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This morning on the train I saw a man who had lips like you. Slender and firm, lovingly powerful, perfectly matched for mine. A pang through the heart as he walked away - just like you.
My life is like sand,
kinda nice,
kinda irritating,
and very quickly slipping through my fingers.
I'm being buried alive.
If I scream under water,
Can no one hear me?
Because
They
Can
Not
Know.
Write about me
Hold the pencil (as if)
It were my waist
Whisper of your mishaps
as  if I were a page

And as your guilt trips
exude the  bitterness
of your heart...
allow me to explain
why you're in my thoughts
(But)

Graphite can decipher
yet so little
To write about you
(Your feelings aloof)
Would  be the story
at minimal

So, I hold the Pencil
Loosely, without claim
I refuse to explain lust
...
Next Time I write,
It'll be about us
I wrote this during my instructional focus class.  Its about this boy... He writes too; hopefully , one day it'll be about us.  For now, we'll be friends until he can forget about his ex.  I doubt it.
 Feb 2015 Nishat Firoj
ryn
\      .     /
   \   .    ^       /.. 
  =      <   •   >    =  
         /        V       \         
/  /
\ \
  | |
   \ \
   /  /

••••••••••
••••••••••
sparking at the end
•eating away at my wick•
forcing me into a backward bend•
now by the second I tick...•I am truly
seething•I am... TNT•I am so close to
exploding...•I am...incendiary•it feels
like a crime•but..............there isn't left
much room•it's just a matter of time•
before I finally decide to go...fizz...
fzzzs...sszz...fizzle...ssszzfzz...
KABOOM!
TEBABOH!
 Feb 2015 Nishat Firoj
ryn
Flame
 Feb 2015 Nishat Firoj
ryn
.
•    
re-
     kindle
    the spark
   that governed
    this game•the fire
  that once burnt as bri-
  ght as sun•all of this once
before, had a name•but now
is weak from the time it had be-
gun•there was a time when it wo-
uld consume•......it would defy the
odds....just so it could burn as one•
frantic and desperate for the magic
to resume•uncertainty has carved
itself into the heart that has come
undone•winds bearing ill no-
tions revealed as the enemy•
stitch up the gaps keep-
ing out the rogue
gust•
  pro
tect
  the
light that burns ever weakly•rejuve-
nate the spirit that harbours broken trust
•rekindle me now... i'm still in the game•
the heart                   save the     you will
isn't                              candle           need
ready                           and              to see
to make                         nur-              me    
sense                            ture             with
of the                             it                 this
dark•                             to                  in-  
                                    fla-              sig-  
                                   me•             nia
                                     ­                     as my
                                                         mark
                                                         •
.
She couldn't be a mortal, just simply born;
but truly a goddess, ignited, free from form.
-
The day the ground met with her delicate toes
was the night the stars aligned in symmetrical rows.
-
In dream, she dances and glides upon air.
Awake, she braids comets in the threads of her hair.
-
My greetings seem hollowed, I am drifting afloat.
The language of fondness is a lump in my throat.
-
Her outline is gleaming with a soft, vermilion luster.
Her eyes, subtle jasper, urges your core not to trust her.
-
Not a staza, nor an epic can contain flawless grace,
or the yearning I feel when we are sharing this space.
tlp
this is for those without the words to describe
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