things never come out
quite the same
in ink
as in mouth

especially:

Thank you.
I love you.

and

I'm sorry...

Have you noticed lately?
How people diss everything big and small
Things they cannot relate with
Things they cannot comprehend
As if, the onus lies on others - people and things
To be self-explanatory, to spoon feed
As if, a mystery should as though unravel itself
As if, we have no part to play here
As if, everything is for us to enjoy
But never to be pursued
As if, life should come easy,
And everything in it, everything that comes with it
As if, death too, should come easy
And maybe this makes sense to everyone
This fashion of thought
Maybe I'm the only one who cannot fathom
The depths of stupidity in thinking so
Maybe, I cannot relate
To the ways of the world
It's a strange world,
As if, the onus of becoming comprehensible
Is on the world...

I'll write you a poem
Another day
I'll write you one
When I can
Right now
I'm just too lost
I thought the poet in me
Would die when something
Terrible would happen
And not something
Terrific!
But then here I am
Swimming in numbness
Drowning in mush
Feeling so much
That I feel nothing

I'll write you a poem, my dear,
Another day
I'll write you one
When I can
When I feel a little less intense
Right now, though,
I'm just too consumed
Let me be here
Let me be...

Another dab of red on her lip
A final spray of fragrance
Baubles cuffing her dainty wrists
And a spring in her step

She steps out and steps into the car
Their eyes meet, a sparkle across one of her 32
He nods with a giggle, "Finally, the day has arrived..."
Zestful fingers turn the key, the engine revs up

And like always, she completes his sentence
With a bright one across her face
"Yes, the day we set each other free."
And together they burst

While little Macy and Phillip
Make promises, young in love
From afar, below the cliff,
They see light shine so bright, like fire burst

And perhaps, they were only firecrackers
Thinks Phillip, his innocent mind
Unable to tell a blast from a burst
But Macy knows, for she caused the brakes to fail

The witch’s hour approaches-
What an unearthly time to be alive,
To open your eyes in fear,
To shut them back into illusion.

In your tired veins, yesterday’s sorrow sneaks through;
Do they burn with numbness?
Does the air caress your venomous pores?

This girl is a witch;
A witch is a saint,
For all the saints have confessed
To having sinned.
Can a god resign?
Can he seek forgiveness?
I hold him in the palm of my hand-
Tired creature,
Old with time,
Dark with worry.
There are no resurrections left to save
What is to be forgotten anyway.

The witch’s hour passes by—
The almighty can be put to rest once more;

Sleep in a mattress of distress,
Slip in oblivious bliss.

Candy-sweet ballads
****** heartache arias
Undying
soulmate
anthems

Everywhere I go
The soundtrack never changes
But no one else
seems
to notice

Red-rose shades of white noise
Heart-shaped confetti stuck in my ears
Jangling
omnipresent
sound waves

The song everyone is singing
Grates against my inner drum
It's not
the kind
I'm looking for

I am trying
but trying doesn't make
deep wounds heal any faster,

and you rubbing salt in them
does not help them to
hurt any less.