Love is for lucky ones,
Not for the shy ones
Not for those who want to be loved,
Love is for "the one",
Not for "that" one,
Even if its real from one way,
Its an illusion for the the one to see it,
Even if you try to potrait it ,u can't ,
Cause your lacking in colours to paint.
LOVE IS JUST A FEELING,THAT YOU WANNA HAVE.YOU HAVE TO HAVE THRILL,GUTS AND REALISM TO ACHIEVE it.

I've never been good at
Being touched.

Though the fingers
Of endless suitors
Have traced incomparable
Lines of affection,
They all stroke
The same wounds.

New hands feel like
Recycled lullabies,
Humming promises
Of a new melody,
Singing a remedy for
My impassivity.

Whether words fall
Passionate or
Fearful,
Endearment lines my lips
With an expiration
Long enough to convince me,
But short enough to leave me.

Reminding me:
The disintegration of
Indifference
Remains
My prerequisite
For destruction.

So before you
Touch me with
Promises of a new
Orchestration,
I'm already marking the
Days until you leave.

Because my skin
Is tired of
Intruders hidden
Behind momentary
Infatuation.

So keep your hands to yourself.

She

A silhouette holds my hand
When a whale is trapped on land
A cemetery for an old broken man
A church candle lit on a lamp stand
She tore my heart out;
She tore my heart out.

Something New

The sunlight wakes me in the morning
The atmosphere around us paints it blue
The birds are singing in the morning
Nature made them fly for you
The mind is gentle without warning
The days and nights that I've been through
The summer ends while I'm still yawning
The northern winds will be here soon
To some, the world is still dawning
To me, the earth sings a dying tune
I live a simple life in watching
I live because survival is a colour that returns us to something new.