.
She was the one,
but you didn't pay attention.
She hoped that you listened,
but you didn't.

You should have seen the way her eyes still lit up,
while talking to or about you,
after all the pain you made her go through,
she was still holding onto you.
But you?
You were a coward.
No matter how hard you denied it,
you didn't deserve her.
And she?
She thought she was the one who didn't deserve you.

          ~kc
            25.5.17
            2:07 AM.

Their love was like sparkle,
Enclosed in a strong glass jar,
With straps tied around it's head,
To have it saved and delicately spared.
Their eyes empowering the deepest flecks of care,
A gaze so tight, no force could interrept.
Their bodies together, were artistic,
Picturesque and parallel.
They breathed, to inhale the scent of each other's existence.
Their hands intertwining, agonizingly slow,
Feeling the lines and contours of their palms.
They didn't speak much,
A similarity in the flow of thoughts got their minds aquainted.
Their love was like paint.
Colorful,
Always ready to trace towards the dry canvas and fill the blankness.
They didn't love to show,
Their love was the only thing that resonated through their hearts.
Heartwarming, young and inseparable,
Their love was like the smell of books, whether old or new,
But always soothing.
Their love was what true love is drawn of.

               ~kc
                4.1.16

All those people,
          I used to run after,
                  are now running after me.
              
Oh, look how the tables have turned,
         I don't even recognise the faces
             of these people,
                 who are today admiring me*.

                             ~kc
                             12:45AM.