She was mad. A mad writer spitting up words, vomiting poems, and finding salvation in her rough scribblings. Her days and nights were normal for she wore a mask throughout. A facade for everyone.

"7 billion people, 14 billion faces", she wrote once.
"And you are the king of double-faced people. Most fake." he had replied.
"Oh no. I am a queen!" she had laughed...

She scribbles down everything in her diary, or her blog, or her mind. It is what helps her maintain her sanity. But at moments when you are far, like very very far, she just cannot hold it. I have seen her dying daily, and writing your name with her finger on her palm. I have seen her gasping for air on the most normal of occasions, as if her throat was choking with a word held in, her chest burning with a poem unsaid.

It was you she had ever wanted, always missed, blindly loved. It was you who made her a writer out of a normal, moderately-concerned human-being. You made her over-sensitive. You killed her!

Somewhere inside of you
There is a small boy too

A boy who wants to be loved
A boy who wants his hair to be ruffled
Who lost his childhood
Only remembers his struggle

A boy whose eyes still hold
Dreams that he once cherished
Dreams that help him soar
Above his agony so un-bearish

He held on to that piece of sanity
Hoping his dreams would soon become a reality
Before long, the world and its wisdom came knocking on his door
Woke him out of his slumber
Shattered his tower and covered in fear!

So he now hides behind, doors made of steel
Reinforced with ideas that he's built his reserve
He doesn't need your love
He doesn't need your smile
You see his attitude is enough to suffice.

But catch him when he's down and defenseless
And you'll see the glimpse of a child so helpless
Who is longing and yearning to be accepted by you
With arms stretched out simply crying silent tears
One who'll never tell you his worst fears.

It takes that kind of woman to see through his facade
The strong walls of his towers are crumbling again
But he fears this loss, his control over his sanity
Its not long before, his succumbs to his frailty.

Serene
aqua marine pools
Undress my psyche
Shedding the skin
I let most people see
your breath hot & sensual
tickles the nape of my neck
Your intuitive hands explore my whole body
With delicious detail
The expressions on your face savoring moments in the dark
Each pause, shudder, sigh
Captivated in your eyes
It's never been like this
For me before
You make love to my body, my mind, and soul
Not the typical mechanics
Transcendent,  almost spiritual
Soul Seduction  
Truly bearing it all
So why am I afraid
To tell you
So terrified to fall ?

Walking slowly in the dead of night, hoping to get away
From the troubles I have in sight, wanting them not to stay
Disguised with darkness I tread upon this street so gloomy and grey
People I see there is none, oh what an eerie day
Continued my trip in the darkness, moving away from light
No chaos there just calmness, no need for proper fight
Weirdness present all over, not a soul perceived
Life has reached a closure, this is what I believed
White coats moved towards me in a multitude of sizes
No humans yet I see, a hand from underneath rises
"I think she's better and can leave this prison of hell"
They didn't know that I weaved lies to seem so well
Running out of confinement, they realized their mistake
Failing their assignment, allowing me their lives to take

The death of a mother, the departure of a father
A new family sans laughter-not a murmur.
Her ‘favourite’ food, polite dinner conversation.
Plunged into an ocean of fake likes.

Crushed dreams; words unsaid she kept,
Feelings and thoughts under a rug of misery swept.
Almond eyes so deep- they drowned seas.
Swimming in an ocean of fake likes.

Quiet prayers and hopes, tears never set free.
A mother’s gentle kiss now a distant memory.
‘It’s just the way I like it, Miss Lily.’ Cue polite smile.
Floating in an ocean of fake likes.

Head held a little too high, a tired smile on her face.
Pretty as a picture, not a hair out of place.
A facade so strongly rehearsed, yet so weak.
Drowning in an ocean of fake likes.

Beware of armour
that shines too bright. Who knows if
it's never been used?

Drinking bottles of Guinness
"Only socially, I can't stand the stuff"
Fatality in the finesse
Of 'classiness' and *****.

Smoky rooms and jazzy tunes
A cigar hanging from the lips
Fatality in the finesse
Of small talk and swaying hips.

Winehouse's drawl pours from the speakers
That are modern in their vintage style
Fatality in the finesse
Of hidden grimaces and fake smiles.

Every conversations the same
In it's lack of personality
Fatality in the finesse
Of sociability.

Well aren't you just a big tough guy,
no need for help,
letting everything go by.
You think you are like a lone wolf,
going at it alone,
not expecting a bone.
Well what if I told you that even wolves have packs,
relying on others,
having someone watch their backs.
What if I told you that it is alright to have someone,
to not always run,
to not need that gun.
What if I told you that you do not have to be alone,
that there is a person,
for everyone.
Well raise your head,
from the dead,
you can make out alive.
You just need to strive,
go ahead and take that dive.
Be like the bird stepping out of its nest,
you will not be a pest,
just do your best.
Even if you fail,
fall to the ground and break a bone,
just remember,
you will never be alone.