I hear the cries emanating from your words
Every letter of every sentence is a story
that only your broken heart can tell.

The longing for peace inside
brings chaos within your cracked bones
I hope that honey starts to drip
out of your scars instead of blood.

The thoughts spinning in your mind
now resemble the whorls in outer space
galaxies of decisions to take
follow the path of stars that lie in your heart.

I know how hard it is to open your eyes
face the world
and live behind your insecurities
let your skin jump from excitement
not from fear that causes constriction of yourself.

You haven't failed yourself
when you chose silence over speech
these pens have screamed louder than anything
one day they will hurt those who wounded you
so that the guilt inside
will keep them awake night after night,
I will continue to pray for you.

Soft heart and lips,
skin like pillows
chest a haven for whoever
is privileged enough
to find comfort in it
don't let the harsh days
blister the frame
that holds you, the artwork, together.

Allow these poems to rebuild you
so that you realize that homes out of people
burn faster than gasoline on fire
and that the paradise you crafted
out of your bathroom floor
corners of busy rooms
tears on scratched paper
and wrinkles on your tired forehead
is the one that will revive you forever.

Stay strong.

I have grown accustomed to the way
silence forced itself upon my social interactions
like a guest who wasn't invited
but was let in anyway.

My eyes have memorised the dents
on these four walls
that I could draw infinitely
on maps of this bare surface.

Pencils have worn out,
I'm running low on graphite
so my life decides to turn itself
into the same shade of gray
that I use to write about it.

Books are doors to another world
but their handles have broken,
"Help!" I screamed,
I am locked into this lonely reality.

A social life
filled with ghosts,
blank-faces,
and empty souls.

Nothing to give ,
Nothing to receive.