You are like my
favourite advisory column
among all of my
favourite magazines.

Sometimes the person you fall for isn’t ready to catch you.

Callow birds
shimmering highlights
of lilacs
on it’s busted mantle.
The lamppost tungsten
is a wax doll candle.
Paraffin paragraphs
jotted down on
clouds in paradise.
Throwing a tea party
at the neighbours lewd front lawn.
Resting place of
my weary head.
Wearing
our mountain tops//your shoulder,
my heart’s
hearth and
watershed.

With you,
I feel like my brokeness wears a disguised mask,
it doesn’t protrude out like splinters and spears
right through my rib cage where
thorn ladden tendrils grow, with everyone else.

With you,
I feel less broken.
Maybe even whole again.
Like I used to be.

Be kind.
Be grateful for what you have.
Be soft.
Be helpful because maybe you might be the only one who’d help that one person who deserves it but is afraid to ask.
Be down to earth. Stretch out your hand to everyone who needs to get out of the pit of their problems,
even if it leaves you weary and with scars and bruises.
Love unconditionally.
Do everything expecting nothing in return. Do it cause you love to do it. Stop wasting time with technology, spend it with people who matter and who love and care about you so much.
Even if you’re going through a lot, hold on, things will get better. Somebody will to be your shoulder. Maybe not at the moment. But somebody’s bound to come for you. Always hope.
Never lose hope.
Make your family proud.
Do what you have to do now.
Don’t let go of the people who mean the most to you. But know when to let go, if ever it gets to that point when you just know if you hold on, it’s only going to get toxic.
Do not be egoistic. People are more important than your ego.
Apologise.
Express gratitude.
Relationships are based on small things beside the other things.
Live in the now.
While envisioning your future.
Be passionate. Literally and figuratively.
Never give up on your dreams, no matter what others say.
If it matters to you, it matters.
Forgive.
They’re all human beings flawed, vulnerable, majastic capable of making mistakes just like you do.
Understand.
Don’t let the world change you, don’t be what the world expects you to be. Be want you want to be.
Don’t forget to love yourself.
Love.
Be selfless.
Be grateful everyday.

Relationships.
Tear it off/apart by
the dotted lines provided.

Just because I’m vulnerable
doesn’t mean I’m weak.
Just because I don’t cry in front of you
doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.
Just because I don’t speak up
doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say.
Just because I don’t react
doesn’t mean I don’t know how to tear you apart.
Just because I smile
doesn’t mean you can walk on me.
Just because I don’t hurt you back
doesn’t mean I lack masculinity.
Just because you say I am fat
doesn’t make me ugly. Not uglier than your soul.
Just because you say I’m feminine
doesn’t make my gender redundant.

I’m more a man than you’ll ever be, choking on your insecurities.
Getting kicks out of putting other people down,
everytime you feel threatened by the vastness of the world.

Just because I don’t stop you
doesn’t mean you can go back to doing what you did.

Just because I am me.
And not the version of me,
You want me to be.
Just because I am me.

And just because
I don’t roar doesn’t mean I’m not strong.
I’m more than capable of ripping you to shreds,
with my weaponry of words.

Just because.

I'd rather be  in the company of ghosts
than be among people
who make me feel alone.

May your veins rivulet with stars,
and the blood from your bones
tickle the moon.

Time is an illusion.
But love, oh love is real

The poignance of a well lit room
overshadowed by impending doom
the effervescence loom
the smoke screen hues
lyrical debauchery of the cacophony of the bees
the monotony of human bee-ings
the trees sway unrest
the roots melt with soot
the oaks bent their heads
raise a white smoke flag in silent victory,
Where are we lifeless or livid again ?
Are we questioning dreams of ourselves?

These veins **** as a toad hops,
onto the gravel of a broken pavement
from a shallow pool of naked warmth,
somewhere deep hidden under these falls,
a white sleeve of corporate piety;
human mirth of bilious greenery,
crackling like bones,
the froth of jealousy pools
as teary eyes roll over
rapid.eye.movement sleep,
it lurks behind crimson bushes,
eyes glinting like headlights,
glitter fury.

You’re an abomination to every blood-poem
I’ve surmised so far, no matter how far.
Your eyes match the size and shade
of my backyard moon orchards.
A satiable reflection of what we used to be,
In a spectrum of green.
I cease to be.

I
Heaven is the sparkling sound of your voice,
when my thoughts are overwhelming my soul,
the past is gnawing at my bones.

II
Heaven is slow dancing with you
with your feet arched on top of my soles
to the ambient theme
of your favourite jazz song
on a cold twilight night.

III
Heaven is your warm embrace
when I’m breaking inside
bones rattling, soul quivering
when I’m breaking inside.

IV
*Heaven is a place on Earth with you.

My tight pressed lips,
against Your tangent hips.
Our hands yield
to the symphony of surrender.
Lay your defences down,
Let our hearts pour out.
Scantitly clad souls,
Semi naked hearts,
Ever so vulnerable.

There are things
far more important
than ourselves.
There are things
that we love too much.
that it hurts.
even to let go.
In our midst,
it is each other.

''May I have the final dance under
this perishable moonlight ?''

Inversive spinal / F major chord,
Tumbling twisted caterwauling toads
Left turn right in the gut of the feels
Sawfish feeding on blood stained carcasses of piranhas
Strawberries from the garden of eden,
Birds cleansing their sins in the scorching fountain;
“Hell yes!”
In this ephemeral, fleeting light speed of a moment,
I need you, my Solis.
to shine your bright light
in the unilluminated, gelatin closet
where my frail body cringes .

Maybe when you stop writing about her/him,
When every dead letter is no longer addressed to her/him.
When you stop hoping that she/he is the recipient of your bottled up feelings as a message in a bottle.

Or maybe,
You will not.
A part of them will always linger, she/he will be braided with your emphatic soul.
She/he will be the ember that slowly fades with the darkness, but still remains as remnant ashes.
Maybe you just learn to unlove her/him.
But deep down you know,
you will always love her/him.
She/he is,
Sempiternal.

Sometimes all they’re on the outside
is all they’re on inside.
There’s nothing to dig deep
and search for.
What you see is what you get.

I lost the quintessence
of my rainbow beaded being
along with
the calligraphic indian feather pen.

The blood from my arteries
are replaced with black ink on paper.
The ingenuity of it all.
How much I despise it
the unoriginality ?

Not feeling me in my own words.

Part I - She and Her and The Shadow of She/Her.

Her soul, blanketed with strings of bittersweet memories of love,
picks daisies and puts it into the pouch on her left sleeve.
The daisies wilt.
At the scent of her self pity.
She is in touch with the moon and connects every constellation with the tip of her index finger and feels she doesn’t belong to the place where she is right now.
She feels unenlightened yet aesthetic.

She has an inconspicuous connection with anything and everything that isn’t
loved/understood by everyone.
Or maybe she feels they all have
one thing in common.
They’re all,
Unlovable.

Part II - (Illusion of/False) Hope

The feeling is curable.
Maybe someone needs to reveal from the horizon during the
green flash before the
be dazzling sunset
someone who ‘just’ needs to make her feel special, not even ubiquitously. Someone who would reach out their hand when she’s drowning in negativity.
Maybe she’s better off alone.

All she’s ever done is live vicariously/bottled up her feelings and self loath her precious self.
People stomping on her broken heart held together with double stitches and incisions, walking all over her, using her, breaking her trust, treated like she has no feelings whatsoever.
People replacing her.
Her dreams thrown out the window, shattering the glass and her dreams. The shards stained with the blood of her unfulfilled dreams is a constant reminder that no one is going to support her.

People leaving her, with deep seated scars and etching memories in the depths of her heart. These people are not mere strangers crossing paths on the boardwalk, they are the people who mean/meant the whole universe to her.
There is no shoulder for her to cry/lean on and rest her weary head.
No arms to encompass her feeble frame.
No hand which will fill the gap in between, her fingers.
Desperate calls rattling back as desperate echoes.
She has everything and nothing.
She has everyone and no one.
She’s alone. She’s used to it.

But every once in a while,
she wishes
she had someone who would
make her feel loved and
she’s worth it.
special.

If our love's a burning building,
you'd be the first person
to rush out at the stink of smoke.

I'd stay to preserve
our memories
To save all that is left of us
before it turns to ash.

Even if I get burned.

To,
you.

Part – I
It plucked every string of my heart.
She/It obliterated me.
She sang.
She sang for me.
In tongues. Which only She & I know.
She sang for me.

Part – II
As per inconsequential request,
We’re migrating to the moon.
Infinitely flying within our small infinite.

The crescent moon and jupiter
in tonight’s hauntingly beautiful, omniscient sky
gives me this fleeting feeling
of a temporary recluse of eternal bliss
from this scattered world that caterwauls from the inside out.

I’ll plunge into placid vacuity
and swim among the stars
in search of your abiding eyes.

Let us waltz in reticence,

on this ardor lava bed

hand in hand

with our fingers interlaced;

Into the depths of your fervent heart,

I whisper

“This is not the end.”

You were conjuringly special to me,
i convinced my vehemently skeptical gut that,
you felt the same way about me.
quite unnaturally/naturally, i was dolorously mistaken.


Turned out, i was just another…
To You.

She caught my dreams
with a net like
a broken winged firefly.

She stored it in
the mason jar
of her heart.

Lacking imperfection his un illuminating
yarn woven secrets speak spilling
silt that doesn’t even exist.

Inseperable the meta voltaic charged touch
of her skin against his blemished soul leaving behind
marks of polyphony with staccatos hanging by a pine,
gathering gusts of wind and rocking his unsteady soul
on the swing set into a leap into the depths
of the blue oceanic sky and diving deep
into her love
that binds him together
forever more.

Ever again her calming wind
shakes up the roots of the evergreen trees
in the movable earth of his body.

I was blinded by love, but I can still see you.

I
Oh life, you unfulfilled *******,
All seeing eye of admonition,
You unfair precinct of justice,
You incredulously cruel myth,
Oh, How I hate you
Oh, How I want to leave you
Oh, How I love your counterpart more,
Death.
She seems easy and trouble free.
An impenetrable kingdom of night.
I wish I could fade into oblivion sometimes.

II*
I'm three year strong of my grand depression.
It's not always there now,
but it is.
And so am I.
And so are you.
And so is my lacuna,
my friend,
who invivorogated my sense of purpose,
who gave me a reason to live.
She has been
My net I fall onto everytime
you push me down from the trapeze act of my passions.
The medicine that nurses my wounds when you leave me bleeding.
My ventilator as my soul was dying a slow sad death.
When you **** all my hope away
she plants it back again deep in my heart
impervious to your morbid touch
tightly sealed with her warm kiss.
I am scared to be happy because of you,
because every time I am happy
you decide to give me a new **** reason
to be ineffably sad.
You know where it hurts me the most
which parts of me, is most tender and vulnerable,
you know my weaknesses
you use it against me like an old friend who is now an enemy.
Why can't you just let me be ?
I'm tired, so **** tired.
It's alright.
I have my love,
and I'll make it through the day
and spit in your apathetic face.
I ******* hate you,
though you are beautiful okay.

Everglowing light sifting/bursting through the seams.
I see silhouettes of you/me.
Imprinted on the sycamore tree/big screen.

I feel trapped inside my own lungs.
Like a tribe without a leader.
A wolf without a pack.

I feel lost.
without
you.

These games you played
as a casual reckoning,
never ceasing
for one moment
to think of the mess
you would create.

Oh, darling
What were games to you,
was an endgame to my life.

Cooking up a blizzard.
Lost and unguided tendrils of space hold me captive,
the trebles of your heart beating
leads me back to my my Home.
That infinite gaze of yours into my dilapidated eyes,
is like a portal to you to look into my soul.
You blanket all my darkness
With your semi-pixie cut.
You’re my tree of knowledge
I bask in it’s shade.
Powdered Sugar coating on cupcakes.
Your silk armour protects your vulnerability,
My sincere apologies to all the arrows that gaped through.
Cover me under your angel wings,
Dab away my streaming reservoirs and replace them
with pollen and sweet nectar.
Your wishbone sacramental daydreams and dreams.
I feel so lost without you.
Bandage my old wounds with your tender hands,
Kiss me with your lush lips
sending jolts of star dust upstream,
within my veins dancing with yours palpitating feet.
My shot of euphoria and bleeding antidote.
My poetry.
You, Kalon.
Let’s raise a toast to your
beauté remarquable éternel, mon soleil
your free spirit,
your beauty of a ghost,
your heart racing with joy,
your heart steaming up with reticent sadness,
build up anger that come crashing down
like a typhoon detaching from the human perspecta.
I miss you.
Your emotional mess and literal mess,
I’m your magic broom.
You, my inspiration.
You, my groove.
You, my you.
You. My everyone and everything.
You’re fun filled supressed omnipresent electric feel.
You, The only Solis in my galaxy.
I love you.
Sharing your grandoise orangy tinge yellow light.
Bottling up a few star
in a bottle of red wine,
For her Luna.
Solis is 21 a (000,000,000) today.
**You’re irreplacable.

Goodbye, lover.
Hello again, friend.

Your eyes can implode supernovas,
summon waves at the bottom of the sea;
swallow the abyss in me.

I'm a wilting sunflower,
I'm an overflowing stream,
I'm a reflection of the person
you want me to be.

I think I'm you,
You think you're me,
We're the maple leaves drifting
among the ripples of the stream/
the persons we're meant to be.