They wrote each other little notes all day long
It was their life line, it got them through the day strong
They wrote all the random things that they could possibly think
But the notes seemed short cause they read it in a blink
From chronicles of peaches and jelly
To the things that shouldn't even be silly
Some were really deep and meaningful Some were just so stupid that they became beautiful
Raiding each other's rough notes or diary was a daily thing that they did
These notes were their greatest treasure, to find these, to the ends of the earth you must dig
This whole thing is just something really simple but to them it was beyond special
It was like their little drug of happiness that occasionally made them mental
Not realizing how time got away quickly they now just read back the little notes they wrote to each other
Maybe the universe would be kind enough to let them write these once again as life moves further.

In that pond
Which housed
A thousand fishes
Of gold
And a single
One as dark
As the depthless seas
I went to fish.
Eyes fixed
After the prize
Of one unique.
And in the try
To bag the gold
(Here, the boa)
I let go
Of a hundred
Actual gold.

//I chased after a single utopian idea, a goal, and never appreciated the other opportunities that were given. //

Today
when I was standing under the sun
to get on a bus
that would take me to my
tuition centre,
I saw a pigeon
with a broken leg
across the road
trying to cross it.
All of a sudden
an old man stopped
his vehicle to watch the pigeon.
The pigeon, in its attempt,
almost got crushed
under a bike's wheel.
This man gets down
from his vehicle and
tries to catch the pigeon.
It flies away from him,
painstakingly;
it would be better off on its own.
The man refused to give up.
He crossed the road along with it,
cooed to calm the pigeon down,
and lifted it tenderly
with both his arms
and took it home,
to care for it.
Maybe there's humanity still left,
in small acts of kindness,
but I don't think
this pigeon will be
remembered by anyone.

An irony of people
Pushing forth, unseeing
Past me,
Past my worth
And I just stood there,
Static, unmoving,
An anchor
To those passing by
Stamped
Under their ugly shoes.

Inadvertently chasing dreams
Failing plans
To lead the way.

If I were to
Spew a poem
From the depths of my mind
Within seconds
I'm afraid of the words
Lurking beneath the surface
Those which I've managed to lock
Would pounce
Upon the first chance of release.
Maybe that's why
I write about them
Rather than what they are.
And so, I ask,
To be or not to be:
A walking contradiction.

Find me,
A bumblebee,
Made not for flight,
Soar.

Tiny bubbles of soap
Held fragile
by the molecules
of my existence
In moist, soapy
Fingers shielding
Against a gentle
Breeze that might
Disrupt the perfect
Harmony of atoms
Vibrations, of an
Intangible soul
Protected- to perversely
Selfish reasons- for
Who will shelter my heart
If not myself?

It lay like new
Incongruous among the garbage
A streak of the brightest pink
In the middle of rotting masses
A bear
Dearly gifted
Yet thrown away
Within meagre minutes
In the journey
Maybe a fight broke out
On a jealous agony
And hurled that inanimate animal
Into the worst place they could find
Maybe it was a quarrel
Or maybe it was just too heavy to carry
Or a secret to be hidden
From even the closest of family
A gift of forbidden love
Even maybe
A child's error
Snatched away from its hands
The giant of a mound
I can only guess
Yet it lay so
Barren
Unwanted
Even while brand new.

Would you still beleive
If I told you of a time
Where we could still talk
Without being stabbed
In the heart
With surprise
At how much love
We could give
At how much we could bend
Without breaking?

I wish
You wrote me letters
Under the moonlight
And signed with a couplet
And petals of rose
Dried and pressed
Between the pages of your favourite book
And an endearment
To call me by
A secret
Ours alone.

How easy would it be
To change things
To your will
And make things alright-
Yet these easiest things
Are rarely attained.

Is it worth it
Growing tall
Only to be felled?

With nothing but hands
To hold each other strong
Against a havoc
Wind of life
The grip slipping
Only to tighten back again
A promise
In the heart
We are miles apart
And miles within
Together in an unbreakable way
Fabled words
Hold no meaning
Against an unspoken message
Of a bond
Etched in gold
The simplest worn thread
Holding itself upright
As we do
Against the howling phantoms
Of the past
And of the future
We brace ourselves
Together
And we set out
To beat fate.

To write
Or to not.
A melody unsung
Still resides,
Where it should,
In a pocket
Of my soul.

The
Purpose of
Everything that is
Seems fragile compared to
You.

"Be a better person," you said
"Get out of it"
Don't you see I can't?
"This is all your fault"
"The demons you've made up
Don't even exist!"
But you've not met them.
"You have everything you'll ever need,
Everything you want"
Then why do you smile
At my helplessness?
"You've changed!"
" I don't like you anymore"
So to suit you,
I've improved my ways
There are better things
Better methods to cause pain
Apart from that knife you took away
And that blade
And that clip
And that scissor
Without evidence
Without scars
" It's all in your brain"
Rotting from within
You're right.
Bit by bit by bit
Until all of me is consumed
Bit by bit by bit
Until it's too late.

Torn between worries
Of an uncertain future
And past regrets
Chaos reigning
And a fear of the present
Taunting, tantalising
Away my mind from what's present
And so I create
Murals to
Make sense of my world.

There are times when things don't go the way you want them to. There are times when things happen exactly as you wanted them to, but they didn't turn out that great. And there are those rare wonderful days, the ones you try so hard to never let go.
I've maybe said this a lot but with each person comes a different perspective. Hell, it might not suit you, might get you into misunderstandings and fights and the like, but when you're ready to hear and understand, maybe the other side too had a few patches of rot among the green grass.
I come attached with all my flaws and insecurities, those that make me toss and turn in my sleep when I most needed it, those that made me sleep for years on end, deceiving myself. But just as a smudge on an intricate painting, maybe we can hide our mistakes too. Or, show them to the world with so much pride and confidence, that your scars no longer define you, but your being does.
These few years have taught me many things. Yes, I have way too much to learn, too many things left to experience, but I am who I am because of the people around me.
But I don't imply everyone you meet turns out hiding a knife behind their backs to stab you in yours, but they're all lessons.
As in a book, you have chapters, and though you might want some to stretch on until forever, though you may want some things torn off of the book, and a few more even buried deep beneath the brown or burnt until unrecognisable, what happens has to happen, and trust me, things might just turn out to be pretty great for you. Watch, listen and learn from the things around you.
There are lessons and there are fairytale endings, there are chapters long and short, and there are too many genres than you can count. Here's what I have learnt, and here's what I have to say. To you, reading this, things will be okay. I'm here for you.
And so are these very lessons, to mould you into the beautiful being that you are, no matter the blemishes.
Maybe this story, these events do not completely belong to me. They're every bit yours, and may everything turn into an adventure!
So here I am, to bare my soul, and narrate the story of hurt, hope and healing <3

Maybe we just need something to lean over,
Something to support us.
With loathing contempt,
The needy gravitate towards each other,
All the while
Wanting to be
The kings of their realm.

Under "it's okay" and "everything will be alright
I'm swallowed up
Giving false hopes
And motivations
That they drone on and on
The machine
Slowly corroding
Under an influence of dripping Maws
Of the unselfish mob
Imposing their rules-
It's anyways unite and rule, right?-
There's nothing left
But empty words
Labeled positive motivation
To make the cliché sound much more worse
False accusations aside
It festers within
Crushing out the zeal
To stick to your integrity
And speak
For the faceless masses
Telling them that they will be alright
If they could follow
All the rules set up
An example for the ideal human
And please the crowd.