"Do you remember the time when we first met? I was wearing a guns and roses t-shirt and you were playing basketball with your friends? Remember how I was walking past the court and got hit by the ball, and you came running towards me, asking me if I was okay? Do you remember how shy you were when our hands touched for the first time? Your cheeks turned into the color of beetroot.
Do you remember how we became friends? I was new to the society in which you were the head? How scared I was when I had to sing for the audition round and you decided to sing along to my favorite song?
Remember how you asked me out? Took me by my hand and intensely gazed into my eyes, as Eric Clapton sang 'wonderful tonight' in the background? Remember how I started laughing and asked you to stop joking around. And then you just kissed me, to stop me from blabbering. I was stunned and shell shocked.
Remember when we got drunk after our first big fight? We said mean words and slept in separate rooms that night. Remember how I later knocked on your door to apologise? We drank the entire bottle of Jim Beam and got sloshed as we listened to Bob Dylan till the wee hours of the morning light.
Remember how it all began?"
I see no recognition in your eyes. I guess the amnesia didn't just take away your memories but it also took away everything that was mine.

I wonder where you got lost. You said that you'll be back soon. I look for you in every new face that I see. It's been more than a year and yet I cling onto some hope. I wish to catch a glimpse of your smile. But I see you no more.
Behind the shadows of my anxiety, I hide. Thinking what did I do so wrong that you decided to leave without saying a goodbye.
Did I overwhelm your soul? Was my love for you so heavy and *******? Did it suffocate your life? Made you feel like a prisoner trapped in the chains that I hold?
Or was it something else? Something that I cannot decipher, because when I fell in love with you, I thought we'll be bound forever.

Let me hurt you in a way that feels like love,
The way a flower feels the pain when it's petals are plucked.

I was a blank book. Within me, you wrote a beautiful love story.
Filled my pages with illustrative words and added a hint of mystery.
And then you stopped without finishing the end,
Turned me into a masterpiece, over which the lovers lament.

As an observer it all seems so easy to be a poet. They all assume that the only thing we require is a flair for rhyming and a set of words.
Yes, words; they come quite easily to us. Thanks to the uncountable nights that we stayed awake in hopes of breaking our hearts by reading and learning the phrases that cause a wave of torment in our souls. Those words really helped us to convey our pain when you left us all alone.
Weaving the words into a song of despair isn't as easy as you'd like to believe. The emotion that we start to feel. Initially,  it all comes to us as a dream. Then it turns into an epiphany and gradually it transforms into a invisible creature which squeezes the life out of us. And we bleed like ink on the piece of paper. We scribble your name in hopes to immortalize the moment forever.
And yet.. as a reader you say that it's easy to be a writer.

You're special. All my life I considered myself to be a multicolored iridescent stroke of art in this world of pastels shades and fine lines. I knew right from the start that I wasn't a masterpiece presented by Picasso or Kahlo. I was a pretty splotch of sunny hues and velvety blues cleverly spilled over the black canvas.
To find me beautiful, it required a keen eye that was ready to overlook the dainty presentation of the works of Van Gogh. There exists a story of pain and insanity behind each work of his creativity. I am and will always be the scribbled I ink across the sheet. There is a piece of poetry within me, for the person who is patient enough to look through my messy facade. And to pick up the pen and write a sonnet across my heart.
Even with the multicolored spots I bleed the words of love and loss. The two most basic emotions that are often left unexplored.
My soul hummed the old school love songs that no one could ever recognize. Until the day I met you. Even in a room full of exquisite wonders you chose me. You whispered the lyrics to my favorite song and left me spellbound. With a lopsided smile you held out your hand and asked me for a dance, without any conscious effort I floated and there I was; held securely in the arms of the man who owns my heart.

Sometimes the demon doesn't lurk underneath the bed.
Sometimes the demon doesn't live in your head.
Sometimes the demon takes a human form,
He lives inside your house
And makes you believe,
In things that can **** your dreams,
He feeds you nightmares which are sickly sweet.
He the sort of devil no one talks about,
He gifts you a sword to fight
And then chops off your arms,
He tells you run and hide in fear.
Takes away everything that you hold dear.
He's a demon who plays with your mind,
He learns your secrets and destroys your pride.
He's a narcissist with a heart that pumps black blood.
Pushes you around and then pulls you into the mud
He's a human who lacks humanity
And always treats you like a dummy.

Do you remember how he once taught you to fly and then clipped off your wings?
Broke your favorite toy because it could sing?
Do you remember how you once failed?
And how he made you cry, Locked you in the room with no light?

Yes, there are demons that live in your heart and mind. There demons that keep you awake all night. But don't be so naive; there are demons inside your house waiting for you to fall so that they can pounce.