and neither the moon nor sun
can comfort me;
one heard my stories about you,
and the other my prayers for you.
The rain could not escape my memory
that you liked the monsoon,
The winds only held gently the expectation
of ruffling your soft hair.
The stream mimicked your laughter
which was etched deeply in my heart.
The sand under my feet told me when it met you
and the salt in the ocean whispered to me that
you threw your wishes as promises,
but wouldn't tell me what those were;
something about secrecy.
The air during my late night walks
reminded me that you walked these paths,
The flowers gushed about your voice,
the trees your jokes;
and then everything
crumbled.
as my mind had to remind me that you died,
and your image I had to forget for my sake.
snatched away so quickly,
I hate that, I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.

Look into these eyes
Behind all the wicked lies
Take a peak at the soul inside
A river flows as this soul cry’s
Love is a art that can’t be mastered
And it turned this heart into disaster
A person trying to take care
Who got caught in loves affair
Love is winding maze
And holds the feeling of saved
But a simple memory
Turned into a person’s biggest enemy
So beware
Love can the be the greatest nightmare.

Mirror mirror on the wall
Reflect my sorrows reflect them all
And when I cry when I scream
Reflect the way I think of me

Mirror mirror on the wall
Reflect the way in which I fall
But catch my teary eyes in sight
My eyes of gold reflect the light

I laugh—
Every time I’m on the edge of breaking.
When tears slip down,
Uninvited,
From eyes that were never meant to spill them.

I laugh with all I’ve got,
As if the sound can drown the ache—
As if pretending
Can make the pain behave.

I wear a smile like armor,
A mask of joy the world applauds.
But beneath it all—
Is a soul quietly screaming,
Begging to be held,
To be heard.

To be told:
It’s okay to cry.
It’s not weakness to feel.
It’s not a sin to break

Look at me I'm beautiful
Just don't look at my face
Or my body or personality
Or any of my mistakes

Just Look at me I'm beautiful
But don't look at anything I've done
Anything I despise and hate
Just to earn your love

look LOOK I'm beautiful
Just look at anything which I've dealt
But it's hard to say I'm beautiful
When I can't love myself

my heart,
it doesn't cry --
it stays
deadly silent.
like it's learnt
how to not cry
but instead,
ache quietly.

but my soul --
my soul weeps.
not tears atleast,
but in the way
that when i hear
your name
i flinch
at the sound.

theres no breaking.
no audible noise.
just a heart,
that folded in
on itself,
and a soul --
one that doesn't know
how to stop
feeling.

i heard my mom laugh
and it sounded like a cry
a lonely, desperate, desolate cry
and maybe it is because it was.
because we all laugh so as not to cry.

I didn't start the war.
I swear it wasn't me!
I was sitting in my bedroom
listening to music and drinking tea.

I have no reason to fight,
to **** or retaliate.
I despise violence.
And I also meditate.

I don't follow the news,
I'd say they rather follow me.
That is my only crime,
that I feel for the killed.

And yes, I cried when I saw
a woman holding her dead child,
her eyes were red from scream
to the silence of the sky.

Yes, I cried when I saw it,
I couldn't stop my tears.
That is my only crime,
that I feel for the killed.

i dont like the feelings you give me
like discarded gifts with ripped wrapping paper,
a "sorry" and a promise for more later.
anger builds like a carpenter early in the morning
restructuring and stabilizing walls i put up
for people like you, and i knew but here i am.
always relying on the world outside myself
to lend a hand. and *******, can i breathe please?
suffocating on everything you think i should be
where's the spiritual audit?
where's karma?
where's the righteous accounting for being everything i said i was, for not doing the things you think i did, and for not dying.
no cameras to show how ****** up this all is,
no one to hold my hand tightly as they say what i really needed to hear two years ago:
NOT THIS ONE.