You cant save my life
I am drawn
drawn in my own pain

You cant make me happy
I am covered
Covered with my own grief

You cant read me
I am written in the paper
damped by my own tears

I am love, I am hate, I am future, I am fate.
I am all things that form under a summer’s night: hot sticky reality being shoved into the face of those that believe themselves exempt from it.
I am what light shines on and where trees grow, I am the nature that makes life possible and what makes society go.
I am a shark to those who bleed their prey, and a dove to those who accept my nature. I am a kiss to those who need one, and a fist for those who deserve one
I am Human- the biggest mystery of them all.

The time has come,
to find a better way,
don't want to feel undone,
don't want to run away.

It's been a life of beautiful experiences,
a life full of chaos and fears,
so many difficult obstacles,
the days has turned into years.

Finding a different course to take,
it has been a road filled with love,
making memories happen everyday,
this is a life dreamed of.

My mind is a-buzzing
So many thoughts flitting about
Of friendships, love, and life
Each one begging to be let out

But my mind is a prison
And my fear the warden
My thoughts are the prisoners
But I'm the only victim

My thoughts scream,
Set me free to follow my dreams
My fears reply,
**What dreams? You belong to me

I blame it on the easy things,
my parents,
past relationships,
black holes.
But it's always been me
that's been in
control.
Deciding to stop
when they told me to go.
Screaming out "yes"
as I was choking down "no."
Pressing the pedal
when I should've gone slow.
My actions and my words
never quite match up.
Saying I'm healthy
as smoke fills my lungs.
Calling myself an atheist
but telling it to God.
Sitting here wondering,
When will I stop?
I can blame it on the easy things,
stimulants,
a chemical imbalance,
the doctors white coat.
But it's always been me
that's been in
control.

Sometimes the things I say
don't match up with
what's in my head.
It's kinda like
how our blood is blue
but when we bleed it's red.

She is standing on the brink of sanity
looking for something to hold on
She is twenty-six years old, watching a world go by
and wondering whether she belonged

An artist’s child she is, playing with fire;
uncertain if the rug would be pulled from beneath her feet
or if it would just burn in magnificent flames
scratching into her eyes calling forth her tears

She is everyone and no one
She is an idea, a rumor, an imagination
and the last piece of a puzzle that no one tried to solve

She is the pain in pleasure and the pleasure in pain
She is the terrifying beauty of life

She is addiction with a veil of innocence
clinging on to her like a possessive lover

She is curiosity with wide beckoning eyes
She is sin, a devil’s temptation
with delicate grace as enchanting as a lost nymph

She is the woman lying in his bed cocooned in sheets
stained with her blood
with a red so bright that it threatens to claw his eyes out

She is poetry with lyrical verses of wild hair
matted with dirt and blood,
ends curling down the edge of his pillow

She is music with symphonies of chattering teeth
and rustling clothes against smooth ivory skin,
borne of a night as cold as the heart she accused him of bearing

She is forgiveness with serene smiles on lips
as soft as a butterfly’s wings and a small hand outstretched
to clasp his and paint it with red pigments of defeat and strength

She is death with haunting eyes the color of warm honey
that his mum used to feed him
on rainy afternoons he spent curled up in her lap

But he has never been so peaceful
in his entire pathetic existence,
For if death is as exquisite as her
then perhaps death was what he had been searching for all along

-പ്രിയാന്ഷി ദാസ്‌