he calle me a warrior
just because i lived a life
harder than his

others commented
that's the easiest recipe of being a warrior

and here i am thinking
they have not even lived  through my struggles
neither they've faced my ordeals
nor felt my pain

how they have a right
to just pass words
that will stab like little needles
on my existence

making me stand as a question'
in front of everyone's eyes
where my answers will be treated as invalid
even before i will say them

that's not a warrior in their eyes
but a girl whose moves is out of their calculations
they just see me as nothing
and want me to believe that too

sadly, i am not easily influenced by someone's words
as i had so many problems to learn from
what was best for me
and i would call myself the queen who is skilled
in turning girls like me into an invlaid format
they can't decode

the goodness in you
will make you feel like
a true goddess

only if you will try to look it
inside your flesh
instead of other's

because your skin isn't rotten
it's going through a process
that will take time

as being a goddess
is not an easy task
she's good yet carries all flaws

who believes in herself
who stands up for herself
who take breaks when things get hard

she accepts the goodness
with all fears
she learns to face her problems

that's how you become
a goddess
who do good for you

there was a time
when we walked around
in the spring

when you picked flowers
to put in my basket
while i wanted to fill yours

just like that our love grew
too much,
that baskets couldn't hold em'

i thought that was a good sign about love
but who knew
unlike the birds who fly freely

those flowers will lose petals
instead of going with the flow of wind
they fall down on the ground

reminding us of autumn
every spring lover has to face it
but we couldn't

i wish now
what it would have been like
if we knew

being a spring lover is not easy
we have to go through every autumn
after every spring

a cycle that love will repeat

when they ask me about love
the liberation it brings
they forget to ask
the sorrows it craves for as a fuel
to keep on going

the look on their face
demands me to narrate a fairytale to them

sorry but not sorry
they've come to the wrong person
as i'll tell them
how love is not only loving your loved one
when they smile

love is how listening to their silence
when rainy days come in between you
love is being committed to them
as you will be the ink for their love letters

when you allow them to enter your life
they bring eternity to you
which will be full of
every color, every emotion
that you may not desire

but in the end, sometimes
love is all about having what's best for you
not what you think will be best

take a love story as your story
not a fairytale from someone's story

time is slipping out
or is it me
who is letting it slip by
consciously
knowing it's
consequences

no matter what form
of pain
comes into your life
pain is always raw
and brutal

can you hold my hand
when they all
want to
hold
someone
else's hand?