My dreams haunt me with the faces I left behind
I cry and demand explanations
Only to get a smirking smile and unspoken answers
That I try to decipher after waking  up
I wonder where did I go wrong
As I see people moving ahead with the speed of escalators
While  I struggle to build my own staircase
For an infinite stories of a building
Every room of which has self made wallpapers of exquisite metaphors about how I suffer inside my own mind
And keep doing so or else I will lose the purpose,
That sadness brought to me on my platter,
As I sat on my bed contemplating laughters of people,
Who once promised to hold on to me
Like a kite thread which is cut now.
So I fall aimlessly
Until I land in the backyard of a stranger,
Who has deserted his home for months now,
Yet I scream for help from bricks and branches and that garbage bin.
All of them lie fallen on the ground,
I find it hard as the wind blows and the ******* flies over  my face,
As if I once belonged to it.
Where is my redemption if not in sleep, I ask myself,
When dreams were supposed to be escape and not a web woven by the eight legged reality which stings.
My poetries carry the words "regret", "guilts", "loneliness",
Like a three meal which is important for nourishing my so called art .
I am scared to close my eyes,
For I will see my friends I miss sometimes,
But just like my chemistry teacher, I was a substitute too,
Till they met their desired kind of people.
I sit with phone in my hand
Tears in my eyes
Words in my mind
And that burden on my chest
As I see them making memories
And like a heartbroken lover convinces myself about why didn't they deserve me.
But everytime I drown myself in the memories
Without flapping my hands ,
I allow those memories to sink me inside this whirpool
Which takes me back to past
Where things were happy and calm like a lake on a mid summer day.
I eat the laughters from my childhood
Till my stomach hurts
And realise how certain pains are good.
I drink away the non existent sorrows
When the only misery was those small fights
Which were resolved before lunch breaks
Because sharing better food and better memories
Were far more important than sharing egos and denials.
I see how I used to write letters to my best friend
Who would actually cry when I would not talk to her
Maybe sometimes the value of a person is realised at the cost of losing him.
I see how my teacher taught us non conformism in a subtle way
When she said there are different way other than five plus five to make a ten.
I added two and eight and was shocked about the beauty of a simple equation,
Sometimes antonyms big and small add up to form a solution,
And so I tried finding one with my doubts and me.
But I fail like that origami
Which my sister made for hours
And broke as soon as I held it in my hands.
Things break apart in my hands
Like friendships, relationships and maybe the ship of my sinkin life which seems to float pleasantly like a duck.
So I try to ask for a hand
Who can keep me intact
As I scatter grain by grain
Like a sand castle made by a kid
Who didn't know things stand together with a binding force
And all the times
That force is love