My professor tells me-
"You have to be a strong individual."
I arm myself, I fight my demons,
I strive for the dignity and worth of individuals,
I can stand strong
Because I draw my strength from you.

Weighed down by social realities and unjust inequities,
Angered at the politics of life,
I lie in anguish and sorrow
And in my sense of incapability and numbness,
I think of you.
You, who cries with me and makes me smile,
You raise me back to living
Because you believe in me.

When I choose to talk philosophy,
And struggle to articulate my confusions,
I can stand
Because I know you don't judge me.

I see a little girl, bathed in dirt,
Her only toy a stick picked from the gutter,
And I break a little inside
At what is, and what ought to be.
When I'll eventually be convinced to take up a role
In such games of power,
I know you will be there to keep me tied to sanity.

When I lose my faith in human goodness,
Eclipsed by the hunger of men and women,
You take my hand and make me believe
In the beauty of art, of language,
Of music that punctures the soul and soothes the hurt.
In a world that understands only violence and *******,
You show me friendship and compassion.

You could say it’s impossible to isolate oneself from the world.
You’re right.
But let not the whole annihilate the part,
Let not the universe overcome the soul.
When I begin to feel small and insignificant before the magnitude of life’s challenges and wonders,
You remind me of who I am.

We, who must share our lives with millions of others,
Let’s make our lives our own.
Why should the world bind us?
Why should life find us
Waiting for the world to change?
Let’s not sit through as the movie of our lives plays in the background.
With you by my side,
I can say loud and clear:
Come, let us stand strong together.

I inch closer towards the heat of your breath
that whispers across my lips
its beckoning
giggling
tugging
mischievous
delicious
this heat
It is all that exists in this moment
I have to have it
I put a fingertip into this fire
I burn
And it’s strange that want to burn
I have to burn

We play
I touch your face
You press my waist
When my lips should meet your lips
I turn and let them taste the skin nearest
Ha-ha
I know you'll get back at me for that later

We dance
Away and forward
And then the play stops
I have to have you
And I know you feel it too
I feel the urgency in your touch
In the way your breathing has changed
In the way time and space have stopped
It’s just you and me
Us
Our lips
Waiting to touch, to combust
We hear no sound
We see nothing
And then you're mine
In your lips I find the scorching fire I have silently been pleading for
It burns me and I want more
It’s our lips making love
And we dance once more
Demanding, giving, rebuking, thanking
No conversation can surpass this
It is our masterpiece
You and me
Us
We have created this.

Little bird, hold back your tears.
If you break down in front of people,
People will only sympathise
people will offer free advice.
It’s not easy, doing what they say,
It may seem like it’s pointless,
meeting people, going places,
When it’s easier to just sit there and
Stare at your shoe laces,
But you've got to hear them anyway,
Because you need something to get you out
Of that bad place you've been in all this while.
Baby, you need to get out of your own mind.

Let them flow,
But your friends will soon tire of watching you cry.
They’ll say, “Why don’t you just try?
Try to be happy, try to smile.
Let go of your despondent thoughts for a while.”
But the darkness pulls you away
Into the chaotic emptiness of your mind.
It’s always there, peeking up from beneath your eyelashes.
It only takes a moment to shut down the world outside
and lose yourself in your deep dark deliberations.
Baby girl, don’t go there. Please don’t.
It’s a bad place to be
And you’ll only end up alone.

I know that’s what you want right now.
You don’t want to think about the what, the when, the how.
Breathe. Look up.
You are miserable,
and maybe no one but you
will understand what you’re going through.
That’s ok. All is not lost. It never is.
Baby girl, you've got to believe.
Believe that things will fall into place
You don’t have to win this race.
Take a step, then take another
Keep going till you reach the end of the track.
Little bird, you've got to believe,
Believe, that you’ll get yourself back.

Behind locked doors she sits in silence.
It is the silence she craves,
the silence that soothes her broken soul.

There are times she sits alone and cries
For the times she has been hurt, the mistakes she has made.
Behind locked doors she is a refugee in her own mind.

Sometimes she simply lies on her bed and stares at the ceiling.
Thinking about everything and nothing,
About the beauty of life and the injustice in the world,
Trying to understand why things happen
Trying to find ways to make herself a better person
Behind locked doors she is a philosopher amidst the mystery of life.

There are times when she just needs to take a break from people,
When there's too much going on and too much to do.
Sometimes, it is only behind locked doors that she can be herself.

There are thoughts that a string of petty syllables cannot convey
There are tears that never appear,
But you can see them anyway.
There is a numbness that overcomes you cell by cell, inch by inch,
Like dark tendrils of despair and sorrow.
The possibilities of an alternate life flood your thoughts
And you cannot fight, you cannot win, you can only give in.
The  what ifs, the maybes- they are unforgiving.

Holding your hand always made me feel better,
But not today.
Embracing your strong body always made me feel harboured, safe,
But not today.
It is not enough, so inadequate.
This  is a sorrow that cuts deeper than swords.
A grief that claws at the soul like hunger that torments a lonely child.

Hell is what you fear.
Nay, perhaps hell is the fear that it will be worse than what you fear.
Hell is when you realize that you are not that strong to see this through after all.
Hell is when you can't meet your eyes as you look into the mirror, day after day, no matter what time of the night it is.
Hell is that seemingly endless plunge between control and helplessness.
Hell is knowing that you are responsible for your misery.
You can’t blame anybody else for this. Don't lie to yourself.
But then, it is at these times when you start the painful voyage towards Peace.
Peace is accepting that you cannot always be in control. You have to let go.
Peace is letting someone else carry your weight.
Peace is knowing that if you are the reason your life is wrecked, you definitely can piece it back again.
When you cannot lie to yourself, when you are bare and stripped of all pretenses, of all those folds that cover up your faults and sins,
You will find the strength to make a start.
You have lost much, maybe you have lost it all. Maybe you cannot afford to lose what you are left with now.
Make that your muse. Make a start.

Unending roads of loneliness
long dark nights of isolation
Tired of my failures,
I wait for a glimmer of light
that will stay a while.
Or will it be gone like the others
in another painful wisp of smoke?

I fall backwards,
into despair, frustration, waiting.

So tired of doing everything alone.
I'm waiting for someone
to take these weights off me
and let me lie in oblivion.
So many dreams,
but if i touch them
they bring back the scary reality.
My heart fears the hands of a stranger,
the smile brought on by mysterious words.
Can I trust again?

The darkness reveals my true self
my tears flow freely
There is none to watch them run down my skin.

In my anonymity
I pour my thoughts into nothingness.