And then
I said,
"All my poetry
is not
fictional"
putting all
these short
little bursts
of inspiration
in a different
perspective

When I fear my heart
has become too small
for the love
it carries
failing
to
express
the muchness
of
it
all

It felt weird
when my heart
left its type
and fell
for a whole
new font
that read
differently

I never ate my emotions
I starved them
That's also an
Emotional Disorder

Of all the flags
that I have seen
red, green, purple, blue
and God knows what
none did I collect
for I think
the color
I desire
is being
created

It's funny
how “find”
has an
"eye"
in it!

Wonderful things come out of the darkness
to show us that they too try.

Wonderful things come out of darkness
to show us that they too love what we love.

Wonderful things come out of the darkness
to show us that we're not that different.

Love you little anglerfish!

Why do we say
"before my eyes"
when everything happens
in front of our eyes?

And then I heard
her heart
through
the screams
that trickled
down her cheeks

She speaks...

The further
I moved away
from my traumata
the closer I see
them running towards me

It’s like a parasitic
relationship
I let them happen
I let them stay
thinking that
if I bought them
a jersey
with
“norm” stitched on it
I would fall for
their play

I am a mess
aligned
in stanzas

Maybe this time
I look at
"unlove"
with a heart
because I have
shared time with
it
and I believe
the strength
"unlove"
gave me
is the one
that propelled
into a passion
to appreciate
the "love"
that is a huge
part of that
un-feeling

I lost touch
with
my to-do list
only to find
myself
found
in my
to-live
list

(U)ltimatel(y)
is a word
whose control
lies in the
the first letter
and reasoning is
questioned by the last

"I am over the moon", love said
"But how can you breathe?" logic asked

"I can't", love smiled
"How are you alive?", logic asked

"I am catching my breath", love replied
"Up there?", logic replied

"Weightlessly",
love closed its eyes
and fell

I feel dumb
because
the blood isn't
making it to my brain
it's rerouting itself
to where
it's pumped
and I
feel
light-headed

*falls

".............",
his eyes said
without
saying

"and I, you",
I sighed
with
saying

Go to where
poetry is aroused
that's where misery
drinks with company
and over-thinking
smokes with assumptions

That's where the heart
over-fills drinks
to the brim
with
"is this right?"

and wets papers
with poetry
that questions
its creator

This time,
I wore
a parachute
before
I jumped
off the
edge
of
fa
ll
in
g

Does maturity
dress itself
just to fit in
while your
raw
spirit
undresses it
every
single
time?

If vines
get pruned
should we
do the same
to regrow
healthier
thoughts?

He kissed
my flower


























































­















































tattoo.









­










*you naughty minds - smirks

"I feel old", I said

"Time travel" they imposed

"How?", I exclaimed

"Fall in love", they replied

You
confused
my pencil tips,
they used to write poetry
Now, they doodle in lines in bewilderment
aimlessly drawing the words in sketches of an amateur love

It's not the time
it's the toll

I gave my
gut
a voice
it
gave me
cœur-
age

Maybe my heart
was born too small
for the love
it carries...

That's why it
shares it
just to
give itself
breathing
space

"I oddly miss you",
words
slipped off her
tongue
like a waterslide  


That's when the heart
goes
"*** did I just feel?"

He played
with her hair
and poetry
untangled
every
"not"

I came
to the conclusion
one line at a time
tripping off
commas that
I thought
left me breathless
but turned out
they were
*******
the life
out of
me

The cat attacked the tree
everything came
falling down

The cat left
me picking up
the ornaments
and starting
all over again

Realizing that
I get a second chance
to decorate it
to put it together
again
in a different
way

*pauses and reflects
at healing in life

Today, I
put a full stop
at the end
of an on-going
poem,

the sad part was
that I thought it will
bleed beyond it,

but all it asked for
as a light mentioning
in pages,

I had to refuse
so I added another
full-stop..

RAISING YOUR
VOICE
will only
lower you
in my
eyes

Listen,
poems read
differently
when you're close to the poet

Listen,
run your hands
across my pages
caress the dents
feel the depth in some
and the lightness in others

Listen,
come closer
place your ear
on my papers
listen to the waltz
my pencils do
with every
stride, every curve

Send n(you)des
Send (new)des

Fatten my papers
with poetry
your name
is dense
it inks it
differently

Let's make
love
in wa(y)s
that
p(o)ets
fail
to p(u)t
in
words

What a word
It is deep enough
and when said
at the right time
it changes the narrative
paths, worlds, hearts...

"LIKE"
Not only are we similar
but the emotions
the word has are light and heavy
enough to show the likeness, laced with love,
with a heartbeat, a mind-beat

And adding the word "wise"
Oouufff
you have to be wise
to use the word likewise -
because for you to be
similar you are at that mental wit
to say it, feel it, think it

"I (insert emotion) you so much"
"likewise"

Now,
that's a game-changer

Someone told me
"love looks at decent
ones "

I nodded, sighed, and smirked
but love
made me
like
this

Unleashed my curls
broke my walls
shattered
my people-pleasing
sharpened my poetry
silenced my loud voice
widened my eyes
encouraged my heart
undressed my façade
made me dance naked
in the face of judgement,
sing the songs of truth
and fall in love with
all things wrong
right, left, ugly, beautiful
and gave strength
to the choice that
always stood in the back
but now takes center stage

"Love left me right",
"Love leaving, made me write"
I replied

I got stuck
in a plot
                                        t
w
                              i                    
                                                s
                  t

and it made
me

A) Dizzy
B)  Sick
C) Light-headed
D) Aware

............(Answer)..............

I drink it
straight

I write 'em straight
to the point
bold, curvy, squiggly,
pressured or light
and oh
so transparent

Liquid courage
inked in my vessels

soft introductions
******* bodies
the outros
are mostly
unexpected

but they all
deserve a cigarette
afterwards

My niece
made me bangle
of letters, stars, unicorns|
and colored beads

Then it hit me
that's her poem to me
a set of random things
that sit beautifully
side by side
around in a circle

and I noticed that
that's the first time
someone wrote
a poem
about
me

Lust
is l(ove) (st)reet
without
you

Lust is
Lost
without
you

Lust is
life with
"I" (f)eeling (e)xcited

Lust is
flexible
but never
a sin
until
it is
with
(u)

Leading someone
on
feels
like writing
the beginning
of the
cutest poem
and then
it sudde.......

What ***** is that
poets don't ghost
because they
can't
un-write

I threw my heart at you
and you struck
a home run
and placed
it among
the
s * t  a  * r  * s
                                 *                            *                                   ­    *
                                                  *           ­                          *
          *             *                                                   *                                        

Of all the worlds
I create,
none of them
miss you
miss you

I grab my pencil
everyday

Shaky hands
bring down the lead tip
barely touching the paper
in anticipation
of inspiration

Bombs explode outside  
clouding the sky

I call my muses
to work
but
they fail to clock in
because
the road between
the heart and the mind
has been
bombed