I used to be alive- now I'm invisible
your words were like knives
penetrating deep into my soul
I wilted, slowly bled
from your memory

but I kept coming back
trying to make my presence felt
my efforts were in vain
I was just a mist, here today, gone tomorrow

in your memory I was a spectre
a glimmer in the past, nothing more
than forgotten photographs
where you scratched out my face

I'm forever dead to you
and now I'm motionless
despite my pleads
which you simply tossed to the wind.

Quiet mornings,
Eyes glued shut
Warm things wrapping your legs
And body
Cocooned In heaven
And also
Late for work

If only it was real
if only it was true
Made to feel its me
but most is probably you.
If only I was wrong
if only this was right
if only we belonged
Where we pictured in our minds
If only you would answer
if only you would show
While this grows like cancer
Killing in its throes

She HATES him,
With all her heart and all her soul.

He was hopeless,
He couldn't do anything right.

When she was in darkness, he offered her no light,
Instead he joined her.
When she was down, he didn't lift her up,
Instead he joined her.
When she cried, he didn't make her laugh,
Instead he joined her.
When she was wounded, he did not cure her,
Instead he joined her.

In the end she couldn't take it,
She told him to leave,
For once he did the right thing...
He left.

Watching the flowers fall to the ground,
She realized her mistake,
His love, after all, wasn't fake,
So she waited...and waited...

She LOVES him,
With all her heart and all her soul.

Looks like the things he did,
were right all along.

You made a poet fall in love with you
And expected her not to write sonnets about your eyes
Haikus about the way you kissed her in the moonlight
Expected the fire in her heart not to inspire couplets
You made a poet fall in love with you, and when you left
Expected her not to write pages about the ache in her chest
Write a soliloquy dedicated to her tears
Expected her not to feel every gut wrenching moment of the pen hitting paper like your words hit her in the most vulnerable places of her mind.
You made a poet fall in love with you, and you expected her to be silent.
That is no fault of hers.

There are times that
I don't want to believe
in kindness
cause that is a word
meant for fools who
believe that there is
such thing as good

We believe in such
existence as genuine
as it, but later on to
see that we were all just
mindless, spineless
and filled with ignorance

We are all but arrogant beings
who swore by such
codes and ethics
and despise such
despicable behavior
yet hypocritical,
ignoring our sickening
idiosyncrasies

And yet, why am I still
a fool who wants to believe
that the world isn't as
horrendous, as horrible
as the world claims itself
to be? as other claim
the world to be?

Why am I still a fool who
still wants to believe in kindness
when kind words and actions
seem meaningless to everyone?

It's hard to believe now
but I still want to
*I want to believe in kindness