I hate this game
To stagnate to move
To care-
So why are my eyes leaking?
Why is my throat raw?

What is this?
You’re a moonbeam-
It’s so blinding
So binding

Seep through the cracks of my skin
Gnaw at my veins
My heartbeat slows.
Can you feel it?

Tell me we’re alright?

I
used To
read My poems
in Talent shows
i Don't think i will this year
i Worry i won't come off as well as the singers and dancers
i know that They will clap the same for me
but Are they
really Listening?

This feeling,
The feeling of having full heart,
The feeling of having a mind storming,
The feeling of having a suppressed soul,
But not being able say anything.

Too many things to say,
Too many things in mind,
Too many things buried in heart,
But when the mouth opens,
Mind blanks, Heart silences, Words vanish.

Not being able to speak,
Not being able to write,
For a writer, it is failure,
Failure in life, in passion,
Failure as a person.

Every morning
When you wake
My mornings
Come alive.
I Watch you dress
Put your make
Up on
I do smile as the
Day goes on.
Then at night
When you disappear
I begin to sulk
Having nothing
To leer.
When you return
And the lights go on
All your beauty
Is back where it belongs
In the morning I will
See you later
Your ever
loving
wallpaper.