“Be yourself,”
But then they tell me to change.
“Be unique,”
But then they frown down on all my differences.
“Don’t conform,”
But then they force me to follow their standards.
“Always love yourself,”
But then they call me narcissist and arrogant.
“Be kind,”
But then they tell me to stop being fake.
“Just relax,”
But then they call me lazy.
“Work harder,”
But then they call me too uptight.
“Money can’t buy happiness,”
But then they laugh at me for not being rich.
“Weight doesn’t matter,”
But then they tell me I’m not skinny enough.
“Enjoy being young while you can,”
But then they tell me to grow up.
“It’s okay to be sad,”
But then they tell me other people have it worse.
“Do what you love,”
But then they tell me I’ll never be successful.
“You’ll be okay,”
But then they leave me for someone else.
“It will get better,”
But then they tell me that I’m being overdramatic.
“Be yourself,”
But I no longer know who that is.

please stop
im done
i dont want to hear it
i dont care about the excuses

i did my part
i said sorry

i dont want to hear about why you cant

i almost had a midlife crisis and dyed my hair a soft baby pink

it woulda been pretty

pair it with a tattoo under my eye

a broken heart on one side

a sparkling star on the other

but then i thought to myself, it’s not exactly a midlife crisis if i’m only 16

more of a quarter life crisis

not nearly as dramatic

so i settled for painting my nails pink instead

Please carry me back to where I belong—
there by his side, in the safe shelter and comfort of his loving arms.

my words sit
in my head
crying and pleading
their way out.
who am I
to just let them sit there?

Her soul is tired now
and all she ever wanted to do was
calming her crowded mind
and resting her heavy heart

Her soul is tired now
and the only path she’d go through
was no longer runaway full of eyes
but an empty and quiet hallways

Her soul is tired now
and the dreams are no longer dreams,
they became possessions and hunger
that consumes her alive

Her soul is tired now
as the passion slowly fades away
and the flame in her eyes began to vanish
can’t you feel the absence of her warmth?

It's 3 am, when you try to seek for help.
It's 3 am, when you've tears in your eyes.
It's 3 am, when all the memories hit you.
It's 3 am, when you regret the goodbyes.

It's 3 am, when the darkness scares you.
It's 3 am, when you've noises in your head.
It's 3 am, when you miss everyone at once.
It's 3 am, when you wish you were dead.

It's 3 am, when you can't save yourself.
It's 3 am, when you get hurt a little more.
It's 3 am, when you just hate yourself.
It's 3 am, when you only feel insecure.

It's 3 am, when you love lyrics more, not song.
It's 3 am, when you only know what's wrong.
It's 3 am, when you are alone, no one to care.  
It's 3 am, when you ask if you belong somewhere?

-Paras Bajaj #PoetrybyParas
Instagram : @mr.parasbajaj