Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Sehar Bajwa Sep 2020
the colour of betrayal far outshines Vantablack
its depth is a cumulus cloud of chaos and agony
tinged with the wails of a wilting wallflower
bloodied scarlet, a glimmer of unrequited love
purple promises writ into skin, bruised and broken
Sehar Bajwa Sep 2020
his voice, honey-coated ballads

his frame; a haiku
three lines and one more
do people like this exist?
  May 2020 Sehar Bajwa
John Destalo
the snake does
not love

what it squeezes

the bear does
not love

what it hugs

the man does
not love

what he possesses
I picked a rose bud for you ,
I found it on a rose bed ,
it is not dead .
But  if you water it ,
and give it room to grow ,
it will blosom into something you don’t know .
For its buds will one day open ,
perhaps when you are curled up in bed ,
and you will think of me when I have gone ,
and all the things I said .
Sehar Bajwa May 2020
I'm lonely. I admit it. I'm tired of sending viral posts to my 'friends' hoping for a genuine conversation. It's been ages since I heard "how are you". I'm beginning to think you guys don't care. it hurts even more that I know you don't.

replying to my messages is not a conversation, specifically not in a group chat.

I wonder what they're all so busy doing anyway, to forget the existence of someone they share lunch, stationery and moments with.

I know what you will say, mom, that its alright, no big deal. "you'll find your real friends in college anyway". but everybody needs a friend.
or two.
Or three.
I know I do.
i dont want your sympathy.
Next page