I listen to these songs
one after the other
playing on my playlist
But each of these songs
hold tags of memories
The memories I live everyday through them
Well, there is a memory of a boy
Not a man
whom I liked
Not loved
And that one song looks like him
The song I played
As I passed through those corridors
to get a glimpse of him
But here I am humming ' Heather '
As I see his girl
laughing by his side
I never imagined myself at 'her' place
But he looked beautiful from a distance
It gave that restless heart a kiss
It felt good...
So now I don't look at the boy I liked
But his lover
What 'she' wears
How 'she' talks
Her demeanor, that attracted him
I am not jealous
But 'she' makes me curious
And I feel like learning about 'her'
Turns out, Khaab was better than her
But still not in 'her' place...
I can't get jealous
I never had that right
Because I liked him
from a distance
He is not my moon
But he looked charming
'She' loves him
And sees his flaws
They love each other everyday...
And that can not be me
As loving is tiring
I do not love everyday
But I do hate this flesh everyday
How could I be 'her'?
When I don't love myself

And I get back to those songs
Where I feel like the protagonist
The unloved one
The one, some call ' The villain'.

I don't know what I am these days...
I lay in the dark room these evenings...
Trying to understand...
If it's the rain outside...
or the sound of my dream...?
But I know one thing...
I saw last night in the mirror...
There is a mask I wear...
There is a secret I hide....
But for how long?
For how long...will they stay in a mirage?
Will they care, once they know about it?
I don't know....
Or will I become a genius at hiding?
And this secret will burn away with me...
These days I tell myself...
That may be I am not an ocean
but a puddle on the street...
I am in a maze...trying to find
the purpose of this life...
It is annoying...
Why can't I go with the flow?
Why are these thoughts questioning everything?
These days I am living more through the dreams
Like walking around that empty library...
with wooden tables and shelves...
And listening to that unknown Korean song...
Hearing voices and not moving
as I sleep in the dream...
It has been weird lately...

Is there a meaning behind everything?
Or am I just squandered?

I realised death comes with a fear of regrets...
A pressure to live that one life to the fullest is always there...
But what if I tell you...I will not die once...
I have died and will die many times...
There are funerals I have attended...I will attend...
And being my devoted lover...
I have fulfilled the rituals...
Either it was burning myself to ashes...
or burying myself in the coffin
I have always bid a happy goodbye...
But tears had fallen like rain...
The moment I found myself dead in the mid of love...
The love for myself which shone brighter than the sun...
I felt like a dead body...laying at the gas station...
It felt like I betrayed myself...
But to my surprise...even after turning to ashes
Or locking the dead safe in the coffin...
They couldn't contain the shadow...
My psyche changed over the years...
And may be will change in the coming years
Even today, when I walk under the moonlight...
during the dark times...with a whole new psyche...
The shadow is still the same...
the one I was born with...
Everytime a new soul, with an old shadow...
There is an immense truth a shadow holds.

I remember being surrounded by those kids...
who had that shine of future in their eyes...
The eyes which looked like leaves holding raindrops...
They had a vibe of progress...
Their words had some unrealistic terms...
I never understood...and may be I still do not...
I remember how hard I tried to fit in...
among those futuristic kids...
But how could I?
When my eyes always carried a flame of past in them...
The past I would never want to leave behind...
There is always something in that basket...
It holds for me...something new...
I never think about me growing old...
I think the world would end by then...
But this past...
feels like that lost treasure in sand...
The mysteries of life have been solved...
at the stations of past...
where answers have waited for me...
to pick them up...
I have a past...a precious past...
There is something I can never leave behind.

Please be kind to me...
I am learning...
learning to suffocate the voice of my feelings...
I am learning ******* them slowly and steadily...
I had dug the first grave last night...
And today morning...I put them in the coffin...
My eyes were empty...as tears laughed at me...
I was told," expectations hurt..."
But why does it feel like this everytime?
I am there...always there...
prepared with my shoulders...
the shoulders, whom I have been teaching
that they are here just for others...
The shoulders I am trying to make stronger
with each coming day...
I want them to be so firm...
that no matter how heavy the head is...
they don't break down...
Then, where did I go wrong?
May be it's my tounge...who is to be blamed...
The words laying on it...may be hurt them...
But why can't they...for once...
understand the intentions of my soul
A soul which not tired...living behind this bark skeleton
This is where it is...
How can I even expect this ?
May be...I am the one to blame...
So...Please be kind to me
Because I am still learning...
learning to make the grounds of heart fertile...
Because a forest holding secrets is supposed
to grow there in the future.

It feels like a fire is set inside me...
The dead and dry leaves...
I collected last autumn...
Have been put on fire this winter...
A fire that burns higher and higher.
The sun is gone...and took the rainbows along with it...
It seems like a dark long night...inside...
The smoke has reached the throat...
making me choke on my own words...
My soul roams around...
finding her way back home...
The stars are nowhere to be seen...
And the moon can't fight the dark.
The fire which was meant to give warmth...
is burning my green forests...
The mouth which liberated rainbows...
is puking smoke this winter.
Everything is burning down to ashes...
And the winds cannot find the rain...
But the place has been hidden well...
with the high walls of bright smiles...
And the eyes have turned into oceans...
holding the tears so well...
The time will rule the fate...
Either the ashes will rise...
with the birth of a phoenix
Or the place will turn into a garden of remembrance
filled with fragrance of verses alike white lilies,
A poetry mourning  every grave.

I met a man like moonflower...
The air was filled with his vintage aroma
But the petals bloomed fresh....
I looked at him in an awe.
As I had a history of meeting sunflowers...
I told him with a smile...
I had never seen one like him before.
There were questions in my head for his town's soil
With some painful happiness in his eyes...
A satisfaction in his heart...
and a smile on his lips...
He said," We grew like wild vines...
My gardener forgot my location..."
Through his hazel eyes...I saw his seed soul...
standing all strong...
"How you turned out so well then?"
I asked him.
"I didn't have the sun, but the moon
never left me alone..."

The wind had begun to whisper...
As I saw his white petals bloom
under the moonlight.