Look behind me,
I don't have wings
simply a bare back and spine.

But oh, how I wish to fly.

we live in a world of concrete
who needs trees anyways?
we're happy with our gases
the ones that suffocate us
but not as much
as the fresh air.
who needs a healthy environment
anyways?
we have our hospitals
and cures to diseases.
peace of mind?
that's been eradicated completely
and quite successfully might i add.
because life's just not fun
without any complications
and in our case,
they're not even natural.

It's easy to get obsessed with something
that isn't good for the self.

For me, it was you.

You were that ****** song,
I couldn't get out of my head.
That type of chocolate,
I could never get enough of.
Those hours I overslept.
That escape I found,
every time I wept.

Those day dreams.
Those feelings.
That smile.

None were good for me,
yet that is what I'm craving.

There is a lot I love
About spring and summer,
The warmth, the freedom
From scarves and coats.
The flowers in bloom,
The outdoor pools,
The hot days with ice cream
And cold coffee and slurps.
But most of I all I love the trees in my city,
that sway in the summer wind.
And I can stare at them forever
As my car passes by.
And they are colored not only green
But of many more hues pleasant to my eye.
There are orange, and purple (my favourite ones), and pink.
So when the ground I walk upon
Is littered with these colored petals,
I feel like nature has a lot of beauty to show
But all we do is step on it.

WE'VE KILLED IT.

We’ve killed Humanity.
And don’t remember
What it used to be.

We’re surrounded by fights
And nuclear weapons
We’ve killed it.
We’ve killed Peace.

We’ve turned into murderers
Unknowingly, unwillingly,
But now the habit just won’t
Leave.

It’s become habit to
Exploit
It’s become nature to
Destroy.

i am the poem and the poetess,
with irregular rhyme patterns and
dreams in clouds brewed from midnight coffee.

i am a prose neatly typed out,
handed in ten minutes after the deadline
stained with morning black tea.

A whirlpool of emotions and thoughts
Swirls in my mind
And I can barely swim on
When confusion reigns
And bewilderness holds
The crown
That is when I pull out my sword.
I must cling
and in no condition leave
That one emotion
which will keep me going on.
which will motivate me
inspire me
and keep me right here
And make me strong.

We believe scars are weaknesses.
They are not, they shouldn’t be.
They should be prizes and trophies
To hang on walls and dust everyday
And when someone comes over you can say,
“Look, I was there. I tried, I fought,
and I survived. I lived.
I am alive.”

The world means nothing compared to you,
Won't you make me feel that way too?

A steaming mug between my hands
Paper littered around me
I sit, forehead creased,
in my balcony.
I see the sky and the ground
and I'm simply floating in between.

Rolling a pen
between my fingers
watching the hills
they look greener than ever
I'd like to sleep
I'd like to read
But homework does
bind me.

This is procrastination,
level: extreme.

there is something unsettling in the air

maybe it's the sound of thunder rattling the windows,
                               maybe it's the lightning tearing the sky apart
      or the vibration of the earth below my feet, maybe it's her laugh.
                                        
                 ­     something is adding to that fire ablaze in my heart.

                                                                ­                  whatever it is *it scares me

my thoughts are paper planes
that don't seem to see the runways that i drew
on the blank sheets in front of me.

I am a lot of things.
But not everything I'd like to be.
And in this I find myself
To be worthless. Boring.

I am not the crashing waves
I'm not the burning fire
Or the rumbling, sturdy ground.
Or the breeze or wind.

Why, oh why, can I not be
Everything that seems so exciting.
Why am I stuck,
In this flesh and blood?
Far away from my dream.

I'm afraid I'll end up living a small life,
in a small place,
and my small dreams
are just what remain.
That when I'm decaying somewhere
far underground and returning
to where I began
All I'll be is a small memory
in just another brain.
The words I've scribbled (or typed)
will all be long gone.
the people I made smile
will be all far away.
I'm afraid of when
my small spirit starts to fade.

"
There are two kinds of space exploration:
One: you do with physics.
The other: you do with poetry.
The best astronauts I know
Defy gravity with words.
And it gives me hope
That maybe I don’t need
12,000 kilonewtons of sheer force
To know the universe where I belong.
"

You came over and
sat next to me
I froze the moment
and that is where
i'll be.

I've heard people who are away from each other say-
"at least we're under the same sky"

but we're not,
because it doesn't rain here the way it does back home,
the sun isn't warm enough to tingle my bones.
the sky here bends to meet buildings and towers,
not the hills and mountains and their wonder

So I say-
*"but we're not. the sky here is different."

Sometimes I feel comfortable in my body,
and sometimes I feel like ripping off my skin.
At times I like what I see
I like what I wear
but then again at times I feel
like shattering the mirror and
the images in it.
Sometimes I feel like ripping off my hair
removing the fat with my bare hands.
But then I feel stupid for whining about
something so trivial.
because it's the inner beauty that counts
isn't it?
and after that I set off in another trail of despair
am I pretty enough within?

Maybe I wouldn't
mind being myself,
If others didn't have
such a problem with it.

thoughts hang around my head like an itch that won't go away
       and they're *making me scratch my brains out

Part 1

Because I was a part of my mother once,
and her essence is cherry blossoms,
her mind is  streaming warmth
and nothing that is from her can be insignificant.

I won't be plucking off petals from my rose
like those lovesick Romeos and Juliets on park benches.
I don't need luck and petal symmetry to believe.

I won't litter the petals
like lipstick marks or blood stains on white sheets.
I won't be placing them in a vase half full,
that's temporary.

I have a better plan in mind,
a better way to immortalize
my rose. Deep within a gift,
pressed between pages
is a symbol of your love to me.

another day
a few more hours
till this time comes again.
look out, for i will make
the same mistakes.
but these errors are not random
they are natural fluctuations.

i wish people still wrote letters,

i wish we still penned down our thoughts,
so that your tear stains could guide me to your heart
and the coffee or wine stains to those sleepless nights

so that the scent of the sheet could tell me
what perfume was your new favourite
and your lazy handwriting showed how tired you were

theres so much more of you on paper,
and theres so much of you i miss.

i find myself wishing,
that history does not repeat itself.
especially not
on the anniversary of sad events.

since it was almost exactly a year ago
that tragedy struck and lives
came crashing to the ground.

almost a year ago, and i don't want to see
the tears and pain resurface from cracks again.

i was told that she moved like the wind,
and her eyes carried whispers from the ocean that
her hands breathed like the leaves but

it wasn't till i saw her in the lights,
dancing as the music swirled around
speaking like she could chase away sorrows and
singing because the world depended on her words, that

her voice reminded me of the home where i belong.

I am my biggest enemy,
I am my best friend.
I push myself of the ground
And criticize my self.

Then I'm the stretched out hand
Who picks me and brushes me off
I say the words that inspire me
Make me cry at first, and then laugh.

No one can take me away
From the person residing within me.
It tells me what to say,
Also the correct way to behave.
It sees what my eyes see,
it understands what I feel.

The truth is, I rule me.

april skies have such potential
     and i never understood why they chose to waste
it away on
r
   a
i
      n
   s
when instead the sun can become a magician
and radiate wonders when it disappears

We are all so worthless
In this vast world.
Us,
with our puny bodies and big dreams,
when we look out into
into the infinity,
don't feel so powerful anymore.
But yet,
every time I look into a soul
I find another world,
another cosmo.
We can hold galaxies in our eyes,
and every imperfection a star,
We can feel as if
we have made a difference,
But not really.
We are yet too small.

We're here now,
and theres more than the two of us.
But there's one feeling, and the same ache
yet different struggles
- * -
We all think the same things,
yet in different tongues.
The histories do not include us.
Our taste buds have had to adapt to the wind here,
we have learnt from the best of the chameleons.
- * -
It's the same stage set up and the curtains were never drawn,
but our eyes see a completely different story being played out.
Collective whispers greater than a shout.
Peace of mind has been a while, it'll take long...
Home isn't where the heart is, when the heart keeps moving around.

My heart at times
feels like empty skies
devoid of suns and stars.
Painted with clouds,
All the blue thrown out.
Like a slate wiped clean.
Sometimes you feel so much,
that you can feel
no more.
Not cleansed, not neat, not free.
You become
Empty.

Why do I need to love myself,
when I have your words comforting me
                 like the cup of hot tea in my hands and the blanket around me
                         this cold winter night.

Let me tell you about that fleeting moment
when I felt an emotion
that I cannot describe.

LIGHT.
drowsy and switched on by that little flutter in your heart,
the shine glides across the space
till it has molded the world
around it into warmth.

DISTANCE.
far enough to be another world, yet just close enough to be real.
the warmth is out of reach now
but we’ll get there someday, soon, but
the metres between turn my sight blue.

BODIES.
his hands twirling her and her hands guiding him,
their movements spell out words and raw beauty.
so while the world falls deaf to my ears and
their shadows dance with them-
I hear echoes of laughter, clinking glass and…love.

HAPPINESS.
I feel it all at once, yet the words escape my mind before I can
make a sound to spit them out, I don’t understand
what this feeling is.

It’s a wish to see that happiness reflect in my life,
a wish to not fear the future.
So I, a boy with the world at my fingertips and
a cloud over my heart,
describe that fleeting moment
in an attempt to understand it.

Step by step we move forward
Whispers crowd the atmosphere
With fire in our hands
and hearts torn apart
we keep looking ahead
we walk under the stars,
while you are somewhere beyond.

Sleep holds no comfort
Burning eyes don't
soothe the soul

Broken and jagged
pieces of me
litter the floor

No poem, no song
no kisses or hug
can make me feel
whole

Somewhere there is a piece of paper flying over an ocean,
over mountains no one can measure or name,
over houses that haven't felt a heartbeat
in years.

It's a paper with your initials and mine,
a message to me from you.

And while it travels over magic and forgotten adventures,
I sit in anticipation for those strokes of ink
on paper, and the warmth of your fingers
with skylines in my sight.

i am surrounded by warm bodies,
but i crave a loving touch.
the world is fast pacing
but i feel like i am stuck.

my stomach isn't doing well, and neither is my brain
                my heart just got up from a  grave, and oh look- it's falling again.

the regions that mother nature spares,
the places saved from raging oceans, and trembling grounds,
from erupting fires and disease and drought,

those are for you to go and ****,
with knives and words,
guns, bombs and
those are the regions for humanity to destroy.