.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

Stay a little while with me
And let your lips redraw my contours
Like the greatest cartographer
Working at his craft

Stay a little while with me
And let my hands retrace your bruises
As if to wish away the wrong done
To your beautiful skin

Stay a little while with me
And swear on stars alone
That when daybreaks comes
You won't disappear with the transitory moon

Stay a little while with me
And stay a little while longer?

Chained by truth,
Chained by tears,
Chained by dreams, and
Chained by fears.

Coward to self,
Victor to all,
Fears naught but one:
Which is Death's call.

Annoyance is plenty,
A straight face is kept.
Tears of joy,
Have never been wept.

Bane is joy,
Boon is sorrow.
Was there still hope,
To be a morrow?

Never change,
Never bother.
To show weakness
To another.

My life had just been wrecked
My mind twisted in ways it shouldn't
My heart was scattered across the world
My fears surrounded me
the darkness clouded my thoughts
I was plagued with nightmares
the stress was never ending.


Then, In a moment of blinding clarity
I saw your eyes,
they connected with mine from across a room.
That smile, that face, that light that shown
I wanted that light so desperately,
for my very own.
You had a meek assurance
that I had never known
a smile and a hug,
that said I'd never be alone.

I care not for my darkened past
In time they will all be forgotten
I care not for all those angry people
who had tried to turn me rotten...
Because in your love and grace
I find the pieces of my peace
and they all fall into place.

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!

To the girls who are secretly so broken
You WILL be alright
I know you have scars on your soul
Maybe your heart
Possibly your wrists
None of this is your fault
And even if you think it is
Let it go
Not that you can, that easily
But try
I know you are broken
I know you're not okay
Especially when people ask how you are and you answer "I'm fine"
When what you really mean is "I'm alive"
But what do you really care about your own survival anymore
Well I just want you to know
There is beauty in broken glass
And to me
There is immeasurable beauty
In broken girls
So don't you ever forget
You cannot be defined by pain
You're too beautiful for that
Stay strong, broken girl
Nothing is ever really broken

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.