oh my Allure,
where have you gone?
I've searched every heaven for you and you are here to be found.
you have such radiancy people are fond of,
such a magnetic force people care for,
yet you whimper all day by looking at your reflection
is there something wrong in your sensation?
if beauty can be stolen it will be first yours to be lost.
your eyes are as mystical as stories i used to read,
your hair as soft as clouds i travelled by,
your intelligence as vast as ocean
so why do you cry
at words that pass by

i am a coward.
i admit it.
a meek, a chicken, a weakling, a craven
all the words which were associated with fear were associated with me too.
my trembling hands go cold, numb
after it stops. it feels motionless.
my eyes sees vision, blurry.
i stumble on ground.
my legs with no ability to walk makes me sit on floor,
the floor,
be it cool or moderate,
it always piecers my body.
i lose my reason and sense.
such a fear controls my body.
i do not know what to call this fear.

how can i?
i halt.
my pen stops and i wonder what to write.
so many mistakes, so many failures
i wonder who i am.
am i an example of how you should not be?
am i an experiment of how lowly one can be?
am i the one who is made to stray in open fields and fear?
i really don't know.
i question it time to time.
this too, is a time like that
how can i be so obtuse at times
how can i abuse my life
how can i be a ******, a fool, a witty ghoul
all at once yet
yet this always eat my eyes when i try to sleep at night

i want to whisper in your ear,
so close that my warm breathe makes you tingle.
i will whisper all my sweet nothings to you,
those will melt right in your mouth.
all my poetry is based upon you,
you are sole star in my galaxy.
who am i without the love i share?
who am i without the love so rare?
all alone i crash and rash all over the place
yet it is your gaze that makes my heart race.
yet again this is all a wish.
a wish won't come true.
so i find pleasure in wishing too.

heaps of jewels reach the sky,
gold dripping from scars
and silver stuck to teeth.
Stars in galaxy scorn over them as they laugh.
I plead in silence.
In dead silence.
In a world of described darkness and i see them brunch.
Munch.
They munch on all edibles.
Edibles i've heard.
One by one everyone disappeared.
i know the reason and the truth
but could not speak up and shoot.
I knew about them.
I know about them.

out of all the people who have seen me,
why did he made me feel seen?
He saw me as a evergreen paradise, always beaming up to dream.
He stared at me,
prolonged,
as i'm the ruthless star crashing through the galaxy.
A thousand words of coursety,
letters of love.
A million actions of care,
a zillion praises to drown in but
why does his look of wonder fill up my anxious soul?
why had he become the Sol to my Soul?

so my parents blabbered about how the enormous love they shared resulted me to existence.
Their faces were covered with brilliant smiles and i saw love radiant in them.
Though i couldn't pinpoint their pastel lies made in paradise.
Those shades of blue hovered through the sky
and drops of hatred made me cry.
Its thunder made my ears bleed,
its lightning made my eyes sore.
I am no child of love.
I am the child of hatred my mother bore.

All this praise is a slow poison which cripples under my skin.
You can not see and can not feel
  but you will see its appeal.
It dazzles the one who lays its eyes upon and
glances surfaces by its arrival.
Oh and
oh and
oh and
oh how i grovel upon its arrival as it may gesture empathy but it is not.
i slowly decompose in its sedimentation.
It is a disguise.
A disguise.
One must not fall yet i fall.
I fall and fail.
Fall and fail.
Fall and fail.
Fall and fail.
How many times has it been?
Since i've felt this eradicating feeling from my core.
Has it been moments ?
Days? months?
years?
My whole existence?

For a long time,
I tried to change myself —
the clothes I wore,
my hairstyle,
even painted my face with makeup
to hide everything I thought wasn't enough.

I thought if I were different,
People would finally love me.

But I forgot something small and true:
No matter how I change,
I am still me.

And the right person will love me
for who I am —
not for the versions I pretend to be,
But for the real, messy, honest me.