He is her mirror,
The one she stands before
Whether things are good or bad.
Until she walks away,
She doesn’t understand
The cracks spreading
Across her face,
Ignoring the obvious
She applies more makeup.
Though she’s gone,
Her presence lingers,
Soon to follow.

In front of her mirror,
She could speak as freely
As she wanted,
Be seen for who she is.
In front of family and friends,
She’s quiet,
Acting out of appearance,
Ignoring the space, she thought
Was empty.

She doesn’t think about it
Until a friend brings it up.
Talking about her own love life,
A place she feels secure.
Her friend’s smile, big and bright,
While she speaks.
She thinks of him,
Her mirror.
No matter how bad she feels.
He finds a way
To make her feel better.
If something is off,
He’s quick to point it out.
He’s always there when
She needs him.
She never had to speak
To be seen when he was around.
The only place she only felt whole.
The cracks on her face shows

तलाश है खुद की, न जाने कहाँ गुम हो गया हूँ,
कभी जंगलों में, कभी पहाड़ों में फिर रहा हूँ।
हो मुलाकात किसी दिन, यही आस है मुझे,
बस इस उम्मीद में, दरबदर फिर रहा हूँ।

She stands like a tree in autumn’s embrace, Golden leaves falling, shattered in grace.
Each broken piece catches the light, A quiet beauty, fragile but bright.

Yet weren’t they lovelier when they were whole? Before the cold air whispered its toll?
A breath of frost, sharp and unkind, The ghost of her past still trailing behind.

The river hums with a story untold, Its waters deep, relentless, cold.
It sings of wounds she hides so well, A silent storm, a private hell.

She has friends, or so she claims, Yet loneliness calls her by name.
Her silence lingers, soft but strong, Like autumn days, both short and long.

But when the river’s wind takes flight, Rustling leaves in the dead of night, Her soul, so quiet, starts to scream— A soundless echo, lost in a dream.

She was never meant for autumn’s sorrow, She was meant for spring, for a brighter tomorrow.

The storm and the calm
In the depths of your mind, emotions collide,
A sea of thoughts, nowhere to hide.
You feel with a fire, burning so bright,
A heart full of dreams that take flight at night.

You walk through the world like a poem in the rain,
With a soul that’s both gentle and full of pain.
Lost in the moments that only you see,
A dreamer, a thinker, a heart full of plea.

You stare at the stars with questions untold,
Hoping one day, your story unfolds.
A smile hides the storm you can't control,
But still, you move forward, heart and soul.

You hold on to hope, though it feels like a chase,
In a world that moves fast, you set your own pace.
With every glance, with every thought,
You write a new chapter, lessons hard-fought.

You are the storm and the calm in between,
A story unwritten, yet clearly seen.
And though you may wonder where this road bends,
Remember, it’s you who gets to write the end.

I wish to be
Gone with the wind,
Swept into oblivion,
Carried by ocean waves,
Graveled into the earth,
Until I am nothing—
And maybe that’s enough.

The voice of silence cradles me,
Its emptiness louder than their shouts,
The embrace of a shadow
Softer than hands that never reached.

A fatalist—
A dying star—
Collapsing inward,
Not with brilliance, but with a quiet sigh.
There’s no light
On the other side of the tunnel,
Only echoes of footsteps
I was too afraid to take.

Hope flickers—
Not for salvation,
But for rest without remorse,
For sleep untouched by dreams.

Flowers fade slowly
In dewy spring fields—
Should I care for them,
When they bloom for a world
That never cared for me?

In a place
Where my voice dissolves into dust,
Where even shadows forget my name,
I wonder—
Is disappearing an act of loss,
Or simply a return
To where I belonged all along?

10-3-24   1:24pm

you have so much to live for
you have so much to learn

where have you been?
you drifted far
but the things you love
still wait for you

life waits for you
like a branch on a tree
waits for a bluejay

I wake to walls I did not build,
A space too small, a name too still.
They call me by a voice not mine,
A shape I wear, but never will.

The world beyond hums soft and bright,
A distant place I’ve yet to claim.
I trace its edges in my mind—
A whispered truth without a name.

The mirror shifts, the cracks run deep,
Yet in them, something starts to grow.
Not wings, not fins, but something else—
A self I’ve always seemed to know.

So let the door be rusted shut,
Let silence press against my skin.
I’ll carve a window with my hands—
And let the light come pouring in.

Forgive yourself
like the ocean forgives itself
for the wreckage it leaves
after a storm.

It crashes, it swallows,
it pulls away
and then it rests,
silent and still.

The tornado does not regret
its violence against the birds,
it only moves
until the wind calms.

Sometimes we destroy what we love,
tear apart the world
with words and silence
but we also heal with the same hands.

You are the storm
and you are the calm
you are the force
that pulls and the one that lets go.

Forgive yourself
for the hurt you’ve caused
and for the parts of you
that have been broken.

I stand alone, amidst the green meadow,
Grass embraces softly in its glow.
On the left, a cozy home,
where warmth and peace freely roam.

Blue sky,
shaping clouds with grace,
birds dancing in wind,
a lively chase.

Eyes closed,
the sun kisses my soul,
Eyes open,
I leave that heaven whole.

I write, unseen by all,
to know my truth,
I find myself in every word I choose.