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You called me fake, and I smiled,
because knowing that you know the truth
made me endlessly happy.

Because you're the only one I wanted to know,
the only one who I wanted to know the real me;
the one who's opinion I valued a strangely large amount.
Jay,go **** yourself.
You never stop running;
Never slow down.
You’ve learned that silence
Is the screeching of sound.
The days keep changing,
But it all bleeds to one,
As you’ve found that sleep
Only wastes time.
The stress you feel
Just means your alive.
That shortness of breath
Helps you survive.
So you move through the world
Blind to it’s beauty,
For you’ve learned things are worthless
Unless they are moving.
 Mar 2015 Izzah Batrisyia
Àŧùl
Young heart mechanized to toil hard,
Dig deeper and deeper, and deeper,
Into the books her eyes are settled,
Climbs unto her brain what she reads,
Perhaps to her nerves is getting the creeper,
Her young fickle heart finds it harder,
Not concentrating on random distractions,
Yes she keeps herself on her studies,
And I trust she'll make board exams look easy,
Because her name is Life.
My HP Poem #799
©Atul Kaushal
 Mar 2015 Izzah Batrisyia
Pluto
you were a whirlwind;
& I got dizzy trying to keep up.
but the dust (you stirred) has finally settled;
& you are nowhere to be seen.
bits of you thicken the air, leaving tears
to continue stinging in my eyes
I was unwilling and I am alone.

I guess you were never meant to stay.
I.
On occasion
the world is more
then us mere mortals
who inhabit it can handle.

II.
Quite frankly,
existing is hard.

III.
Doing it without a hand to hold
is ten times harder
and much less soft
when you fall down.
From deep, again giant flares arise
"Oh Alex! Don't expect please for a surprise!"
Doors locked, preparing for a ride
My Best Man still sleeping outside
I don't have a cake nor a nine-shaped candle,
Even balloons or a new leather
Instead, they bought me flowers for my new garden
Then I saw a black limousine from a distant in my window
Yet my Dad is still asleep!
Just waiting for the sound of beep
I guess, We'll be going to a gothic party or near by the shore
I'm not planning to bring my umbrella anymore
So the sun's shine will show the glow of my smile's core
Then it all turns into a dark milieu,
where everybody is seriously crying
Cheerfully I shouted "Don't worry! I'm not yet turning to Eighteen though!"
No one tries to laugh nor to smile
I gently ask my Mom about this after a while
She said that my Dad had won a solo ticket from the clouds
Having a long vacation above

Reminiscing it now,
Before I go to school by myself later
*"Waking up without Father, is like stirring milk without water"
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