I have stopped counting,
the days, for they are now
just seconds and hours that pour away
into the blankness of life.

It doesn't pain me because it is an
understanding that for you
love could never mean anything
more than a prolonged feeling of monochromia.  

You have fallen,
and fallen again.
Love is nothing more than
a chasing game for you.

But if I had never
come into your life,
what could, in your ways of life,
it have proved?

Nothing.

It was the mischief of the cosmos
that wanted us to be.
Else the weaves of the universe
would come undone.

We have our stories
already written
by a known
hand.

All we are,
are characters
waiting.
Till our curtain falls.

Devouring every little thing you see
As it drowns to the bottom of the sea
Of those oceanic eyes of yours
Home of the lost souls
Reflection of the sparkling stars
Shelter to the fragile spirits  
It's only now that I'm aware
That the cold breeze I used to feel
Is nothing but the trembling fear
Of being haunted by the thought of you, standing so near,
That I might be captured by the sharks of these betraying jewels
Suddenly tarnished with a million bruises
Slaughtering butterflies in my stomach
But my heart won't let me surrender
Although it seems so weak and tender
They didn't tell me love was so vain
So will my brain spare me of this strain
Or am I meant to live in pain?

With every heartbeat comes a thought
Which reminds me that an empty space in my head
Still lacks the light of your soul
The one that blinds if caught
And it comes from the warmness that shines from your core
It knows its way through my heart
Like a warrior knows his enemy at war
Then it paralyzes my mind with the idea of your love
That invades my being
With every single blood drop,
That travels through the maze of life;
The life that looks so easy but is too flawed.
Like the love we share
It hurts while seeming oh! So fair
But I can't deny this fraud
That held me captivated in you
Not able to escape from what you call yours
So please just tell me
And save me from what is so sore
Are we in love or at war?

I live in a world
            full of people with your name
but not the way you articulate the consonants
            or the way your eyes dare
listeners to
            contradict your intricate intonation.

                      correction

I live in a world
           full of people who think they can have your name
without having your soul.

Dear Best friend.
                       I cried today.
Not because you left me dancing in
                another hemisphere.
Not because I receive one paragraph
       of sparse-nothing information
                   from you a week.

Nay-

I cried because
you are the kind of best friend
who wafts beside me
                                                                            (like that time we led each other with our eyes
                                                                                                                             closed through the
                                                                                        crowded theme park-full of nonchalant
                                                                                                                        cotton-candy-people)
in all my sly, lively moments
and exerts more merry influence upon my wanderings
than all the other

7 billions souls on this               [The Foolish Blue Globe]
put together.

to think
as you think
must be acoustic and harmonious

the nerves in your brain are the strings of a guitar
your thoughts, the fingers

This boy,
who had so much light in his eyes
whenever he talked about the things he loves.
This boy,
who was my best friend
the person I can share the deep thoughts of my mind with.
This boy,
who never failed to be right by my side
when I just needed holding.
This boy,
who was there to listen
to my pointless ramblings and complaints and curses.
This boy,
who put up with all of my ****
even if it humiliated him and most of the time, pained him.
This boy,
who invested his time
talking to a boring girl like me.
This boy who dedicated so much and cared so much and loved so much.
This boy,
who did not push me to love him
but instead tried his best to show reasons for me to love myself.
This boy,
who had so many ideas
kept all to himself.
This boy,
who put so much effort into helping me
that he forgets to help himself.
This boy,
who doesn't know how brilliant he is
but is focused on his flaws.
This boy,
who wrote beautiful poems
always unnoticed.
This boy,
who was so in love with a girl
that he was willing to die for her.
This boy,
whose good heart
was so tired and fed up.
This boy,
who wanted to give up
and give in to the voices inside his head.
This boy,
who carried so much pain in his heart
and hatred in his skin.
This boy,
who dragged cigarettes
in the evening hoping to release the pain.
This boy,
who simply wanted to escape
from the pains of feeling worthless and unrequited love.
This boy,
who was willing to free himself
and fly from the roof.
This boy,
who wanted to die.
This boy,
who was losing the light
in
his
eyes.