Possessing a soul like a selfish thief.
Holding it close and never letting it leave.
That's what it's like to be loved by me.

You've traced the scars that line up my arms.
You've kissed those streaming tears away.
You've made love to the rhythm of my soul.
Stolen my heart and held me in your warm embrace.
You've pricked yourself over my rough edges and blades.
You've adorned my hands with yours.
And now, You've weaved the letters of your name on the canvas of my soul.

My hands are numb and so is my heart.
Every breath of air I take into my chest hurts.
In and out its like running a 5k marathon.
My stomach twists and turns.
My head fluttered with racing thoughts.
Tears filling up in my eyes like a bathtub.
Body aches.
Laying in the bed straight staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Quiet and numb. I can't feel anything.
Nothing at all.
I want to scream
I want to cry out
But nobody will listen
Nobody understands this deep dark twisted pain.
On replay everyday for my enjoyment.
Maybe one day I'll wake up,
And I won't be depressed.
Probably not.

A lifetime of moments
spread like tiny seeds
scattered at her feet
Learning, growing
smiling, crying
laughter and tears
giggles and fears
and all the ups and downs
of a girl with stars in her eyes
and dreams in her skies
A lifetime of moments
spread like tiny seeds
scattered by innocent feet
so she can bloom
like blue in the spring
and purple in the fall
She has now blossomed
into a flower of all seasons

She is Payal...

I wonder what he hides
behind those smiling lies
and the warm creeping blush
that shades his eyes

I wonder if he knows
that I can see

I wonder what he sees
when he looks at me
the flushed cheeks
and hesitant goodbyes
quivering lips
from wasted lies

I wonder what he sees*

© Priya Patel, 1/29/16

The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.
~ St. Jerome

I do not like it here
I do not like what we have.

Take the shovel,
here.

Pigeon-toed,
austere.

Dig deep in the earth,
big capable man.

Plunge through that dirt
until you reach the other side.

I'm
restless
as desert dust

the steps on me,
heavy.

Plant in me
the rose

and garden
the romance.

Won't you
resuscitate
the dear
in my tongue

tighten
the clutch
of these arms

soften
this face,
unalarmed

out of its casket
into a smile...

Take the shovel,
here.

You’ve been cold too.
Your body is quivering

so
dig
through
that
dirt

Dig deep in the earth,
big capable man.

Bring us both back
the last breathing rose.

But the man with the shovel
never came back...

However
I did hear he reached the other side.