The burden of carting your past around
Has made you weary precious one
It's time to set this heaviness down
Keep only the lessons and the love

Leave everything else far behind
You don't want it or need it
And now it's gone you can fly
Free as the summer bird

There are no constraints it's your time
You have no restrictions my friend
So fly as high as long as you wish
And let your wonderous spirit soar

Another night of loneliness
One more night of the cold
Gently missing
Your hand that I want to hold

Another breath of nicotine
One more breath in sigh
Silently wishing
That you could be by my side

Another call of cheerful laughters
One more call disconnected in between
Desperately hoping
You are still thinking of me

Another goodbye by the plane
One more look of your face
Naively anticipating
The day we both remain together in one place

*In love, in smiles, in happiness

i. you will miss him in drizzles and monsoons, in swells and tsunamis. you will listen to his favorite song for hours; it will hit you every unexpected moment. it will hurt, stab, ache, and you will suppress constant screams with strained lips.

ii. you will collect everything he gave to you and wonder if it is dimensionally real. you will sleep in his shirts, retaste saltwater kisses, and reread conversations as if there's something you missed the previous thirty times. absence does not make the heart grow fonder; it rips it apart and you cannot stitch the ragged halves with no thread.

iii. you will feel his touch presently in everything you do. it will be soft and cruelly comforting. it will constantly and inescapably linger. it will haunt you in early rainy mornings and dark lonely evenings.

iv. you will read endless musings on love and philosophy. you will entirely understand foucault's prison. you will live in steinbeck's tide pools and stars, and relate to simon bolivar trapped in his labyrinth. you will wonder why everything is like this, ugly and broken (and also if you are becoming delusional).

v. you will drink tea that scalds your tongue and stand outside on freezing nights, numb and overfeeling at the same time. you will ask the silent moon a thousand questions. you will see him and blink, head swimming, heart pounding in surges. the stars will wink and the wind will mock you.

vi. you will have blissful afternoons you forget and sorrowful nights you remember. it will still consume you in bouts, devour you in spells. nighttime will become both your enemy and remedy: it will wickedly remind you, yet help you heal.

vii. you will try and fail to make sense of him (and the universe in general). you will grapple with reality and yourself. perhaps you will never know why he stopped loving you: you will keep wondering how some things can just be left broken.

iix. slowly, slowly, you will sprout on your own; you will be tender and nearly whole. most importantly, you will realize his love brought you an entirely different kind of happiness.

ix. you will stop worrying and trying to piece together an empty puzzle. even the deepest scars find their way of fading. your mom was right: stop picking at the scab and your wound will heal.

x. you will learn to love yourself in ways he never could have loved you.

My heart began to flutter,
I actually felt it beat insanely fast,
I wished my lines were smoother than butter,
And I was scared that my heart would be in a cast.

But I had to do it,
To tell her that I thought she was pretty,
So I whispered into her ears - to combat the loud edm beat -
I leaned down, hoping that my voice wasn't ******,

The pretty petite lady whispered thanks.
I was in such a haste that I forgot so say my name.
I hope she didn't think it was one of those pranks,
Upon exiting the venue, I began to ponder whether my attempt was lame.

Oh, I forgot to tell her my name!
I didn't even get her number...
The thoughts rushed in and I realised I was no longer the same :
Confidence and I were on good terms and my shyness was numbed.

drag my body through the traffic
to the cathedral to meet st. jude.
count my wounds in the tear drops on your shirt.
i cry glitter now,
chasing dreams like a sleep walker.

these words hurt too much to write down.
too busy trying to make everything sound perfect
but too insecure to let myself fail.
so in this instance I just don't try.
let all of my work go unwritten
just like the scars on my legs go unnoticed
and my pain gets overlooked.
I'm not a good writer anymore
I don't think I ever was
but there are some words I can string
together like a symphony to make anyone believe in me
but this is just a facade
just a game we all like to play
but I'm out of chips now-
I have nothing left to give anymore
and I'm walking through life
like it's a keyboard I don't have to look at
because I already know where this is going
I already know where everything is.
Wanting to write reeks havoc on my insides
not being able too makes it all worse for me again.
I string these lines together but they're always out of tune.
my mind is always two steps away from every edge
I walk upon and somehow I walk over them.
Down for the count and I'm tired of writing in first person.
Tired of being this person.
my point of view is blurred
and so are these words in front of me.
existing doesn't feel too good anymore
and it seems as if everyone is trying to tell me otherwise.
believing them would be nice
trusting someone again would be nice
but these are not things my mind is equipped to handle.
So I try to handle as much as I can at once
and just hope it doesn't take me over that edge.
these hands on these keys make mistakes
but somehow I always know when and where to correct them.
being okay is such a foreign concept to me
and I don't have any real reason to not be right now
but i'm still not sure why everything hurts so much
maybe I haven't dealt with the parts of my life I should have
and maybe they're just waiting in the back of my mind
to attack the person I have become
because sometimes, in the dead of the night
these thoughts will creep up to me.
when I'm cold and lonely
they'll tap me on the shoulder-
remind me they're still there to help me stay down when I fall.
They know balance has never been my forte.
I guess that's why I can never hold on to anything

they    were      not      
     someone      you  
could        lust    over,  
they    were     fey,      
blood       not    running
   the     usual     way,  
they     made     me      
   dream    of    streams  
touched    by  moon
beams,    ice     cold    
  fields  at       dawn,      
every     season    I      
have    ever      known
breathing      within
    their     bones;    
dark      woods      were  
organs   once     stood;    
    each      touch    a    
   crunch      underfoot      
revealing   another        
layer  so       deep,      you    
doubt   you     will 
   ever      reach     the    
heart       of      its    beat.

She lost her mind caught in a web of lies laced with deceit
Tangled in knots made of suicidal thoughts left on the concrete

She lost her heart in the aftermath of an unrequited love
With more passion and pain than she could ever have dreamed of

She lost her soul to a man she didn't know and can never get it back
Crying inside and constantly on the verge of an anxiety attack

She lost her faith in life with so little to show for all that she'd done
Burning all the bridges she'd carefully built, fading away from everyone