People may tell you to not cry...
I won't because I know the difference.
They think they know when in fact they lie...
I say bury yourself in the deepest of detriments.

They may say that a new day will come...
They only spout what they can't comprehend.
They forget that you are ailing from a broken heart and that you're not dumb.
There's only you in your space, alone you stand...

Textbook responses are all they can offer...
They know not that it'll only make things worse...
There can be no replies so nice and proper.
To rid you of your life, your plight, your curse.

They may even share personal events that they think familiar.
Thinking what worked for them may work for you.
But no two situations are the same, albeit looking quite similar.
At the end of the day, you only owe it to yourself to pull yourself through.

I say feed your pain, grieve hard if you must
Wallow... Dwell... Drown yourself everyday.
Let your blood sear your insides, beneath your crumbling crust.
Let the world around you descend into destruction and decay.

What made me the expert...
To say these horrid, putrid things.
Because I am you and we both lay in the dirt.
Driven mad by the persistent echoes of our own misgivings.

I'm no expert... I am just a broken man.
Telling you to let yourself be caught in your own sad and angry song.
Be weak... Be as weak as you possibly can...
So you could rise from the ashes and emerge hale and strong.

there's almost always
an ambiguity
between what my words mean
and what my mind intends them to mean.

like, with loving intention, i tell her
i can't praise you enough

she smells a ploy in praise and enough.

she interprets them as
she hasn't done enough to deserve my praise.

then, when i tell her
with age you're maturing in beauty

she takes them to mean
i'm digging at her age
and her beauty is in doubt.

last, but not the least
when i compliment her thus
you've made my life full

she retorts

no more fooling.

to explain to you who cannot see,

the cloy, the quantity of water, tasks, and other

hurts, that fit into  af day. the moment

your feet slide into mud, with one word.



heard , read, imagined, the sentence dives and plays

whole, yet as days move on, flotation occurs,

buoys,  slowly we face back to sea , swim on.



either that or drown.



sbm.

what a beautifully subjective word

it is nice, to spend your precious time with those who don't deserve it

it is polite, to laugh off their lecherous looks with a swat on the arm

it is obligatory, to pleasure the boy who has taken an interest in you

when did nice become so ominous?

i owe you nothing.

...
One day
When all events will be finished,
Then you will see
Over and over again
Is this why the door closed,
By that time the window next to
The road is full of trash

Little by little
I will be almost removed
From your mind
Then Red Sun will be appeared
In a new horizon,
The birds will sing the same as before
You will laugh
For some reason mystery

Flowers will be dancing
Before you
You will be singing with someone
Highborn
Moonlight will brighten
Your night
And your Sky will be filled with
Full of dreams

But then you will not feel the,
Moonlit wet night
As your first feeling flourished
Like a Red Rose,
Either an Evergreen Love Song
Or As a Romantic Poem,
Hold your hands in a way
That will be mystic wandering

Remember My Darling,
And then I will exist
Thousands of Millions of miles
Away from you,
As a Bright Star
Will be burned myself
And be Fallen as dust
On your Eyes-
...
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Is she the flower I seek?
Or the season I'd want to live in..

Is she the star I yearn?
Or the sky where I'd reflect upon..

Is she the light that prevails?
Or the shadow I'd sneak in..

Is she the virtue?
Or the piles of sin I am drenched with..

Perhaps she is but my missing part,
Or maybe.. mere my reflection!

When meanings
Become
Meaningless
Life has a
Whole new
Meaning