[Yesterday]
I am surrounded by Individuals laughing
And sharing jokes.
But
Me and them were still ignoring the fact that
The people in front of us were only there to help -
Help us see a choice that could happen if we do
Make that one wrong choice.
And I do honestly fear -
Fear that one will still make that one wrong choice
And hurt someone in the process.
--
But today -
Today was an eye opener to say the least.
And at first it was painless and jokes were said.
But
There he was
An actual person
Speaking to us.
A person who experienced something so horrific
That you -
Yourself wish to never experience..
Ever.
And now tears were had and hugs were shared.
And a silence began.
Everyone was silent.

And I too was silent.

i often find myself thinking of your hands
sometimes they’re on my stomach
because you like to feel me breathe
other times they’re drawing circles on my inner thighs

sometimes i think about your lips
are they on my neck
or are they just on my lips?
are they speaking sweetly
or saying nothing at all?

i’m thinking of your hands again
this time they trail my body
and your lips? i’m thinking of those too
this time you use them to kiss my whole body

i’m thinking of you
and how all i want is you
i want to feel your touch
i want to feel your lips
i want you

Once there was a blue light
It shone bright over us in the night
Quiet in the midnight sky
When mankind was still kind
We looked not to religion
We looked not at tradition
We looked not at culture
We placed our hopes, dreams and aspirations not in a politician
When everyone was a person
No-one was a colour and titles did not exist
Simplicity was the name of the game
But then mankind ... the one who was suppose to be kind
Gave a name to everything
The division had begun
Was man-kind really kind?
What once was one had been splintered into pieces
Now we stand divided
Where have all the pieces blown, you ask?
Where are they hiding?
An incomplete puzzle we have become
However the answer has been revealed to few
But for now their tongues are on mute

I was cuddled up in a sheet that day,
watching the raindrops trace on my reflection,
on the dusty window.
A sound of a drop reverberated more
than the ghastly silence.
In a few minutes, the dust melted away.
The sky wasn’t bright, neither was it dark.
It was an essential gray, promising of a tempting void
that smelled of a fresh petrichor
and a floor made of broken glasses
that has forgotten to bleed the flesh.

I fed my everlasting reflections
to these broken mirrors
till the floor smelled of my debauchery
of selling facades of appeasement

I made a tryst with myself,
to be brutally honest
to my purpose on this planet.

And so, here am I,
abiding the tryst,
It’s the mellow beginning.
A warm end awaits, I believe.

It's 11:59
And i think about you.
The last person i think of,
And the first person i'll be thinking of.

12:00, i wonder if you think of me too.

12:00; today

Do I make more out of this
you and me
when I write poetry about it?

Do I over analyze it
and dream too much about it
so that I think its more than what it is?

How am I supposed to know how you feel
if you don't tell me?
All this guessing
and going with the flow,
makes me anxious and all I want is you.
I want to know that I have you.
But do I right now?
It's okay if I don't, I just want to know you aren't going anywhere.

Do you stop and think about others?

Do you stop and think about others  feelings?

Do you stop and think about the hardship?

Well maybe you should

There people out there

Hurting

Suffering

And you don't stop and think about it

There kids being bullied and abused

Open your eyes

The world doesn't revolve around you

You may not be able to fix the problem

But the least you could do is be there

Sometimes just having someone there

To listen and comfort

Is all a person needs

So next time stop and think and say to your self

"Is my life really that bad."

Then maybe you'll understand

It happens sometimes
between winter and the sultry summer,
my words and visions refuse to mate,
no amount of alcohol urges them
to this universal transfixion
on a piece of a patient paper

I have no choice left,
I visit the dusted mirror
in my inhospitable washroom again
the vortex of time swallows me inherently,
as I fall through the voiceless oceans
and painstaking cheap bars
that are out of beer.

I walk through the autumnal rains
where the birds have learned to hide
and the leaves refuse to be touched.
The maidens are no longer beautiful,
Houses full of Japanese crockery
and European paintings
are half submerged in filthy ponds
to be admired by filthy fishes
with filthy brains.

The kids are running and laughing
on the roads but I can’t see their faces.
The dogs no longer bark, but they have
tears of joy and my hands have forgotten to
pet these loyal creatures. Their tails don’t wag now.
They refuse to acknowledge my existence.

I see my twin somewhere.
The only one who smiles back at me.
Contented but not happy,
his eyes are his stories,
his soft hands; devoid of typing
are his unwritten poems.
I have to **** him.

Before he swims out of this vortex.
Before he swims into me.
Before he falls in love with himself.