When I think of you
                                                             ­                    I think of teacups;
for when my mind is blank                
                              
                                 ­  the thoughts of you manage to

                                               l
                                                      e
       ­                                                       a
        ­                                                              k

­                                                                 ­             inside my head.

Black paint allowed to sit and separate into
oily, bleary, sticky, sick gray.

Spring flowers planted a week too early
wilted yellow under the last snow.

Pristine term paper fresh off the printer, carried through the rain
bleeding blood sweat and tear ink into obscurity.

(That was ten cents per page, you know.)

i remember
the breeze on my skin
and the texture of the blanket
i remember
letting you in
because i couldn’t say no
i remember
feeling disgusted
and asking myself what i was thinking
i remember
finding out the word for it
a word i had already known
a word i didn’t know i could apply to this
i remember
writing my first words about this
scared to share my pain
i remember
the first time i lifted my head
and said “me too”
i remember
the first time i told someone
scared that they’d think less of me
and now
i am beginning to come to terms
with what happened to me
and soon
i will remember
all of this
and i won’t panic or shut down

Woke up on the edge of it
the sober morning light
woke up and felt assured of it
but it didn't make it right

So now I paint my eyes so blue
and they colour all my days
all I do is think of you
in the sunglass shade

Woke up with my mind set on
all that's come and gone
are you still listening
to the same old sad, sad songs?

Or does the sun reflect your mood
now you made it out alive?
Do you still need a drink or two
to fall asleep on time?

Woke up on the edge of it
the sober morning light
woke up and felt assured of it
but it didn't make it right

So now I paint my eyes so blue
and they colour all my days
all I do is think of you
in the sunglass shade

Last October, I deleted my FB account
just to satisfy my curiosity
how my days will be without it.
will I be tagged a Cave-man
or called the anti-social guy
or some pretentious snob
who wants to stand out in the crowd...

The first couple of weeks were tough
and I craved for that juicy stuff
and every time I opened my browser
my fingers would press "F" FIRST

In the first week of November
I wrote my first poem
not because I was feeling like a poet
but I had to channelize my focus
away from the topics, my friends discussed
all the memes that were flooding
the Viral videos that made them laugh a lot

On one cold night, when
I think the moon was bright
or maybe I was too high on ***
I googled "Start a poet's blog"
and I came across "Hello Poetry"
I am sure my stars were too high on luck

Before I published my first one
I read more than hundreds of them
Some poured them arranged
some had a celestial range
a few "songs for their lover"
some stories of "How it got over"
Many of these brilliant minds
have derived out a way
to tackle depression
and suicidal cravings
through rhymes and words
I felt this is one of the best
support group in the world.

The best of all, I was overwhelmed with joy
when I ran through the comments
and I discover this blessed group of people
who actually  cared about your plight
they shared their own stories
and assure you with sublime affection
that "you are not alone going through this"

This is more than just a poetry blog
It is a whole new universe
where the thoughts are profound
and your feelings really count
no matter how filthy it is
when you write them here,
It takes the form of fertile ground.

And this is home for some of us
who find the world too distorted
but cannot let their "waves" go free
for they fear for the judgment
and the social decree
or the worst of them all
fear to be transported to some
asylum for behaving like a "Lunatic"

Till time takes a turn
and normal is "the real truth" again
I will make this place my nest
and let all my chaotic vibrations
get settled and be ready to harvest.....