We were playing truth and dare,
I chose the latter, which is rare.
They asked me if I have ever been kissed,
Well, that's one thing that I have missed.

How is this possible?
Their murmurs weren't subtle.
You are so beautiful
No guy ever asked you, they must be fool.

No no! They did.
I just wanted to get rid.

Oh Lord, then why?
Are you shy?

Oh! all these cute guys with pretty curls,
But my dream is to be kissed by a girl.

In some parallel universe.
Where blessings are curse.
Where doctor are called nurse.
You keep your kids in the purse.
You sit on the dogs and houses are guarded by horse.
Where the grains are powder and the flour is coarse.
Where the rain is burning hot and the bird roars.
The money is nothing and your right matters.
The guys are scared to go out in the night and the world is hers.

How painful is it to be a poet,
Who can't write.

A poet who has thoughts,
Terrible ones,
But can't express.

A poet with emotions.
But was never heartbroken.

A poet of a few words,
And even those are not the fascinating ones.

A poet who wants to, but can't rhyme.
A poet who wants to but cannot write.

{Like a Doctor Who Can't operate
But a doctor can also be a poet from the heart.}

A poet not so poetic.

A poet like me.

They tell me don't try too hard.
It all comes from within.
But how and when?
Because I am desperately waiting for the time to come,
When those words will flow out of the nib of my pen onto the paper/blank.
As smooth as a river going into the ocean.
Like a fine aged wine from the bottle.
Because it is too heavy,
To keep it all inside,
Troubling my mind and soul,
Like a thousand years old ghoul.
But it is all Stuck up,
jamming all my words.

HE never gave me those beautiful words.

I read, I read and I read a lot.
Hoping It would be able to turn into something like it. (into those words)

Like a poem.
A flawless poem which leaves you gasping for breath.

I want to become a poem.
I want to become a story,
Which makes you cry, itch and then leaves with an ache for more.

I wish I could use those brand pompous words.
The mesmerizing vocabulary,
Impeccable rhyme,
The exceptional emotion,
preposterous thoughts.

I don't complain.
I just want to be.
Why is it never enough just to be?

And if you have to choose between,
Being you or a poem:
What kind of poem would you be?

All these magnificent poets
And yet there I am.

Did I mention?
Poet of a few words.

Alas! Again
Words, Words,  Words,
I wish I had a way with them.

You were searching everywhere.
All in vain.

But didn't it strike you,




                                              How can you look for someone,
                                               who doesn't want to be found?

Now these fake laughs surround me like miseries
Asking why I am not smiling anymore.
If I am sick are there is any problem in my life.
How do I tell-
There was something hurting me, before
But you never bothered to know,
Because I was smiling all the time.
Became one of you.
That's all I was-
A ******* (Fake smile) curl of lips not reaching my eyes.
Getting paid for it.

Now that I am me.
You can't take it anymore.
Why?
Guess it's not what you wanted me to be.
It's not up to the standards of this beautiful society.

The society Where are never belong to.
Never wanted to be a part of.
And when I talk to people,
They don't like it either.
Then who decides that we have to be here.

Part of something which is huge,
But no one wants to be a part of.

{ Like each drop of the river is running to be a part of the ocean,
Because it doesn't want to be where it is,
Dreams about the ocean and how it would be a happy place.
Only to know the reality once it is there.
Then the Drop leaves all the hope and drowns itself in the surrounding water.}


But if everyone is forced
Why don't we just leave it?
Let's have our own societies
Owned by each of us.
With rules made by us
Our own.

Too rebellious - they say.
You are a part of this you can't go.
Where did I sign- when- I ask.
No answers.
Only Rules to follow.

I wanted to breathe- fresh air
They close all the windows.
And make me breathe the stink-
Of their bodies, my body
And tell me this is heaven,
To be blessed with all this beauty,
All these people around me-
Friends, Families, Relatives, Neighbors.

How do I tell-
Our heavens are different.
My heaven consists of me,
My melancholy and my sad soul.
Noooooooo - they cried.
No that's hell.
You can't go there.
You are too naive to know the difference.
We are here to guide you,
Help you know the better.
Really?
Then,
Where were you?
When I was feeling crushed,
By the weight of my fake happy soul,
Which wasn't mine,
But borrowed from you,
One of yours, fake souls,
Which also died of their own weight.
Pretending is heavy.
Very heavy.
Not for everyone.

Why didn't you come and help me?
When my soul was crying a river,
Teardrops of my blood, painful.
Cutting through all the way.
Wherever it fell.
Leaving a scar and a Burn.
As Black as my fake white painted black soul.

Did you see it? Did you?
No. You were busy putting the Angelic white on it whenever you saw it turning Grey, because of the real color it was holding.

You were happy with the outcome.
It was what you wanted.
What I was supposed to be.
I was expected to like it.
But how do I do that?
Especially when at the end of the day when I am on my bed.
And I try to take the skin off,
And remove the soul so it can take some rest.
But as soon as it is away from the fake smile- happy- peel of the skin.
It turns black- all jet black, within a nanosecond.

Then I try to cover it,
So that no one sees it.
And I can't sleep, because of the fear of getting caught.

You told me, I don't need to be afraid of anything
As long as I believed in HIM
But you taught me to be scared of you. Funny.
How it all works, if it pleases you.

I was screaming,
But you didn't ask me - What happened?
I wanted to be heard,
For once at least.
But I never said anything.
Because I am supposed to follow, no questions.

He said- you are sad,
Because I was upset.
Because you love me, care about me.
So I should be happy.
In order to keep YOU happy.
You do not understand - it's a big favor to ask for. Do you?
Take away someone's sorrow, - someone's genuine state of mind.
My gift from HIM.

I tried - I tried hard.
To do things the way you want.
Write happy stories.
Sing cheerful songs.
Keep that upward curl on my lips.
Putting on my red lipstick,
And my black high heels.
Walking as a Lady should.
Rhyming my poetry as far as I could.
Even if it took away the essence,
Just to please you.
To be a part of something I never really wanted to be a part of.
Only to lead to my Paranoia.
Which I got because of you.
Now Taking all my medicines
To keep all my thoughts away.
To please you once more.
Because my thoughts are what would destroy me( as per you)
Maybe it will destroy you.
Because I see that fear on your face.
Whereas I am not scared of destruction and death?
I yearn for them.
to lose everything I own,
Is my dream.
Which you tell me to be scared of.

Now I see that fear clearly on your face.
You taught me to be afraid of you.
Because in reality you were scared of me.
My dark thoughts.
My pure black innocent soul.
Just because I didn't fit your rules.



Now You can see me walk away from you, your people.
I am walking with my head up.
Broadening shoulders, confident.
A smile - not the fake one this time.
And my black soul along with me.
It is sad as usual.
But I have embraced it.
Because that's the way it was made to be.

Now you all watch me go
As I live a happy life with my sad soul.

The feeling,
The emptiness,
The feeling of emptiness.
My heart aches for some feelings.
It is so sick of the void.

I hurt the people I love,
to get a reaction from them.
Anger, hatred or pain,
So that I can get some of those too.

Sitting below the fiery a hot shower,
to feel the buns on my soft skin,
To get the warmth from the water and steam,
Which I don't get from the people anymore.

Walking on the street,
In tees, jeans and flip flops, when
It's snowing outside,
To feel the cold and chills through my bones.
To feel the sadness in the surrounding,
to feel something.
To know I am NOT dead.

Drinking my Guts down.
Telling people I love them.
Can't do that with my normal persona,
Missing people publicly.
Cry for them,
But then why I don't feel blissful,
even with them around.

Running behind my dreams, where I feel.
I feel it all -
Pain, smile, sorrow, and joy.
Not the blank.
Not to be the emotionless stone, I have become.

Sitting in my room alone,
Hoping to go out and meet some people,
Like or not like me.
In a party - with the glass in my hand.
Glass full up to the brim,
Trying to keep up with the fake grin.
In my mind, already killing myself and these people,
Millions of times.

Exploding and pacifying myself the millionth time,
In the past 2 hours
Is this normal?
To wish for death, when
life is perfect, everything is good.

You wanted to be here.
Now that you are,
Where are you planning to run away next?
Convincing myself,
No, that other place will be better.
You will be happier.
When you know you won't be,
Any more on this earth.
It's all the same.
It's not the same anymore.

Darling you have been blessed with melancholy.
It's a part of you.
How could you ever run away,
from something which is inside you.
Not in your body but in your soul.

You can try, always try.
Till the time you are tired of trying.
And then you cry and cry and cry some more, you can accept it, cry Cry it out, my love.
And now?
Now embrace it.
Like you would embrace-
The gift of Beauty, you always wanted.
When you always knew that-
Beauty comes with a price.

Now that you have embraced it.
You know it's you.
You don't try to pretend anymore.
No more fake laughs, pretentious smiles.

I am sad,
But I am content with my sadness.
The void, I was always trying to get rid of.
It was filled with sadness.
No, it doesn't ache for anything anymore.

I can be calm with:
The fiery exploding thoughts.
I am peaceful with the war in my mind.

Do I consider myself as Mature,
Now, That I have started to understand POETRY?

I miss the places I never been before.
I like the bands which haven't made yet.
I connect with the people I have never met.
I talk to people who are not there.
I can remember the incidents which never occurred.
I hear the noises which were never made.
l forgive people who never ask for apologies. I forgive them for the mistakes they never made.
I try to find the answers to the questions never asked.

I feel guilty about the mistakes I never did.
I fight for the wars which haven't started yet.
I yearn for the islands which haven't been discovered so far.
I worship idols who aren't perfect.
I follow the priest who doesn't preach.
I follow the preachings which haven't been taught yet.
I feel the emotions which haven't been named yet.

I miss the love I never had.

MESS



We train our minds to be at peace
So everything is positive, happy and at ease.

Mind as well likes this calm space
Where all our worries come to cease.

But have you ever given it one thought or less
Maybe, just maybe,
Our minds were supposed to be this terrible chaotic mess.