i always thought that i'd be the light of your life
like all other fairy tales i'd end up as your wife
but neither do i glow and nor do i show
the traits of being a soft-spoken docile woman
that would be best suited for you, my fav human
i am deranged and dark waiting for a spark
to light me up from within and more
and make me happy to the core
i am like earth in this system of yours
pining over you for so long because
i like the idea of having your sole attention on me
being the centre of your universe maybe
but that's an unhealthy obssession say i
and like the moth, i'm chasing a new high
only that i've hated loving you all along
manifesting by your side i belong
but we couldn't be any different know i this
and that's why i can't even imagine our kiss
because you're too sacred for a demon per say
and i understand your distance anyway, always
yet you're my unwanted muse that i can't not write about
even though i wish to stop and silently shout
it's frustrating to write and yet never be acknowledged
but maybe this anonymity makes me feel privileged
as i write these sentences for you to read
without you actually paying much heed
that you inspire a deep devilish part in me
and become the muse of my petty poetry

you want me to write for you
bleed away my soul impromptu
be your slave and serve you well
give up myself to dwell in your hell
do you want me?
or is it my attention that you crave
i know you love to see
my dead heart twisting in its grave
for you want me to be obsessed like the earth
who gives herself up for all it's worth
it wakes up and sleeps, smiles and weeps
in the hopes of a destined promise to keep
for all i want is for you to acknowledge my existence
and maybe only then will i give up on my persistence
but who am i fooling
your mere name has me drooling
in daydreams and in nightmarish screams
it's your name to which my heart beats
it's your name on my lips that i repeat

i admire you from a safe distance not because i am afraid of getting burned
a monster like me isn't worth your time
is something the hard way i learned

and when there's silence inside your head
you choose to be at peace instead
because all your words that remain unsaid
are meant to be unheard instead

it's funny how now when i pick my pen up
only for it to drain no drop of ink
not letting all this chaos out of the envelope
is now taking away my ability to think
for all these words stay jumbled in my head
creating pictures of unreal imagination
of daydreams and those moments i bled
i wish to write down this clotting confusion
yet fail i to form simple sentences
filling my bones with apprehensive
and all the while my anxiety eats me alive
i wonder without poetry how shall i survive
because without this i am fully empty
like a starving soul amongst the plenty

thoughts thought everywhere
but not a single word to write,
oh dear reader i feel i don't have long-
what a pity it is to have my plight?