Cupid - Where are you?
Did you vanish in the blue?
Did you forget your bow?
Cause my heart is too low.

The sleepless nights
The empty sights
All Those come
But the leave me dumb.

Why is that I fall in love,
But they do not,
Why do your arrows curve
When my love has made knot.

Is it that all hate me,
Or just try to break me,
For all I can see
Is nothing in this endless sea

Find me at least one
Someone as bright as the sun,
Someone that would understand
The weight in my hand

>user logs in
>user uploads a poem:
Tell those you love they are loved. Make sure they know they are loved. Do good. Be good. You can. That's all the world needs. That's what everybody needs.
>tags it goodbye
>notes: my last
>12 views
>last online:
12 years ago

I am realizing that the times you spent with me,
Were more of a worry than they were any reprieve.
I guess hindsight is twenty-twenty,
I wish I had seen it sooner so that I could leave.
Now I’m questioning,
Did it mean anything?

What defines a friend?
What separates them from an acquaintance?
I don’t know anymore;
The ones I thought were my friends are strangers,
That I’ve never met before.
Perhaps, there were good times,
But they’re clouded in the grey.
Now I’m left with ambiguity,
To haunt me for my days.

Those times that you laughed,
At a joke I didn’t understand.
Dividing us further by our clear differences.
This lone wolf was meant to hunt on his own,
Dancing with solitude in the comfort of his home.
But the lonely monarch grows tired of his throne,
He’s frozen with fear, for he doesn’t know where to go.

So, what’s next?
How does the second chapter open?
Would it be simpler to just forget?
Or act bitter and broken?
I walk the trial-heavy road,
Of finding new friends.
I wish I were a bloodhound,
To sniff out genuine people,
Who could invest in me.
Authenticity is a rarity,
Amidst all of the fallacies,
Filled to the brim with irony,
And patronizing apathy.

It’s a painful search,
That leaves me questioning my worth,
But I won’t stop looking,
Statistics assure me,
That there’s at least one friend out there, somewhere.
I just have to find them wherever they are.
A friend is as rare as a perfect pair,
And they can be covered with fool’s gold.
How is anyone to know?

I want love. You do too, do we all? No,
Not me, to you. Apparently, I
Don't exist. Do you?

I could feel my love
That I don't have -
This being alone,
Wearing the open air
Like Nakedness.

Vision dressed in
Nobody, not even
I.


Prayers answer every god.

She whispers in my ear
Sultry and seductive
Secrets of her siren song
Pulsating through my veins
She's saying that she loves me as she licks away my tears
Aren't I so lucky

Her embrace, a strong sensation,
A shiver down my spine.
Her voice a revelation,
A peace so divine.

I rest within her lap,
Her hands cold to the touch,
Yet comforting to this weary soul.
What joy! For the love of my life,
Is taking me from,
Pain, heartbreak, sorrow, and strife.
As she strokes my head with her cold hands,
I fade to slumber in faraway lands.

I remember a day—
still and silver as morning light,
when my loneliness felt almost sweet,
a quiet refuge where I could lose myself in you.

At our parting you swore,
“This time, I will keep my word.”
You bound that vow by the wings of birds,
as if the open sky itself would bear witness
to the truth of your promise.

But I know—
you have spoken such words before:
to flowers, to birds,
to the old banyan that has stood a hundred years,
to the half-read novel gathering dust on your shelf.
And now I understand—
you are one who can promise anyone,
perhaps even love itself.

Tell me then,
in the end, whose promise did you truly keep?
Did you hold to it, or let it slip away,
just another small thing, too light to matter?
Does the breaking of words never trouble your mind?
If not, how can a person walk so freely through the days,
while the world grows heavy beneath the weight
of what you left unkept?

And still—
I remember the day you promised the flowers,
you promised the birds.
I wonder—did you find the road of no return,
or did you simply forget?
For you gave so many promises,
but not a single one was ever kept.

I went on a jaunt through the park,
And found a man dancing underneath the stars.
Two-step, and he spun around,
His feet were so graceful on the ground.
He looked toward me and,
Extended his hand.
I didn’t know what to do,
Was this too good to be true?
Of his motives, I was unsure,
But he had this strange allure.
So, I swallowed and decided then,
To reach out and take his extended hand.

We danced in tune,
Of a melody no one could hear.
We danced throughout the night,
And though he was a stranger, I had no fear.
We moved together like we’d done this before,
But, I swear to you, this was new.
I didn’t want to go despite my intuition,
Before I knew it, the sun had risen.

We met over the course of the month,
Same spot, same time, and if that wasn’t enough.
We’d dance for hours, starting at the setting sun,
And we’d remain till the next day, when the morning welcomed us.
I never saw his face; he hid behind a mask,
But if he didn’t want to tell me, I decided not to ask.
I asked his name, but he merely shook his head,
At the time, I didn’t bother to question it.

We didn’t care if people watched,
We ignored their remarks as they gawked.
He spun me round, up and down,
Lifted me high and I touched the sky.
I was alone, but I was found,
I felt connected and like I had a crown.
Our waltz was all we focused on,
His hand in mine, things were fine, or so I thought.

One night, I was at our stage, all alone.
I had been waiting since the sun set long ago.
He was gone; all he left was a note on the ground.
I walked over, looked down, and then looked all around.
I picked it up, saw what it said,
And I finally knew who I had been dancing with.
It said a name,
One, I am ashamed to say.
Solitude,
Had left me destitute,
Now I was truly alone.
He had gone,
Left me behind,
All I had was my own.

I stood up, laughed out of spite,
And gazed up into the night.
Had I done something wrong?
Did I step on his foot or dance to another song?
Either way, he ran away,
Solitude had ruined my day.
So, figuring I was at a new low,
And needing a moment of respite,
I decided to continue dancing solo,
Throughout the night.

I saw a depressed clown haggling
at the flea market for balloons—

Joy marked down to a clearance price;
he holds onto second-hand laughter,
and a fragile piece of air tied to rubber skin.

By each nightfall he flees, on a rusted
scooter cutting through town, and his
balloons trailing like tired moons.

The crowd never cheered him on —
as he carried the silence anyway with him

I waited, seated behind the arched letters of the cafe window,
riveted by others who moved urgently, soundlessly, beyond
the thick glass, scurrying along glistening sidewalks,
winding between glaring headlamps in the slick night

to lovers, to friends, to family, to home.
I remember no words, only the sting of hot coffee,
a hurried gulp to stanch the welling pain and to quiet
the certain quiver of my voice if left to speak.

Yet once into the dampness, standing together for a last time
in the crystalline night, the balance is seared into hard memory
as I watched you lift a speck from my collar,
grooming me, as before, and then a smile, wistful,

and you rose on tiptoes to brush a wisp of hair from
my brow and silently, hood now raised in the misting
dark, you found the sharp corner of the red brick
building and vanished.

I was born into a famine
that had nothing to do with bread.
Love was rationed in screams or absence,
served in scraps too small to even fill a sparrow.
It folded children into masks,
teaching them to barter their bodies,
their brilliance,
for one spoonful of being seen.

Starvation is generational —
My grandparents wore silence
like a second skin,
their hunger pressed into my parents’ palms
who learned to mistake
approval for affection,
discipline for devotion.

By the time it reached us,
the scarcity became lineage:
my sister and I
daughters of starvation,
gnaw on shadows,
calling it comfort,
rehearsing the same ache —
our bodies learning
to beg in disguises.


Late twenties,
and the fridge hums louder than I do
bones hum with the ache of it,
eyes swollen from begging the air
to answer back.
I peel the silence open with my teeth.
There’s nothing inside.
I am tired of carrying
an empty bowl across centuries.


I will not pass down
a hollow mouth.
May my hands
unlearn famine.
Love will be abundant
in the soil I leave behind.

- V