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Deep Sangani Apr 13
I cannot dress up my truths
in designer clothes
that'll grab your attention
and invite a closer look

I cannot apply even a little concealer
or blush to its cheeks
or add colour to its lips
I will not conceal any of it
not its blemishes and scars
not the pimples and acne
the most revealing bits

truth's a tomboy anyway
Changes
Deep Sangani Apr 13
You always complained to me
How I never held your hand tight enough.

My mother once told me,
That like the warm sand
On the summer beach,
The harder you hold onto something,
The faster it slips from your fist.

And maybe that’s why
When your hand
was in mine
I would never close my fingers.
To Z, who gave me light when there wasn't any.
Deep Sangani Aug 2019
You always complained to me
How I never held your hand tight enough.

My mother once told me,
That like the warm sand
On the summer beach,
The harder you hold onto something,
The faster it slips from your fist.

And maybe that’s why
When your hand
was in mine
I would never close my fingers.
I love you
Deep Sangani Feb 2019
Hi there!

I've decided to go on a break from posting poems. However, I won't stop writing poetry. I'm working on a project of making a collection of my poems by the end of the year, and this break will help me do so. Thank you for all the support you all have continued to show me, i am ever so grateful. I'll be back soon (hopefully).

Till then,
thank you,
and goodbye.
Thank you so much. This is a healthy break, in case you might be wondering otherwise. Sometimes people don't get equal amounts of love on every poem, and that is absolute fine. However, that has affected me in unhealthy ways and I've decided to work on my writing in this break. Hopefully, I'll be back soon with many more poems. Thank you once again :)
Deep Sangani Dec 2018
What do you want to read ?
When my heart is heavy with sorrow
i pour my blood
and convert it into ink.
Then, you shower love on me.
You tell me my writing is like wine,
elegant,
beautiful.

Yet when i feel nothing
but happiness
and i pour my heart
onto your feet
you brush it away.
You don't connect to me
and now you don't shower love.
"Your writing is like wine,
elegant,
beautiful,
poisonous."

You don't accept happy
because you don't connect to it.
You flow like the rest
in an ocean filled with grief.
You use me like a mat
and i serve you
waiting for that one day
you clean your sins away.
I honestly do not know what to write. I write with all my heart, but I've stopped gaining the love i used to. What are your expectations?
  Dec 2018 Deep Sangani
Ava
As the sunlight filters the air
it shows
Dust
And really what are the rest of us
But dust just waiting
To break apart
Dust just floating
with no real heart
We’re just dust
So easily brushed aside
Dust just about to
To crumble
And fly
  Dec 2018 Deep Sangani
Ava
You could paint a picture of our love
But be sure to keep it blurry
The fine details aren’t there so you could paint it in a hurry
I tell myself the details don’t matter
lines can be blurred
Though when I look into your eyes
Mine are cloudy with love deterred
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