There will always be reasons to quit. Sometimes, your body may even reward you for it.
"Quit starving yourself. Look at you.
You're miserable. Help me help you.
Just one smoke. Just one drink. And that's it. No more headaches. No more shakes.
You'll feel like you can think clearly again."
And your body's right. You will feel better. Because change can be painful.
Especially if you're trying to do it alone.
But the saying is true.
If you can push through the pain,
your body will be grateful eventually. And you will gain a new lease on life.

A blank page,
stained with black ink,
may hold more truth
than a thousand voices.

It can heal
when no one listens.
It can speak
when you’re too quiet.
It can tell
what hearts forget.
It can feel
what others never see.

Faint, feather, fierce, followers,
fill me with pretty words, and your heart won't break.
Hold me tighter, and I promise I won't shake.
Force is a sharp word, don't say...
Fall, fake, fail in your love, I stay, gliding through decay.
No end to your name, cause you're fitter without a daybreak, heartache?

Love?
Hope?
Faith?
All the same..
Do they exist?

One petal fell, the other rose from the ground.
But the timing was precise.
Something hid the linings from the petal
to manipulate its falling, but who was it?
No one saw or heard. They said the petal was too sensitive, it fell on its own,
but why was the petal sensitive?
Why was the petal in the wrong for falling?
But the falling had its meaning, a reason, that made it the petals hope not to fall alone, it had a reason to hide, but not the fall?
Will anyone see? Will anyone hear?
Why would they never understand?
It's small and fragile, but if it can fall on its own, can it fall by a throw
Who did it? Who left unscathed?
Who laughed? Who caved?
The petal saw someone, who was it?
The one who rose,
It rose after throwing someone's dream, leaving them in pieces, and no one saw true..
They just said, '' one petal fell, the other rose.

what do they write for me?
in the sky?
what do they have for me?
in their eyes?
where do i belong?
far by the gods and galaxies,
do i belong?
will i ?

It's not red, like they said.
It's white, green, pink, blue
And all other fascinating hues.
Not the grays I am used to.

I was told there is no air here,
Yet every breath is crisp and sheer
No masks, no tubes, no weight to bear.
Most importantly, nothing to fear.

I didn't need a suit or a flight,
Just a smile and a grip held tight.

On Mars,

Food overflows, in plates, pots and dustbins
Buildings rise, neither burned nor crumbling.
No kids with wounds from bullet strikes.
All body parts intact, not lost to war pikes.
The sky glitters even without missiles,
The dead are buried, not left in piles.
Huge cranes lift steel to kiss the sky,
Unlike ours, which lifted cries up high.
Here parents and friends grow old.
No blood-stained tents left to fold.


They said Mars holds no life.
What's this then? Afterlife?
I had heard a lot about Mars
Today I learnt Mars has no Wars.

i don’t just crave validation,
i need it.
i need it like some people need a drink in their hands,
i need it like it’s the cigarette between my lips.

it’s the air in my lungs,
my food and my drink.
it’s not just music to my ears—
it’s the only sound i hear.

i know i’m not your favorite,
not really.
but you told me i was,
three months ago.
and i wrote that in my journal.
i etched that in my heart.

i hold up my poems,
these nonsense words i call art,
and i need a compliment,
i need a hug.
so that i know i’m not just some girl,
the girl you whisper about when she’s not there.
so that i know
there’s a reason i give and give.

so that i know i’m someone’s favorite.