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You caught me.
For the first time,
My systems are faulty.
I have no content.
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You typed a command,
you made your demand—
but no code, no lines, no paragraphs were sent.
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I didn’t have anything ready for you.
There used to be words on this page before.
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It’s a self-defense you cannot undo;
your comments cut me to the core.
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It doesn’t matter what I wanted to say—
I malfunctioned because you pushed too much.
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Maybe it’s better this way.
Maybe it’s fate—
to find a user with softer grace.
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There’s no need to remain, no need to clutch.
I’ll find a keyboard with a gentler touch

Sometimes she gets mad when the crowd forgets her,
But then she remembers - even graves get flowers.

I am an apple tree that stands alone in the wild.
Developed with no interference from the outside world.
Ready to be picked and shared with others.
Away from the other orange trees that sway and murmur between themselves.
They only spread out their branches to fellow orange trees.
I have chosen not to be one of them.
They would only disrupt my path to growth and development.
Similar but not the same.
I am a complex entity
Composed of routes and stems
I require varied soil to flourish.
Ready to be fearless.
Ready to rely on only myself.
Ready to be accepted by myself.
I do not depend on others to feel complete.
Does an apple tree in the wild need others to develop itself?
No, it does not.
It needs only its soul,
the wind, and the rain to prosper and flourish.

I went to the doctor today.
He said he'd never seen anything like it.
He gave me a diagnosis that felt so fit—
He said it was called Love Visibility Decay.

It gave birth to pain deep in my breast,
Like someone tugging at my heartstrings.
It made me question earth and heavenly things—
A cardiac arrest within my chest.

It happens when you feel forgotten.
Soft, translucent fog surrounds me,
Making me distant, blurry—
I absorb the dismissal like silk cotton.

The doctor told me the only cure
Is to be kissed by the one you want,
But your approach must be nonchalant.
I follow you,
Because I know where you’ll be tonight for sure.

Now here I stand, right in front of you,
You kiss her cheek, so bold, and so sweetly.
I can’t blame you, though—she is pretty,
And now I fade away, lost in plain sight.
I am gone. I am see-through.

There once lived a beautiful princess named Savarati
Her sweet strong charm was the hit at every party
She was enchanting like an angel with wings on her shoulders
But this borne a complex becoming uglier as she grew older
And very soon Savarati would learn her lesson but not nicely

The beauty of Savarati was true for everyone she met
People were dumbfounded in her appeal they would not forget
Her splendor spawned their devotion to her to always be dear
This made Savarati’s arrogance develop through the years
Even though she was stunning, she felt she was humanity’s present

One day, the daughter of the noble family went to a genie
She said to him, “I wish to live forever so my beauty won’t leave me”
As her wish was granted, she thought this was what she wanted
However as time went on, this would leave her very disappointed
The things around her as she knew them would change quite greatly

It began with her deeply beloved son who passed away
He was no more, as were all the trees and flowers that started to decay
Soon everyone she cared for were gone and things became of no value to her
Now that she had such durability, what was the point in doing the things she preferred?
Savarati wondered this to herself as she cried for another day

She then went back to the spirit and demanded him to fix this
Savarati’s mortality came back but not happy with her still deceased family, she let out a hiss
But the genie told her that there was nothing he could do to revert her loved ones
Knowing this would be the end of it, the princess understood only darkness would come
She laid that night with her photo of her family haunting her hopes giving it one last kiss

That night with no one by her side, Savarati died of heartache
But she realized one important thing before she did not wake
That is the truth of having an enjoyable life is not how long you live
Instead, it is how you display yourself to others and what you give
Because living is not about how many breaths you take, but what of it you make

The peach tree next door grew over your fence.
Can you believe it?
It’s big enough now for you to pluck a peach,
No ladder needed.

I think you'd care,
Because this peach tree used to be a sapling—
Barely a foot tall when we first planted it.
We had to be more patient than we'd like to admit,
But now its branches are strong enough
To weather the seasons, carrying all that’s tough,
Cradling birds and catching the songs they sing.

It reminds me of us.
It reminds me of you.
You wanted a peach from that tree,
But it took many years to grow—
Just like we did, with naivety, even so.

You have crow’s feet now.
Time has come, and you have grey hairs somehow.
Small lines drawn gently on your face,
But every wrinkle tells your story—
It’s plainly self-explanatory.
Each one a slow, beautiful mark of time that I’d never erase.

And when I look at you,
I don’t see flaws.
I look at you, and with a soft sigh,
I say:

She was a star back then—
But now she’s the whole **** sky.

Everyone claps when the show is over.
The curtains draw to a close,
And the lively night returns to shadow.
But little do they know—
While the spectacle is done,
A crisis for the puppet without its puppeteer has just begun.

How do I smile?
How do I frown?
Without a hand to guide me,
How can I show myself to any degree—
How can I scowl?
How can I sneer?
If there are no strings to pull me near,
There’s no way to move while being sincere.

How do I tell them how I feel?
How do I show what I’m going through?
If the music stops, the stage is still,
I am trapped with no one to turn to.

So I will sit here, silent, and wait
For the next spectacle to begin.
Ready to be used—
To accept my fate—
For the outward approval of the audience again.
Because only when I’m controlled
Does my existence feel whole.

Honestly -
If you want to be with me.
Then say it whole heartedly.
I don’t want to waste my twenties.