We build
bridges for
the people

Who won't
even lift
a brick
for us.

We were "born" to experience the pain of "living."

Too many broken hearts.
Because people only care about the outer beauty

Not the inner one.

At first, she met him on the shore of the sea
And then again under the tiny lamppost back on the sixth street.

That second meeting was the moment where everything was changed.
He was just a stranger to her
But then, he became her friend.

Their friendship started with a short conversation.
Time passed and she started to make those conversations long without any hesitation.

She started to feel for him
She would call him every night.
She started caring for him
She would love him with all her might.

She proposed him as she took him for granted
And he didn't hesitate to make her his love.

Actually, that was something he was looking for
That was something he wanted.

A week passed and they went on their first date.
And that was the date of her life which changed her fate.

She went to downtown on his brand new car.
The date was not in a restaurant,
But in a well-known bar.

She drank a lot more than she should've
And He had a quiet a few too.
She couldn't speak the word she should've
Didn't realize what he would do.

She spent a lot of time on her first date
Didn't even realize she was way too late.

"Honey, Don't you worry
You can spend the night at my building.
We can gossip and talk the whole night
It'll help us with understanding."

He requested her about it,
He would plead.
She didn't agree at first
But later she did.

They started their journey by 12
"I'm going to my boyfriend's house,"
She chanted.
But she never thought what she was doing
Would be her biggest mistake.

They arrived after an hour.
His building was in a lonely place
It was in a jungle.
She was so scared
And she began to crumble.

He took her into the house
The house was quite big.
But she realized there was something wrong with the house,
There was something wrong with it.

He took her into the empty room lying on the second floor.
He put her on the bed and he tightly locked the door.

Actually, it all happened so quickly.
It was hurting,
She was crying,
She was screaming
And she was crawling.

She left his house the very next day.
But didn't know where to go,
She lost her way.

Should she call her parents and inform them about it?
Or should she call the police and tell what her boyfriend did?

She didn't know what to do.
She was crying and whispering,
"I wish I never met you."

He was just a stranger a few days back
And she never thought a stranger,
Could cause her such danger.

If you see a man who is broken,
don't always think someone has broken him.
Maybe his own expectations have broken him into pieces.

It is better to walk on a path that is dark but leads you to light
than walking on a path that is bright but leads you to the dark.

I post this picture with the caption
"Where do unsent texts go?"
This guy comments "maybe there's an afterworld for them.
Maybe
Maybe."
Maybe is a hopeful word
All my poems are an extended version of "maybe", maybe
See,
Maybe I didn't love you
Maybe you loved me too
Maybe the last time you kissed me,
You were drunk on someone else's memory
Maybe the last time I said 'closure'
I didn't really know what it meant
My tongue is a ****** up pretentious wannabe dictionary
I say things I don't really understand
So I write **** lamenting the same **** in ten thousand different ways
'Cause **** me
I don't drink but I visit bars
I met this guy in the bar and he told me he killed his lover
I asked him how and he said
He wrote poems
He wrote poems like 'you're an *******'
Poems like 'my beer tastes ******* better than you'
Poems like 'who the **** waits for your texts'
Poems like 'I hate you'
Poems like 'I hate you but I miss you'
The guy said "never trust a poet when he's drunk and never trust a lover when he's sober,
Better, never trust them at all
Especially when both of 'em are the same person"
The guy said "I'm no walking talking renaissance tragedy
And you should stop writing me like one"
I said I haven't
And he said that I surely would 'cause I'm in a bar drinking nothing
But listening to his ****
I said maybe
I forgot him and read plath this entire January
Quoting plath from her journal
"Not to be sentimental, as I sound, but why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream mother-Goose-world, Alice-in-Wonderland fable, only to learn that love can never come true, because the people you admire like Perry are unattainable since they want someone like P.K, to learn that you only want them because you can't have them, to learn that you can't be a revolutionary."
But see, my love for you was revolutionary
I died choking myself on all the unsaid, unsent things
I took birth again only to love you in this smooth strawberry-and-cream mother-Goose-world,
Alice-in-Wonderland fable
I brought the sun to its knees, again and again
I ate it up
But maybe sylvia was right
Maybe
I only wanted you 'cause I couldn't have you
Maybe the boy who lived 100 years ago
Was a ******* romantic
Who didn't know how to love without lamenting, so he died
100 years fast forward
The boy still doesn't know how to keep his emo **** together
He wears pyjamas with big pockets
He hides himself in
On weekdays,
He cries and fills up buckets on weekends, He does laundry
This whole thing is a big rant
And not a poem
Because I don't know how to write poems like 'my beer tastes ******* better than you'
Cause I don't know how a beer tastes like
So if I ever taste beer (I probably won't), I'll gather the courage to text you up
And say 'my beer tastes ******* better than you'
But just learn that 'never trust 'em at all'
I know it sounds cliché
But you're Perry
And I hope you find your P.K
And I hope your P.K isn't looking for some other Perry
Who's looking for some other P.K
Cause girl,
That ****
hurts
And there's no "maybe"
in hurt.