Love, the real kind, is never simple.
It is the one thing that makes life worth it in the end,
and something that wonderful and sought-after is never going to be easy to get.
You have to work for it.
Blood, sweat, and tears.
So if it’s easy, yeah maybe you won’t get broken.
But you won’t be truly happy, either.
You’ll be settling.
Don’t get me wrong,
There are lots of things in life that are totally acceptable to settle on.
Sure, Harvard was your dream school.
But you know what?
Going to your state school because its more affordable
Will still get you where you want to be in life.
And I know the hairdresser couldn't match the color you showed her,
But you are beautiful and can rock it anyway, so don’t worry.
But love?
Settling in love is like buying a pair of shoes that are a size too small,
Just because you thought they were pretty.
They may look nice,
But you are dying on the inside. I
f you had just held out a bit longer,
You would have found a pair just as beautiful that fit well, too.
Maybe that nice guy looks good on paper,
But if he doesn’t give you butterflies whenever he looks at you,
Don’t be with him.
You want someone who makes you fall for them every day,
Not just once.

Neither a word
Nor a feeling.
It's intangible
But
It's alive

Indescribable yet,
Able to cause sufficient damage
Equivalent to a single life.

Just a single day
Hundreds and thousands
Die
From the wrath
Of Pain.
In the mercy
Of its insatiable desire.

At times
Strength from it
Though mostly
destructive

No amount of mitigation
Or medication
Will cease its existence
For pain is real
And so are you.

(C.C)

A walking tragedy
Along the street
With lines on her wrists
And a smile on her face.

Her interior beauty
No naked eyes see
Her destroyed exterior
Judged by plenty.

She learnt
To put on masks
As though parading
A life long masquerade.

A passion for the arts:
Her body the canvas
The blade her pen
Crimson red
Staining sheets.

Finally one day
She has had enough
Of leading a life
Akin to drama.

She threw away all masks
And showed her frown
Took the rope
And left the ground.

This beautiful tragedy
Remembered for
Her love & kindness
She didn't knew she possessed.

That's how the world is
A huge tragedy
Of unappreciated beings
Leaving without living.

Twenty six letters
When jumbled and played with
Forms words
With a myriad of meanings.

It's amazing how twenty six letters
Can cause such extensive impact
Giving life
And snatching breaths.

These twenty six letters
Satisfy, satiate.
They depict feelings
And tell "tales".

Twenty six letters I wrote
But none could ever express
The desolate and helplessness
I feel every single day.

Twenty six letters
I once hated
Became something
Indispensable.

Once, I hated you.
Once, I thought that I was happier without you.
But those letters turned tables
And now I write for you.

(c.c)

This is not a poem.
It's more of a lashing of words
To remind myself that I'm alive.
Let the pain paint my flesh
A vibrant pink,
Filled with vitality.

This is not a poem,
But it's written for the sole purpose to remind everyone,
I'm human.
I make mistakes; I'm not perfect.
I'm not a robot,
I need my rests.

I just HAVE to reiterate:
This is not a poem.
I just had to bring out feelings and words
I can never let out
Because I have to "save my face"
And I am "strong".
But I'm truly sick and tired
Of living this life without having any reason
Or anything to hold dear to.
Self destruction isn't bad,
When it keeps you alive.

This is not a poem.
But just so to let you know,
The blanket that's wrapped around me
Is so thick and heavy
My shoulders can't bear it's weight anymore.
Even the bed, creaked due to the immense pressure.

No, this is not a poem.
I don't quite know what I'm feeling.
But I know something:
I can't live like this forever,
And I need someone to realize that.

(C.C)

She doesn't know why
She's the sort of person
Who converse with inanimate objects.
She can't (help) but call for the razor
Whenever she's in deep confusion.

She's not the sort of person
Who is able to use verbiages at her fingertips.
The tune her fingers play
Doesn't portray
Phantoms in (her) head.

(She)'s the sort of person
Who loves coffee and the morning sun.
But she's also the sort of person
Who hates her own existence
And find that she's no good for life.

She's the sort of person
Who doesn't believe that people care
For everyone who said that
either left
Or (wants to leave).

(She) didn't meant to be annoying
Nor did she wanted to be so disgusting.
She hated putting that cold metal
Against her skin which was warm with life.
She hated sticking *******
Down her only throat.
She merely (need)ed something
To take the pain away.
Her only wish was (salvation);
She's been held captive by her mind.

(C.C)

Beautiful person
I want to be with you

Although you continue to stop my heart

I want to be with you
Under the sun

Even if one day we have to say goodbye
I won't forget to give you my
"Love Message"

Because I know one day you will return again

You beautiful person
Who continues to hold my heart

I hope you will continue
To protect it

And keep it safe
In your pockets that are so very empty

Forever

Sometimes I do forget
That your beauty hurts

And sometimes I forget to smile
At you

So I will continue to watch you from afar

Oh beautiful person
Can I hold your hand?

And walk under different moons with you?

This feeling just wants to burst
Right out of my chest

A feeling adults have never understood

You beautiful person

Continue to stay
With me

Beautiful person, I need to tell you
What's in my heart of hearts

You need to know

Under the thousand suns we crossed
While we watched the many moons

That I fell in love with your beautiful person.

Your the petals to my ruby red rose
The flowers to my lovely meadow
Your surfer to my sea blue ocean waves
The sand castle on my lovey beach sand
Your the words to my mushy love song
The story to my detailed novel
Your the keys to my beautiful piano
The notes to my own creativity
Your the trees to my dark mysterious forest
The dirt in my dry hot desert
Your my cell phone in my class
The Peanut butter to my PB and J
Your my  beating heart
Which i can not live with out
You are my love
You are my life
You are my everything

I guess you could call her a stranger,
she's afraid to get too close.
Attitude buried deep in her skin
her pain, heartache
[She fakes a smile]

They want to understand,
what goes on inside her head.
Her laugh, monotonous,
her skin could break.
[and she's beautiful.]

I want him to see the pain he caused,
the hurt inside her eyes.
The love she felt,
[undeniable]
For him?
[unworthy.]

You forget the pain and live in the moment,
never sharing how you truly feel.
Do you look for separation
or does it find you?
[Are you ashamed?]

With no desire to be amicable,
you believe you have true friends.
Tossing and turning thought the day.
Yearning to remain alive.
[Her heart still beats.]

Opinionated irony,
I see it in her eyes.
Life will turn out the way you hope
when you find your only someone.
[True love.]

Confusion spreads like a spider bite
and strokes then through her words.
A shocking splendor of melancholy lyric.
[Shot through fangs.]
Amazed me.
[Realization.]