Have you heard the news that you're dead?

The headlines read " College student kills himself ."

But It was supposed to be something like

"Selfish gutless ****** who didn't have the ***** to face his problems finally got what he wanted."

Yeah I never got the chance to tell you

How much I hate you

So I'm writing this poem right now

For you- the most selfish person that I've ever known

What were you thinking as the light behind your eyes were fading?

How could you not give a **** about anyone around you?

Your mother now lives with just the memories of her dead son

And your father has sleepless nights

Your sister remembers you during the spaces in between the seconds

They will forever be in pain

Just because your heart stopped beating

And maybe you deserved it,but they sure as hell didn't

Loathe,despise,detest

Words like these don't even begin to describe how I feel about you

If a **** had an ******* on it,then your face is what it would look like

Yeah that is how much I hate you

I was in your shoes just a year ago from today

The same place,having the exact same thoughts

The only difference is that

I chose the pen and you chose the knife

And don't worry,I'll say all these things right to your face someday

Maybe after a few years, maybe after many

But I sure will

Someday when we will meet again

Till then,I hope you rot in hell.

Hot coffee
Cigarette buts
Sugar cubes
Plastic cups
Lay there
Beside us

As - I got high on her lips
She - ran her fingers through my hair
Left - me more alive than ever.

We were breathing
As slow as we could
Hoping to slow
Time down with us
Hoping to be
There forever

As - long as we stayed
She - forgot about the world
Left - *me more loved than ever.

Does your knife still remember the taste of my blood?

I asked her how it felt to be in love and she said
loving and being loved was like feeling the warmth of the sun on both sides of your body
I was going to tell her "your shadow makes it impossible to have both"
But then again I didn't want to sound cocky

Whenever I think about her, my throat starts tickling  
So I guess the butterflies in your stomach feeling is all just a lie
For me its more like spiders crawling up my throat
And I would give anything for the fear to subside

After a very long time
Its finally healing
The black lump of muscles that pumps my blood
So I'll tell you about dealing with those ******* feelings

Just gather up all your feelings and pile them up
Then sit on them and start suppressing
And although it may sound a little depressing  
Trust me when I say its way better than accepting.

I'll be there
As the hours drift away
Cherishing the time we spent together
Forever and always

And I’ll care
Ceasing eternity every second
Whispering your name in my prayers
Forever and always

I’ll believe
Even through the dead days
That there is a part of me
That’s going to be in love with you

I took out my heart
It fit perfectly in my ****** hand
Still beating
And craving for some love
Like a fish taken out of water
Still flapping
And craving for some oxygen
And although there is plenty in the air
It needs the oxygen from the water
Just like my heart needs the love from you

Maybe you’re just terrified that the distance will take over the already empty spaces between your words. Then again, how close are they now? Should’ve never said them in the first place. You kept infixing the wrong meanings into the almost right words and that’s how you ended up here, talking to yourself. Do they mean the same to her as they do to you? How would I know? More like “what would they mean if they didn’t mean anything to you?” Whatever that is, is exactly what they would mean to her. I hate how you always make sense to me yet I’m the one who’s called crazy when I tell people the same stuff that you tell me. Wait, are you crazy? We’ve had that conversation already. Maybe it’s because you don’t say it the way I do. Or they don’t hear it the way YOU do. Remember how you “INFIXX” the wrong meanings into the almost right words? Why would you “INFIXX” my infix? I like that word. No, it’s not a made up word. And I agree. But language is overrated. Everything we’ve ever read is just a different combination of the same twenty-six letters. Wait, why do you always do this? We were talking about her. Let’s talk about her. I like talking about her. Why are you even writing this down? I’m about to post it on the internet. Hellopoetry? This is not even a poem. You could’ve paragraphised it at least. Is that a made up word? ...yes.

...I just fell in love with the words that you said to me

And with the moments that you shared with me

With the better person that you made me be

And with the thought of you and me being 'we'


Yes,I only fell in love with a thought

With the 'maybe' of the 'just us two'

But falling in love with you yourself was something I never felt

I just fell in love with the idea of falling in love with you "...

Can
       you
              please
                        turn
           ­                  out
                        the
                 lights
         when
    you
go?

Remember 4th grade?
When we used to buy those orange candies and the blue marbles
But we never had more than 10 bucks so we always had to choose
But I guess the times have changed
Because all we buy now are packs of cigarettes and cans of *****

Remember 5th grade?
I memorized the rare candy cheat and you memorized the master ball one
Oh the good times when we used to play Pokemon and zwinky
But I guess the times have changed
Because now we're all about DOTA and call of duty

Remember 7th grade?
You fell in love and  a week later you fell out of it
And then you smashed that thing... What was it? A photo frame?
I was just standing there trying not to laugh at you
And two days after that, you yelled at me for taking her name

Remember 8th grade?
We used to play basketball all day
I was 4'11" and you were 5'2"
And although it was just three inches
I looked like a little ****** in front of you

But some things never change
Like those marbles and the place where we buried them
I bet they are still as beautiful
As they were back then

Yes,some things never change
Like the part of my mind which memorized that cheat
A44A FB0B 6808 D662
I can't believe I still remember that ****

Yes,some things never change
Like the pieces of that photo frame
And the fact that you still hate her
And the fact that I still call her "The ***** who shall not be named"

Yes,some things never change
Now I'm 5'11" and you're 6'2"
But its still three inches
And I still look like a ****** in front of you

Yes,some things never change
Like the part of me which loved you then
Because I still do
And all these memories
that are made out of you.

I said I'd meet you tomorrow

But that tomorrow never came

I thought you'd be okay

But life is just a game

It was foolish of me

To think that you would remain

Because everyone dies

Everyone is mundane



You lived a good life

You lived long

In the end that's all that matters

So I shall not mourn

You taught me what strength is

That's how I became strong

*"And though you are dead and gone,believe me

Your memory will carry on

We'll carry on."

"Its just a room."
She scribbles her secrets on the walls  
And piles up her whinings on the floor

"Its off limits."
But somehow he always finds a way in
Every **** time

"Nothing much to see here."
But he doesn't leave
No matter how boringly stuffed it gets

"Its not even real."
But with the two of them in there
It feels more real than reality itself.

But all that comes out is a snippet of verse.

Awake all night
Practicing that fake smile
And I've forgotten what the real one looked like
Because I haven't used it in a while

It was 11:11 and my friend told me to make a wish
She said "Wishes come true!"sounding really affirming
But i guess these things never work
Because all i wished was to sleep and not wake up the next morning

"your eyes, they look like ****." is all they tell me
Desperation behind these eyes is what they don't see
"I can read your eyes,you're sad."is all they tell me
Putting on sunglasses, I'm like "Read me now *****!"

"The happiest of them are the ones who cry themselves to sleep"
But I'm so tired of being tired that I can't even weep
Staring out the window all night in this cold weather
All I wanna do is sleep for a long time
Like
Forever.

I just realized
    that all I write about is you.

Hands tied
Blind folded
And in pain
He sat there
As she explained
Explained to him
The rules of the game

“Every day I’ll cut off one of your fingers,
And you’ll count back
From one thousand by sevens.”
Going through her drawer
Of clampers and tweezers and scissors
She said
“Now let us, rehearse?”

She took out one of her knives
And oh so calmly
Chopped off one of his fingers
Asked “What’s one thousand minus seven?”
He couldn’t hear her over his own scream
She asked again
“What’s one thousand minus seven?”

“Nine hundred…nine hundred and ninety three.”
“Good! It isn’t that hard you see?
Now I’ll be back tomorrow
Oh, and this is just an experiment
In ten days, we’ll see what you become.”
He sat there crying in agony
Wishing tomorrow never comes

But it did, and he counted
“Nine hundred eighty six.”
“Do you know why I’m making you count?
It’s a trick.
I’ll tell you about it in the end.
Don’t bother trying to figure it out, you won’t.
So just keep counting till then.”

Days went by
And he was counting
“Nine seventy nine.” “Nine seventy two.”
As he was screaming and shouting
He lost all hope of freedom
At “Nine sixty five.”
Now the only freedom for him, was to die.

After ten long days
He finally knew what it was about
At “Nine hundred and thirty.”
She finally let it out
Unashamed as she explained
*“You see?”
It was all just to keep you sane."

Not your name
Not your nationality
Below all the fame
Below the unreality
Deep down
Who are you?

Forget your license
Forget your authorization
Forget your conveyance
Forget every legal documentation
Now tell me
Who are you?

Deep down in the dark room of your empty soul
Deep down below your average conscience
There are only the things you put there yourself  
All your unused options
And the unanswered questions
like 'Who are you?'


Deep down below
There are only feelings
All your feelings
That you chose to confine
But it really doesn't matter who you are deep down
Because nobody carries around a shovel all the time.