isn't it crazy to think
that tomorrow could be the day i fall in love?
tomorrow could be the day
i make someone my everything,
perhaps a classmate i've never noticed or
a friend who,
up until tomorrow,
was nothing more.
perhaps the barista that takes my order with a wink
or the cashier at Wawa
that rings up my lonely pint of Ben&Jerry's.
isn't it crazy to think
that  everything could change in a few short minutes?
by thinking that it could all change tomorrow
might just help you
get through today.

I feel numb.
I can't feel anything.
A poke from a needle, a cut from a knife
Even a hole from a broken glass and all the sharp things in life

It all started when I pricked my finger from a needle of a spinning wheel
Or was it when I took a bite from a poisonous apple?
Maybe from the moment I exchanged by voice for something dumb
Or was it when I chose to give up my freedom because of a rose?
Perhaps when I broke my glass slipper and did nothing
Or was it when I rubbed that fake genie lamp?
Perhaps when I laid down my hair for someone to climb
or was it when I aimed my arrow at a torn tapestry?
It could be when I kissed the wrong frog thinking it was a prince
Or was it when I tried to be someone else to hide the real me?

Alas! Indeed, I almost forgot.
That it was when I handed you my fragile heart.

And she wasn't seeking any praise affirmatively,
But what her body was on ice block ceasing; craving for insanity,
Insanity of "love" one of the unique curse ,
She had the thirst,
Of Station to the location for a pair of eyes,
Admiring inmost from blood to where the insecurities lies,
Facing towards the absolute sky,
Repeating the uttermost fantasies of her life,
Smiling and setting peace beyond a mile ,
Beautiful than thousands of successful rhymes,
What she wants I know she barely knows but she lies ,
I wish she could have a look through my eyes.

©akashmazumdar

We would be in the city of poets
and I'd write my touch on your skin
we may or may not have been on dinner dates
but surely we'd have all 3 meals together
you'd love the poetry I write
and I'd love the miracles of my talent
we'd read the same books
and study together
despite you studying anthro
and me science
but I am sure we'd find some common classes too
or the small gap between them
I'd sneak you into my dorm with my hoodie
or we'd drive off into our forever
one that we dreamed off
one that was a choice
one that you never chose

or maybe not
maybe

We'd be in the city of lights
the city that never sleeps
and I'd pick you up every other morning
and we'd have breakfast at espresso
or we'd sit in my car and have what your mom makes
we may or may not be going to the same college
but that wouldn't stop us from reading the same books
or going to food & book festivals
maybe even debating together in the same tournaments
your mom would have a face to my name
and mine would know who "all this" is about
we would fight but trust me
a kiss would more than suffice
and I'd sneak you out at 2 am
and we'd drive off to a now then
a now with peace & love
a now with your favorite music
a now that you never chose to be

but maybe
just maybe
either way

we'd both be left with a place
we could call home

Difficult
The way I see myself now
The way my life's changed
What some see as lonely
May be right
Maybe I need to be free

Free
To quote my own verses
Instead of taking film
From underneath someone
Else's tongue

Using hearts
As sleeves
Is my old fashion
May be I need a gun
So this amunition is aimed
At the right coffin
Instead of my own

The need
The drive
Where the hell
Do I come up
With those

When i've been
Feed through
My own antibacterial pasts
That I can't scrub off
This time

What happens when
Your life gets stuck?

Maybe.
Maybe it is not like how I think.
Maybe it is all just for the time being.
Maybe it is what I am meant for.
Maybe it is what I am destined to be.
Maybe it is all just in my head.
Maybe it is all unreal.
Maybe there's something more to it.
Maybe this is not the end.
Maybe there's still hope at the other side.
Maybe this is all just the beginning.
Maybe.
Maybe.
I wish maybe.

i'll tell your story
i'll weave no lies into the silken thread of your life's quilt
someday
i'll show you
someday
you'll see
the story i wrote
is yours

Am I really happy, independent and free,
If I'm constantly living in a world of, "maybe?"

my muscles frozen;
my legs locked;
my eyes fixed;
my mind inert all from;
my imagination of you;
my love