I accept, I'm in denial,
head over heels, madly in love
with living each day in the dark
The bite of truth is so much harder
then the occasional sudden bark
It's easier this way
It hurts less, makes the truth
seem so much less important;
until it's not
Denial felt safe
but never truly real,
and now the bite
I can finally feel;
the ripping of flesh
bit by bit with subtle nips
of truth
Dark was good, but grey ...
this frightens me
I have too many questions
that I'm too scared
to find answers to,
too many clues
that leaves me asking,
What do I do?
So yes, I'm living in no
Let fate question the answers ...


~ Priya 🕉️ Feb 19, 2020

when you told me you love her
i had to turn away
you said you just know
you two'd marry someday
didn't know what to think
didn't know what to say
just looked at you straight in the eyes
said "okay"

and i know you can't help it
because if you could
that means i could, too and
without hesitation
i'll rid myself of this tether
stop loving you for good

but we can't have everything
and i can't be with you
can't part with you, either
so i'm left stuck strongly to you
connected by some glue
while you make attempts to woo
her

8:47PM

Why is life worth more than death? Why is life more important than death? Why have we deemed death so bad? Does it get its negative reputation because its unknown? Because it's different ? because it's not something we can dabble in? We value life and despise death but without death life could not be. We exist because of life & death. They are one not two. We are scared of death because we are unsure of it; time ,time is a concept created by us to a sense of organization a sense of control in our lives. We do this for the future, we work , we study, we save , all for the future. But when is the future? Will it ever come? When will this utopia of a future end? How will we know when this future has come? We live towards a future we work for a future , we believe we have time until the future. But what if the future never comes? The future is the biggest lie life tells. The future is nonexistent. The future will never come. And when we are in our deathbeds we regret not living because we were supposed to “live” in the future. But the future never arrived and death came too soon. We accuse death of ruining our lives but did we ever live? If we spent our time working for this lie of  a future we never got to live in the time we did have. We merely survived. Should we stop surviving and start living instead? Should we give up our focus on this utopia of a future?
From childhood we have been condition to live life for the future. As kids we start imagining , planning this wonderful future. But for many that future will never come. They would die before they got to really start living-

8:25 am
Tuesday, April 24, 2018

His eyes spoke words that his mouth couldn't say
A warm breeze danced with his hair as I looked up
The sun stood on his shoulder giving him a peachy kiss
Chocolate caramel his eyes were but when he looked away they turned into glowing logs of wood
His hands tightly around my waist they stayed as he spoked soft words of poetry
Then a pause … our rib cages met and our hearts reached out for each other one last time
The stare between us was intense the type of intense you only see in movies, one last time our eyes locked
One last time, a goodbye kiss, gentle and sweet, taste of honey, the remaining color we had, spilled
One last time, a goodbye kiss

-sol

9:49AM
Friday June 22, 2018

You turned my hair into flowers
A metaphoric bound you gave them
They became beautiful flowers that you enjoyed watching them bloom
But when I saw them as roses with thorns that cut me
You insisted they were soft daisies that brought protection
And when i brought out the scissors to cut them,set them loose,
Your anger came as a storm hissing on how I could do such a thing
On how I could **** something so beautiful
I howled for their beauty is exactly why I cut them
For I would like a bouquet to fence around me
These thorny roses shall do, keeping others out
But you insisted once again that they were daisies
You insisted that they gave a blanket of protection upon my shoulders,
That the river of hair down my spine was all I needed to be beautiful
-sol