I feel ***** because of what you did to me
and no matter how many times I clean myself.
The image of your hands on my body
Never seems to fade away...

Colour by numbers,

             crimson shades are bleached.
To much went over the lines

I swallowed your poison for the sake of passion
so you’d see the way I’d do anything to hold your gaze
eyes locked in mine for all the wrong reasons
you’d call me crazy but at least you’re saying something
tell everyone how I’m insane cause you love messing with my head
I lost my mind to all your games but God I loved to play

My friends have all unfollowed me
on social media,
since I started following them on the streets,
on their way back from work,
when they're all alone,
unprotected from their deep sea thoughts.

They know that now I only dream their dreams
and live their lives,
like a professional xerox machine.

The world stopped walking and now it's planning its suicide,
hitting Capital points of its body,
every day.

We all have words but few own meaning,
we all wish for clean keyboards but
no one has something that isn't ***** to put out there.

We're part of a group of solitary mad people,
digital born followers,
with no one left to lead,
with no paths to choose from
and no clean clothes for the our own memorial.

the day we live in
is the day we fly.

If this is something that I want from my life,
if I desire of something like this to be a part of my life,
if I want something like this in my life,
then getting it by using the right way is of prime importance.

When intentions are clean and clear, then future is safe and secured.

Definitely this is not a desire and nor it’s a dream,
it’s more of a wish,
an ambition that has got a firm place in my life as of now in present.

The world is a fast changing place and definitely you are part of the race, once you have decided not to give up in life.

Failure is the first step towards success in life, if you have learnt a lesson from your own mistakes, which were made prior.

hang the clean laundry
on the rafter
above my head

tired hands
wring out drenched
sweaters

clothing above me dripping,
the drops fall on me
like rain