I was talking to my friend who “self loves” himself.
I asked him, why’d you do something like that to yourself?
He didn’t reply but showed me the self-made stretch marks.

I tried to ask him again (but this time hugging him and comforting him on my shoulder) “in no time he started giggling but my t-shirt soaked wet.

I asked him again “what have you done to yourself?”

He finally replies “it’s for deviating.”

Such an obscure answer, I know right.
But I wasn’t in his shoes.
He was a loner, a saddened person, listens to Taylor Swift, writes poetry to let it out. I don’t think he was someone alike.

Things were still unclear but it was late at night
It was getting dark and i felt uneasy around graves at night.

Its been 9 months and you’re back like a newborn baby,
Paid 3500 to exorcise you out my body,
To find the right key to open the door for you.

Not that It matters now.

Welcome back, anxiety.
Didn’t Expect you back so soon
Should I start from how have you been
Oh, I see you’ve settled in.

So much to tell you
Just knock on my door if you’re free
Oh I see how you’ve started unpacking the essential needs
I see trauma, I see bleeding too.
I see insecurities and my old friend overthinking too.
Welcome back I guess

Like last time,
perhaps this is for the best.

A link to tap, a signature to lend.
Do you think a house filled with old people care what you sign up for?
#notallofthem

Don’t objectify me on this.
Because, I’m tired of the same.
I see, hear and go through the same things.

I live a little far, but I see them all.
I appreciate your effort, you can keep posting as much and so much.

Don’t follow my faith, I’m ****** up.
Tried changing things failed every-time,
So please, Let me be.

But listen we are the system,
we are so is the system.

Irony as i put it
we are responsible for the things that are being done
far from our home,
or in our neighbourhood
or to our neighbour
or in our own home.

Bleed words on platform, at this crooked age you have all the rights.
But when you’ll grow up you’ll find the fault and it’ll be in you.

Blame this culture or that culture,
My culture or yours.
You’ll live around 50 and die.
Unless, you are in a hurry.

Waking up with the power to acquire the success I ran behind,
My head starts to spin as soon as I hit my bed empty-handed.

I ate my feeling away,
Digested the food but not the emotions.
Punched my stomach, just to stop my hunger.

My state of mind died,
while I counted the calories I consumed.

I lost nine kgs but I'm still sad.
Maybe my body wasn't the problem all along.
Maybe it was me, not accepting myself,
Whilst accepting people who really didn't care.

But I'm ready to break my boundaries.
I'm ready to grow and not just belong.

Dear trust...
This poem is for you.

I want to apologise,
for the mess, you've turned out to be.

Loved a person, but got rejected
surrounded by friends, but always got pelted.
Threw your best-friend for money,
building a body to look like a ******.

Ask yourself, are you happy?
Or faking to become manly...

Despite that, I gave you time and space.
You have stayed in my mind.
Rent-less and relentless to come out.
Waited for this phase to end, so I can embrace...

I forgive you.
For the monster, you’ve created.
Don't worry, I have trained it.
He's calm and chained.
Under control yet free,
something you can never be...

I know superheroes with real powers are a myth.
But I think you are gifted with creating pain for the people you love.

Though you didn’t love me
But always left me,
mad, sad and depressed.
And In distress, while studying for my exams

I cursed you for a very long time.
But 𝒩𝑜𝓌 your memories burned for the
𝐿𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒...

From rising up on a shiny day,
To lying on the bed to repeat that again.
Whatever time you say of your day,
You go through a lot of things you might not even know if you’ll gain.

Your mind is busy far away,
Analyzing and processing.
Understanding the things happened that day,
Soon to be rusted out and will be not good enough for obsessing.

The Time is changing,
Making your generation an older one.
The new Generation is leading,
Showing us as an old man who can’t meet up with them and run.

Think for a while,
What could have happened?
If you cared about what was happening on your time without being fragile,
You might not know but maybe it was your day
You could have grown through the day.

It’s me, the one nerd
Yes, who you used to throw your
hand made paper planes when I was concentrated in the books,
then pass your homework like I was your personal tutor
And made me cry on my way
back to home

It’s me, the fat
Yes, who you did not consider for cheerleading team just
because I was out of shape
And made me cry on my way
back to home

It’s me, the gay
Yes, who you used to beat up in the locker room for being
attracted to the same gender.
And made me cry on my way
back to home.

It’s me, the differently abled
Yes, who you used to punch,
slap, toss
anytime you wanted to do so.
And made me cry on my way
back to home


Listen to this, bully
It came to our mind, many times
to **** ourselves
because of the humiliation and the pain. but at our home door, we stood,
wiped the tears
because can’t show mama
that we were weak
and dad that we couldn’t stand for ourselves.

we did survive through, alive
but with remarks and scars
and with a shattered heart
-ache