Woh Zindagi Bhi Kya Hai Jismai
  Mehnaat Aur Dukh Na Hau.

Woh Zindagi Bhi Kya Hai Jismai
Aaassu Aur Dard Na Hau.

Woh Zindagi Bhi Kya Hai Jissmai
Tum Hi Na Hau.

Being an Introvert,
Doesn't mean being aloof nor rude
It is rather an art of living....alone
Our shyness is mistaken for insolence
And our being alone for having an attitude
Our trusted companion(mind) gives all the company that is needed
It fills us with thoughts so deep,
Another would drown in them
Feeling are so pure,
Angels would bow down to them

Some things are meant to stay, stay in your heart, caged, till the day your breath is no more pushing itself in and out
it's just free, free in air. Forever.

I want to escape,
from this hellhole of a cell
The bars make it hard to breath,
The air stinks of blood and the jailers wrath
They do not seem to notice my constant torment,
I hide my tears,
Cursing myself for being weak
I fear my weakness will only bring them pleasure
So.....
I wait....and wait.....for the day
When I can cry till my hearts content.

A catalyst for change.
Spared by
romanticized what if's
and shadow selves
who pass bets on
potential.
I am a cause
ensnared
by the razor thin wire
I walk.

He saw her again
  the girl who wasn't
    the imaginary one
she slowly sauntered
  through the fading
    of a dream
     to the other side
   and sat quietly
     at the end of his bed

Smiling like the Grinch
  perfect dimples at both ends
   of her sugar red lips
eyes as full as the moon
  ready to ******
she never said a word
  out loud
but spoke in perfect clarity
  to his heart

“What a strange joy we find
  in the need to love”

She stood and wandered
  from here to there
soft as a ghost
   she stopped at his bookshelf
running her fingers
  down the spine
   of the books
pausing from time to time
  to pull one out
   flip through the pages

     stop

    and read for a moment

sometimes laughing

sometimes sighing

sometimes hiding a brief sob

He laid under the cover
  of his blanket and sheets
    careful to be motionless
      fearing any movement
       would cause her to vanish
      from sight and memory

as if she heard his thoughts

  and perhaps she did

    she turned and smiled

“What good are our eyes
  when we look at the things
    only our hearts will remember
   and are memories anything more
     than dreams of things
       that once were
    played infinitely on the repetition
  of the waves crashing at the edge
and shores of Oceans End?”

She turned back to the books
  tilting her head
   continuing her ritual
she would occasionally turn
  fireworks bursting in her eyes
   show him the book
     she had freshly picked
       from the crowded shelves
      and then bring it to her chest
        right over her heart
         and hug it tightly
her impossibly wide smile
  growing somehow wider
she nodded with approval
  before turning
    and placing it back
      in the crowd

He didn’t know if
  it was night or day
   or how long he
    had been laying there
     watching her skim over
       pick up
        and read through
        book after book
       he tried to stop himself
      from thinking about
   the reality of things
of how she was

    the girl who wasn’t

     the one he imagined

when his heart was
  at the verge of feeling

     too lonely

     for too long

when he feared that
  the comforts of solitude
    would become...

      uncomfortable

And on cue she replied
  to the thoughts
   he meant not to think...

“Silly silly boy....
   who imagined who
     was it me or was it you...
    go back to sleep
   and when the stars
  have time again to dream
I will see you
  as you will see me...
    never more and nothing less
       than some imagined dream”

She hugged one last book
  and placed it tenderly back
   smiled as warm as the noon day sun
    paused at the bathroom door
      resisting the urge to turn around
       and see her empty bed

“who imagined who...”
she laughed at herself
looked at her reflection
in the mirror
faked a smile
an impossibly wide smile
and started to hum

“Somewhere”

and stepped into her shower
thinking to herself

someday...

someday...

I'm walking down a path
And along the way...
I just keep getting stung and bitten.

I'm enduring this path
But is there any point...
If I just keep getting tossed to the ground?