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You-a wandering coin
Getting dusted
And tasting the heat of the ground
About to get buried under it
Until I picked you up
I knew you can never be mine
Even though you were lost
And I found you
Because you carry something within yourself
A scent
Of her
And your heart reeks of it
Even though you can't carry yourself
She has made a home within you
That could carry you through
Even if I had not found you

Now that I have found you
Knowing you can never be mine
I'll use you for my wishing well
And I'll only wish well for you!
  Apr 13 Always Sulking
My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
For the better parts.
For the “soon”.
For my life to begin.
I don’t feel like I have lived.
In the nearly twenty years
I have been alive
And breathing
I do not feel
In any of those years
That I have been alive.
I don’t feel like a single breath
That I have taken
Has been real.
I feel as if
All these years
I’ve been stuck
Behind a window
Watching as my life unfolds
Before me.
I feel that
I have had
Zero control.
That I am in the backseat
Letting someone else drive.
That someone else,
Is writing on the pages
Of MY life.
But no more.
I will break that window,
I will take that wheel,
And I will write
My own pages.
My life has begun,
And now -
I’m in control.
Yesterday, April 8th, was my birthday. I wrote this poem two years ago, when I was 19 almost 20, and on my 22nd birthday I find that the website selected it as a daily and I have all these wonderful people saying wonderful things about my poetry. Thank you Hello Poetry, and thank you everyone else. This was the best birthday present I could have even gotten. (04/09/2021)
Always Sulking Aug 2020
Don't be bothered
If I am cold and sad
Love, you ask?
Don't expect something which I don't have
Always Sulking Aug 2020
Time is my enemy
I didn't treat her right
All she needed was saving
All I did was waste her all night
Always Sulking Aug 2020
She touches the fire
But turns it into ice
She thinks of doing good once
Instead she does the bad twice
Her body with imprints of all the hues
But her heart is painted only of blue
Those who try to turn it red
Find their souls barren and wrecked

Once she wanted to be loved
and housed by warmth
She chose a route leading to fire
Walking that road
She burned with "their" desire
Watching her ashes in the air
She missed her cold flair
Her cold- her need, dire
She reached an epiphany
Of why she was fond of cold
As, build on blue
Was the genesis of her soul
Always Sulking Aug 2020
She is a great dine
They, feeding off of her
Her tears, their wine
She managed to save some
On a secret corner of her reservoir
As it fills to the brim
It was a monsoon
On her long deserted heart
Monsoon turns to flood
As she let it pour out today
Nothing is left in her reservoir today
But she is now a Terra
Left with sweet petrichor today
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