i saw this prompt somewhere,
asking me what i'd do
if i had nine lives.
and my first thought was—
was i being given a chance
to live as a cat for a while?

sarcastic, of course, it was,
but it really made me think.
so i settled down
and began making a list
of what i'd actually do
if i were to have,
not one, but nine different lives come true.

i believe i'd spend the first
living and experiencing
all forms of art my eyes could pick up:
reading and listening,
watching, looking,
visiting museums, talking to people,
asking the writers what gave birth to their empiricals.

the second, perhaps, i would—
put myself up and forward,
creating the same art
as i hoped i would.
and maybe i'd write
to the length of the night.
i'd create all sorts of felonies,
live somewhere unknown to horizons,
creating my life away.

the third was a confusion.
what did i truly wish to do?
maybe this time, i'd learn
all that there was for me to.
i'd look on and become one
among the smartest people—
to get to know what put them at the top,
and whether it was a life i truly yearned for.

the fourth came easy.
i'd be an artist,
a model or an actor.
i'd climb up high on a pedestal,
look at the faces watching me
from the crowd below,
trying to understand
whether it was really fun
and cut out for me so.

the fifth, i wondered—
what would it be like to live on the roadside,
barely surviving, dying the next day?
i'd want to understand the aches they go through—
those without a home, money, or food—
to perhaps help them better
and make sense of what inspired me to.

the sixth life—
i wanted to spend it being loved,
and being loved by someone
who wouldn't want an other.
just loving, spending my entire existence
there, physically and spiritually,
seeping into one another.
love was it for the sixth.
unknown in the end,
it finished with my sacrifice—
from no one but my lover,
whom i couldn't defend.

the seventh life, then—
i'd hug everyone i come across,
take away their pain:
child-like sorrows, grave depths of despair—
all kinds. and even as i end it,
let it consume me.
i'll have it known that maybe,
this way, the world will be a lighter place to live.
so when i take birth next,
someone could do the same.
and maybe we could share each other's sorrows
and laugh out all the pain.
let it seep through all the shared veins.
and maybe that way,
i'll spend two of my lives together.

eighth—one more to go, and then it’d be over.
so i lived in fear, avoiding getting close enough
to make anyone dear.
i wandered through the nights,
unsure of when i made this choice.
the mornings seemed scary;
i yearned for voices.
i found comfort in the lonely,
slid away slowly,
and let the last life catch on to me—
before i ended it myself,
i know it was lowly.

ninth life. here i was.
and i realized i hadn't chosen the previous three.
someone else made those choices—
who opted, i wondered?
who gave me those experiences i wrote?
suddenly, i realized it was honest:
the past three were lives i never wished to live.

this was perhaps my first.
now, i’m back in the present,
in my twenties,
the past years gone forever.

i don’t know how i spent them,
(i wouldn’t want to remember the forgotten)
but now i realize
all i yearned to do
and the fears i saw coming true.

i’m still here, putting down the list.
i'm going to sleep in tomorrow
and go to my classes the day after.
and i’ll continue,
doing all that i wanted to,
in the nine lives i was offered.

for i could wish,
but i was given just this one.
and i guess i’ll try to live
all of them
in a single one.

As I look up to the kindly skies and stars,
I wonder why we were born with fire in our souls —
A fire of anger, a fire of desperation.
And it seems to burn through every part of our lives.

But then,
I remembered how love calmed that blaze.
It kissed the flames that raged inside,
And hope came —
like a sea breeze, like waves —
soothing the scorched corners of my soul.

And suddenly, it all made sense:
That fire, that love,
That pain and peace —
They are what make us human.

They are what make us feel.
What make us alive.

The girl was only seven,
When he came into the picture
                      
                       Bribery by way of sweets

"Now I have her,"
He must have thought,
This was no mere caper

She wonders,
now,
if he meant it like that.
But at seven, sugar meant YES

i was sick of being
put in a box
labelled, ready to send.

i looked up holidays,
knowing if i didn’t stop,
i’d drop dead.

but even the thought
of going felt too much.

still, i clicked complete.
seats reserved
on the eurostar.

anything else
than being the other woman —
the one people fall for
when their hearts
should be sealed,
not crossed.

i need to reclaim
some of my old self
i’ve lost along the way.
maybe that’s a start.

it’s got to be enough.

Am I too young to miss the past
Am I too old to enjoy the rain
Too young to notice the change
Too old to be immature

Or maybe too young to think when to blink
in fear I’ll miss the bliss if I stop to think

Or maybe age isn’t real
Just there to control when we do what
When we should be embarrassed to cry,
or when to start to live our lives,
and with a blink of an eye
you’re caught barely alive,
wore out from existence of time

Came as a stranger, going like mine,
There wasn't a day that your voice didn't shine,
Life's playin' hard as it does all time,
Your help was unforgettable, truly sublime.
It's all like years but it started only yesterday,
So soon farewell came and you went away,
Even you've gone your bond is always in my way,
As I walked, I learned there's nothing like all day,
Soon or later everyone should face a d-day.
May be our journey was only until the day,
On my way thinking, I weeped at a slow pace.

Sometimes it's hard to see, to put into words just how much you mean to me.

three words, eight letters, three syllables

Time has been our friend, all but for a while.
I'm glad that I could be the reason you regained your smile.

three words, eight letters, three syllables

"How are you taking this so well?" I hear her say.
If only she knew I was in agony every day.

three words, eight letters, three syllables

You touched my heart, my mind and my soul in a way that I thought no one ever would.
It's just so cruel that fate showed us what we wanted, but to keep it we never could.

three words, eight letters, three syllables

You were the lock and I was the key,
Together it would set us free.

three words, eight letters, three syllables

These words I have rush endlessly around my head,
I dare not say them so I remain quiet instead.

three words, eight letters, three syllables

Into my life you came, my very essence you did capture.
So much I wished we could've had our happily ever after.

three words, eight letters, three syllables

You see my smile and ask if I'm ok,
But what can I do, what more should I say.

three words, eight letters, three syllables

A piece of my heart will always be with you,
To remind and reassure whenever you feel you can't make it through.

A piece of your heart will always stay with me,
To remind me of the time you set me free.

three words, eight letters, three syllables

I want to say it.
Lord should I say it?
Often I want to say it.
Vast amounts of times I've wanted to say it.
Every fibre in my being wants to say it.
You need to say it.
Only I can say it
Underneath it all, I ask myself should I really say it?

i had a set of rules once,
i don’t know if they still apply —
especially after breaking
a quite significant one tonight:
thing is, on the first date
you shouldn’t kiss anyone.

i don’t know why i’m bothered by it
when we specifically agreed
it wasn’t going to be one.