Sometimes I read my poems back
And I try to relive the pain. The emotions. The heartbreak.
Everything I felt when pouring my heart out on my screen.
A screen that knows no judgement. Takes no sides. Has no relation. Seeks no attention. Has no ulterior motive.
But I never succeed.
The way I felt when writing those pieces are locked in the words I typed.
Sealed with the  tears that ran down my cheeks.
Never to be felt again. By anyone.
Especially the one that made it in the first place.
Me.

Let them feel what you feel when it seems they are never feeling it

That moment when  they show you exactly what your feelings was trying to make you feel

Is the moment you need to realize how loud their actions were not speaking.

Naa.
New year, better me.
New year, new goals.
New year, no negativity.
New year, more growth.
“New year, new me.”
Naa.
New year, new Y O U.

Overflowing  vessel
Jack of many trades
Lover to the unlovable.
Virtuous.
Who had and has
Who does and continues to do
Who learns and teaches
Selfless.
Gives more than required
Expects nothing in return.
Materfamilias  to many
None to “its” own.
Yearning.
Deserving.
Grateful.