A death that was foreseen,
yet a consequence was not,
The end of pain and loss
was met with acceptance and love
and inspiration slipped from my grasp
and I tried all the tricks in the book
to keep my pen writing

And I wish it were as simple
as going out and buying a new pen
From what source do I draw out ink,
when on the road to selflove and acceptance?
When old questions and doubts
have met with answers and a clear path?

While
Dancing to her own rhythms
Coloring her own rainbow
Wandering in her own skies
intoning her own melodies
Rhyming her own poetry
Telling a love story of her with her soul
Making all her heavenly bodies the brightest stars
She is  teaching  the world the worth of self love and inner peace.
               -diksha dhiman
#selflove

Somehow I got used to the aftertaste of been alone;
day by day
now
I see growth.
Feelings used to be all over the place
when everything needed some space
-   I needed space   -

I don't want to be wanted
I'm still not good at it

Trying to find peace
Selflove is what I deserve indeed

There is a hole in the world
All the doors are painted
a shade of liars faces
their colors while arriving
are also fading
but we are still here..
Where corroding slats of
63 year old wood
sound like the screams
echoing across
the crumbling pages of days
burnt yellow beneath the
fire of eyes
The purple pouring through unseen waves in the dusk sky as Janis joplin sang gray star clouds
into my heart
she sewed my wounds
with the ash of
of bodies adrift of lovers
living only in the mirage
air disguised
as smiles everlasting
glass of the
empty kind of love that lies,
and never breathes
yet forever dies
dreams devour you with
tears remembering the terror
in Janis's eyes,
she poured herself out
across the floor of the perishing world
while performing
"work me lord"
"live at stockholm 69'"
to the dark,
we were never there
we were born
into hands that were dying
we breathed our last breath of freedom-
then we were born,
It was then that
I heard the darkness cry.
we are dying..
because we have forgotten
the free gift given,
our lightless bones
loose around the spine
of every bolt we never knew,
strengthened our stance against
the murderous long night.
Choosing blindness,
over looking without sight,
The invisible mountain,
that breathed in our corroding
dusty hearts,
weilding love
against the demons behind
our mirror eyes..
Refusing to call his name..
we have lived for each one of us
just for ourselves  ("selflove")
so it is this then,
we have sold
our freedom
to the lie
named death.