I've always been afraid to be ******
Never wanted to be a raging hormonal beast
Loving her parts but not her whole
Perverse thoughts staining my soul

But wanting her skin AND mind is fine
An appreciation that ages like wine
Thinking of your body while feeling your light
Wanting to make love then hold you tight

To please is to love
Learned that from above
Your comfort is a priority
*** is wanted but part of the minority

No scheme or plan
Coming before you a bare man
Offering the radiant tangible feelings in my hand
Fighting to stay when other ran

Drowning in the depth of her essence
Overcome by your totality
Unable to exist with you in reality
Hence why he's the latest fatality

But I'm here on demand
Trust me, I'm your biggest fan
Don't worry, it'll be alright
I'll be here when you greet the morning light

Oh how you'll never know how much I miss you
I should have held you a little longer every night we shared
I should have snuck a bottle of your cologne to spray through all my clothes
I should have let you kiss me when we were fighting
I should have hugged you tighter
I should have hugged you tight
our ribs connected so we could never part.
I should have gone to war for you
that night
I should have turned you around
made you stay
Why'd you leave lover?
Now theres a permanent icy spot
on the left side of my bed
on the left side of my heart
& you my love
you were my right hand
all the better parts of me
are intertwined in my mess of loving you
no one comes close lover
no one comes close

On cold mornings
I always take a few minutes out of everyday to picture what it would feel like if you were still here
I imagine you laying next to me
holding my hand
kissing my forehead
on really cold mornings I swear I can still feel your touch
but when the minutes are up
I open my eyes
& you're there
& I'm here
its heartwrenching and horrendous
but that is the reality of this fairytale

one night you asked me if I remembered what it was like to be in love with you
I laughed to myself because
baby
how could I forget?
you standing there, hands in your pockets
the smile whenever you laid your eyes on me
the t-shirt you wore under your clothes, everyday,
because it was once your fathers
the scar behind your left ear
that appeared after fighting for your sister
How could I forget?
dancing barefoot on the cold kitchen tiles
laughing so hard we could feel it in our hearts
smoking in your car, blasting music
making future plans to run away
I knew then I had it all
I know now, forgetting will never be an option for us
How could I forget you?
I could've sworn you put the sun in the sky and the stars in my eyes
there's no forgetting a love like ours

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived

The hand that written have
become frozen.
Words have become
meaningless.
The paper is just an empty
blank space.
The love story is never
the same.

How can I say I love you,
when a poet died
and words are no more a word for love?
But instead, words have become a hurtful way
to **** somebody soul,
Like the poet.

ना हमे खुशी चाहिए ना तेरा शहर चाहिए,
बहुत प्यासा हूँ मैं बस थोड़ा ज़हर चाहिए,

ना दिन की ज़रूरत है ना ख्वाईश है रात की,
जी लूँ मैं जीभर के वो वक़्त मुख़्तसर चाहिए,

वक़्त से इल्तज़ा नही की वो ताउम्र हमारी रहे,
बस देखता रहूँ उन्हें वो मुसलसल पहर चाहिए,

ना सुकूँ की आरज़ू है ना तमन्ना है सिला की,
जो डूबा दे हमे उनकी उल्फ़त में  वो पुरजोश लहर चाहिए,

खूबसूरत ज़िस्म का क्या जो मिट्टी में मिल जाए,
जिसमें देख सकें हम खुद को वो चमकता हुआ नज़र चाहिए,

अग़र बिन उनके जीना पड़े तो ऐ मेरे ख़ुदा सुन,
जो मिटा दें हमें पूरी तरह  एक वैसा तेरा क़हर चाहिए.....

we are like stars, like dying embers,
clusters of us and only one
explodes.

my dreams have turned me into desire,
and i wonder where my desire will take me,
i wonder what my desire will make me.

will i be like star, or ember,
or will i be like the fireworks at night,
the ones no one notices until they explode.

that boom sounds like my heartbeat
-it’s still looking for a beat.
hasn’t found one yet.

hasn’t found one yet,
but it seems to beat for you.

darling, you know i love the stars.
at night, they light up the sky,
they’re brilliant and i can’t not love them.

you’re a star of mine,
brilliant,
but do you fade?

in the morning, will you still seem
bright,
or beautiful?

are you even there?

i’m scared you only glow at night,
and that my eyes will lose you,
and my heart will just beat somewhere else.

will you stay in the morning,
or will you be gone
like the fireworks last night?

summer nights are best spent with you.
greedily scarfing down ice cream,
watching our feet touch the sky from old playground swings.

and the ones in your mom’s car
-the soft music, the hard music
singing to melodies that we’ll never know.

each night, we feel each’s wishes.
i, i want to give you fairs, and cotton candy,
and hold your hand as we walk along the sidewalk.

i want to twirl you around,
because though we’re very summer friends
i want to keep you forever.

our feet scrape the gravel,
toes tap the sidewalk,
noses breathe in the air.

distinctly, i remember something
-us in a concert,
our shoulders brushing as we danced.

i remember laughing with you in the water,
because i hated being short,
so naturally i had to climb you.

i remember every year
we laugh away these nights,
until they become memories.

they, were, definitely,
polaroid worthy.
you’d give a blank look.

and then spring would come again,
and we’d be sitting in your mom’s car,
watching the sunset again.

remember this?

it’s getting cold.
her work begins to pile up on her desk,
paper cascading around her off the table,
sitting ignored as she thumbs through a book,
humming softly.

and she feels ever colder,
because though she knows the sun will touch her face one last time,
she feels the impending sense of everything changing.
her freedom, her sleep, and all those books
-piling up around her in dizzying towers she can’t seem to hold upright.

each poem has become an ode.
no longer does she right those summer love poems,
notes of dreams and pining and romance.
she’s grown lonely,
and grown up.

each ode is to who she was
-the kind girl with the widest eyes and strong opinions,
this new girl with no focus,
drifts and watches the ink run down the page.
she’s so worried, because she doesn’t care.
and doesn’t care about that.

tomorrow will be better,
she says, sighing with tiredness repeating over and over again.
tomorrow.
tomorrow.
tomorrow.

but the pounding in her head won’t go away,
and all the doubts sink in
-you’ve lost your edge.
-you’re not doing enough.
-you’re never going to do enough unless you break.

her heart seems to beat colder,
slow down and she’s not that old.
she’s young, and she feels herself,
the brightness and ambition disappearing,
and they’re replaced by content and a sense of emptiness.

with depression comes manipulation. you end up lying. you lie about how you feel or you let out bits but not whole truths. they believe you.
with self harm comes manipulation. you know you have eight blades but you give up five. you have twelve hiding spaces but you give up eight. they believe you.
with progress becomes manipulation. you use the coping skills and say are helping. you cut in different places. you lie about feeling better and let your emotions out somewhere else