I looked at the clouds
they moved
gradually

Then I thought
maybe
I have pressed the fast
forward button
on my life
while the earth
is actually
moving
slowly

Fear
made me
F$%k
the best
thing
that my
heart
felt

My heart
left my ribcage empty
sick of self doubt
and feeble bones
it went exploring beyond
its comfort zone
leaving me
with just memories
filling a void of
what was once
love

Someone tol(d) me:
"feel the love
from your (a)ccomplishme(n)ts
versus the love from humans
(i)t's way mor(e) satisfying, (l)ovely"

Today,
I thank you

Emotional sadism
has seduced me
time and time again
to fall for the pain
that still makes me
feel
leading me to
let go of all things selfish
and attach myself
to the "selfless"

In poetry
nothing
can
reflect
anything

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

You strummed my chords
and played the song of lust
my body complied
controlled my being
moans and such
you held me yesterday
stretched me
cupped my neck
rested your fingers
on my lips
you strummed
and slid the rest
up and down my frets
I feared no more
my body jolted
with the thunder outside
as he strummed my delicate lips
down there
tears wet his fingers
it wasn't the song of lust
no more
it was different
he was clueless
that tonight
he was playing
the blues
instead

She never knew how much fire
she had inside
She was never told
to dim the flame
She was always burning

Burning everything she touched
melting hearts and igniting wild fires

She was never told to be careful
"not to play with fire"
for she was an expert
that meddled with danger

She was never told to silence the sparks
she let them echo in places where
they'd reach those who need some
spark in their lives

She kept going
moving forward, fire never leans back
She held on catalysts
that fed her flames
She grew more and more
for she was never told to settle for less

She was a fire sign too
what a coincidence
she sometimes found solace in reading
her compatible partner
but never relied on them

The spark of fire
in your eyes
unleashed
a series of
fireworks
in mine

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

You were
the most
colorful

but your
flavour
was short
lived

"unwraps another"

You spun me around
like a flower between your fingers
You dusted the remnants off of me
as you blew kisses

You carried me in your hair
as you walked carelessly
but thoughtfully

You gave me to your lover
smiling hoping, I'd give her the same
smile I gave you, when you found me

She smelled me
filling her head with scents
of natural seduction
that made her eyes dilate
and her mouth expand
from each side

"what's this?" she exclaimed
"that's love"
he said

Fool me once
shame on you
fool me twice
shame on me
fool me thrice
it's ok
fool me
four times
**** it
I want to rhyme
Fool me five or six
even seven times
so be it
I always want
to be a fool for you

There are some
things
my memory
remembers
to forget
and others
forgets
to
remember

I
for
got
for
mality
for
it fermented
itself
in
for
ming
years of
com
for
t

Locks of charcoal black
Sleek and smooth
like the mountain peaks
when covered with fresh snow
thick with stories of winter
my hands find warmth
running through

Hands ice cold
hold the chills
of the winter season
in his fingertips

As they glide
Down my skin caressing my curves
leaving a trail of goosebumps
one for every cold snowflake kiss

Rough and dry
his breath blows the summer heat
Off my belly
Where it used to settle
and nestle
tanning for hours
now leave my body
every time
he exhales
while he’s on top

Suddenly, it feels like winter
moments freeze
time stops
nature wears white
seducing him away from me

He’s waiting by the window
And I beside him
“It’s cold outside love” I said
He turned to me
exhaled a sigh of relief
“It’s the best kind, my darling” he said

For the "you"
not the one you wear to work
but the one that looks lovely
at first morning sight

For the "you"
not the one you cover so immensely
with scarves and jackets
but the one that dances in their underwear
on a lazy Saturday

For the "you"
not the one that wears the glasses
of work ethics
but the one whose fire
is wild enough, it makes wildfires dim in jealousy

For the "you"
not the one that ferments in silence
but the one that screams sultry verbatim
now and then that surprises
all those around

For the "you"
not the one that nestles in sobriety
from 9 to 5
but the one that ******* to the first taste of alcohol

For the "you"
not the one that's under construction
under the umbrella of perfection
but the one
that flaunts those flaws
on that runway
so seductively
it makes
perfection
curl in
envy

I caught my breath
chasing after another

I put my hand on my chest
to tame a raging heart

"Calm down ******"
I said

"But I'm falling"
it replied

It was this fear in my heart
and challenge in my mind
that pushed me
to sky dive
with my dreams
and enjoy
the fall and
hope for an
awesome  
crash!

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..

I stood next to him
and felt the gap
of time difference

The Garden of Eden
could not match
her beauty
so it blended with it
and merged
her holiness
with
the fruit
of sin to
inject black
and white
in the world

It doesn't
have to
make sense
to make sense

What happened to you?
You were as strong as a granite rock
full of cracks, sparkly corners
yet strong and dense

What happened to you?
your heart was the therapist for others
immune to unexpected skipped beats

What happened to you?
You had it all planned
the blueprint, the 3D module
even the prize at the end

What happened to you?
You never needed anyone
you never cared

What happened to you?
You loved how big your bed was
versus how empty it is now

What happened to you?
You embraced your determination
then suddenly got sidetracked
by a passerby

What happened to you?
You learned the art of seduction
and heartbreak and inflicted it
now what?

What happened to you?
is the feeling of being alone haunting you?
is age creeping up on you like a perverted
murderer
wanting to slice years off of your life
without you even noticing?

What’s going on?
is this what you want to do?
stand up, from that chair of yours
grab your bag, take a step towards the door
and look back
marvel at that empty chair
and praise your God that it won’t ****
the life
out of
you

Get
out
while you
Still
Can

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

The raindrops
that slide on glass windows
remind me of your tears
pure and intense
uncontrolled and dense
as they strolled down your rosey cheeks
when you told me
you love me
under the sheets

I solemnly swear
for every time
my body craves
a taste of liquor
I put my pencil
to paper ...

For my days
are being diluted
I have no memories
my recollection
needs collection
from every bottom
of every glass
I drank dry ..

I need to put the cup down
and pick my
pencil
up

Flip me to the side
where my darkest days
have a ball

Flip me to the side
where my innocence
dissolves into mature
realizations

Flip me to the side
where my naivety
transforms me
into a woman of rationale

Flip me to the side
where my smiles
are only read
by those close

Flip me to the side
where my chest
holds nothing more
but tar infused lungs
protecting a heart
that's too strong
to be loved

Flip me to the side
where my anger burns
through the ocean blue
of my eyes

Flip me to the side
where I no longer
hand you my knife
to stab me
in the back

Flip me to the side
where you'd meet me
undressed from all
the chains
that held me back
from speaking my mind
because
"good girls
say nothing"

I looked into his eyes
and melted into a sea of emotions
fearless of the unknown
I floated over tears of confusion

I looked into his eyes
and
earthquaked his nerves
shaking his hands
as he ran them through my hair
Tangled
with years passed
and knots of "i don't knows"
I just lay there
quiet
the night
fused my nocturnal sense
with my day time,
this magic over came
all things shy

I am flowing,
floating.. wait
what

My fingers
drew futures on his back
and he was the star that won my heart
My fingers lingered, generating ripples
of goosebumps echoing all what he wanted to say
but couldn't
numb under my control, my magic
my human touch that's so rare today

My breaths created a language
that I and only know how to translate

My eyes, my hands
my body
him, me
night, day
stars
Dawn..

Good morning love,

Take it with a grain of salt they say
little do they know
that one grain
does
make
things
salty

I misread
a lot of you's
I proofread most of your mistakes
you ****** at grammar

I silently made my red pen dance
on your blue inscriptions
that you thought
were unique

I scratched the wrong words
I indented your run on's
I even added a bit of sincerity  
to all your reality

I stepped back and looked at you
you were blotches of red on scribbles of blue
you were a mistake
that I thought I could fix
at the end of the day,
I took that paper crumpled it
and aimed at the trash
and scored

My red pen yearned for correcting many more
but my red pen gave up scratching
and wanted to create its own story
of its very own mistakes
of its own doing,
so it can create a masterpiece of
"me"

"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

It burned
at the back of my throat
like a lump of cancer
killing every living cell of hope
I had for
myself

Can this be the cycle I feared
the one that bites you in the ***
after years of planning
and assessing?

Why have I found myself
rotting in this chair, scarring my eye sight
drying my creative juices
guideline by guideline?

I did the mistake
of thinking you're like me
and I am like you
little did I know
that you
celebrated Halloween
all year
long

I drew a halo
over your head
to show
the world that side
and keep
the demons for me

One hand
loses itself
in straight lines
as they curve
around that white
paper connecting
his mind to paper

While the other
taps, in synch
with those thoughts
balancing his being
between art
and
reality

"What is your greatest fear?" he asked.

"For words to flee" she said.

It's funny
that inspiration
only knocks on
the doors of your mind
in times of heartache
in times of heartbeats
but never
in times of peace
... and as twisted as it sounds
I like that