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He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.

He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.

He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.

He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.

He's no poet.**
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.
I am not good at this. I just want to express my pure gratitude, appreciation and awe for you.

"I am no poet. Never thought of myself as one. Just a guy dabbling clumsily in words"
Yet even, everything you do amaze me.


Thank you all wonderful people on Hello Poetry. I just realized this moment that this poem was featured as Daily poem yesterday.  I have never imagined any of my work will be posted as daily. Thank you all for the hearts, re-post,share, comments and messages. You really made my heart and soul so happy. :)
And most of all, thanks to the man who inspire me to write this one. :)
(04.14.2015)
 Apr 2015 Gaurav M
Mikaila
There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.
Something comforting.
It is a comfort only very damaged people understand- the tacit agreement to cause pain, and to receive it.
Pleasure is for people who have what they want.
But for those of us who are starving, ours is best peppered with suffering.
Being with someone who understands that carries its own worth-
I don't want you to make me feel good.
I couldn't stand it if you did.
I don't want you to touch me gently, or ask if I'm alright, or stop to look into my eyes.
I am starving, and so are you: I want your teeth.
I want you to make me hurt. And I want to hurt you.
I want you to hurt me because I'm not him, and I want to hurt you because you're not her.
We want to see each other suffer because we are starving and we need to feel that someone else is.
Don't hold back. I want you to lower me because I'm too good for her.
Don't love me, don't caress me. Dig your nails in. Drip candlewax on my stomach.
One step down from torture is all I can stand in the way of human connection, when it isn't her.
Punish me for looking at her like a baleful puppy tonight, even as you waited in my room with your soft skin and your sharp teeth.
There is nothing you can do that will be too violent, too brutal, too sadistic.
I don't want to be loved right now.
I am too raw.
I want to be touched. I want to be ruined. Leave marks. Smear lipstick.
Lower me because I am
Too
****
Good for her.
Let this heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs don't matter.
Help me **** it. Help me pin my demons to the bed and make them writhe, and I will do the same for you.
Let's exorcise our loves tonight and banish them to hell.
Let's tell our skin that it is irrelevant.
Let's say "*******" to the things that bind us. I will cut your heart out for him.
I will kiss your scars, not to heal them but to remind you that when you put them there you fought for something, something we both fight for now.
Hurt me. Fight her. Do it for her.
Do it for her because I'm not good enough to hurt.
Do it for her because I'm TOO good to hurt.
Crush me.
You could boil me alive and it wouldn't make up for her, so at least leave me bruised.  
I will give you what you need, and you will give me what I need: not love, but contact.
Please,
Let my heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs
Don't
Matter.

There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.
 Apr 2015 Gaurav M
haripater
why?
 Apr 2015 Gaurav M
haripater
Do you ever ask yourself why?

Why is she prettier than you?
Why is he smarter than you?
Why is she better than you?

Or the hardest question to ask yourself

Why did the person you love left you hanging

Was it because someone was better
Was it because you weren't good enough

Everyday I wake up with this question in my mind
Everyday I wake up with a puzzled face
Everyday I wake up with a broken heart

Why?

Because

You left me hanging
You raised my hopes
You made me believe that someone would be able to accept me and love me  for who I am and will never give up on me

Remember

These words would always be in my mouth
These hands would always miss your touch
This lips would always linger for your kiss

And

This heart would always wait for a love like yours
Dont ever break a person's heart.
 Apr 2015 Gaurav M
Mark Lecuona
Give them what they want
Or make them want what you have to give
A pretty face makes you stupid
She knows it, that's why she acts that way
It doesn't matter why they feel the way they do
You fell for it, you deny it, but we know better
Nothing older than you can be questioned
You just have to decide what it is you wish to believe
It's better to take pictures of flowers in the spring
Than endure someone who can't understand your mind
It's not about getting there from here
It's about making there what here is all about
A transformed mind has forgotten his childhood
And must say no to his mother and mean it
If you ever decide you can be faithful
Then you are the luckiest man in the world
 Apr 2015 Gaurav M
NV
911.
 Apr 2015 Gaurav M
NV
"911 what's your emergency?"

"SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S DEAD! I CAN SEE IT IN HER EYES. HER HEART BROKE AND I EVEN CUT MY FOOT ON THE SHARDS."

"I'm going to need you to slow down ma'm. Now tell me, who is it that's dead?"*

"ME!"

(hangs up the phone)

*"Ma'm. Ma'm, is anybody there?"

— The End —