I beg of you:

1. Examine me with curious eyes.
Crave to sneak a look within,
to see where the treasures lie.

2. Caress me with gentle fingers --
hold me in such a way
that every touch lingers.

3. Open me, peer into my soul
and study each aspect with care.
Hold each one in the softest embrace
no matter the fright or scare.

4. And this, I ask with all my heart --
love me, treasure me, and all my parts.
For despite appearances, despite my walls,
I am not Pandora's Box.

no
i will not do you
any favors

my words
will not mold
to your reasoning

thoughts
from one mind
do not adjust
to another

and mine
are built
in concrete

if you don't
understand
then you are simply
not meant to

and that
is the beauty
of poetry

I need you to understand my silence
not my eloquent words of wisdom
not my mountain of intellect
not my impactful insights on the world
not my ability to introspect.
I know not of these things.

I need you to understand my existence
what exists in me through my experience
carrying loved ones
unfaded
persistent
optimistic
consistent
hope.

We yearn to be understood
by those who don't understand.
we explain to those who don't even want to listen,
let alone lend a helping hand.
There are only a few who get us truly,
only a few who understand what we say.
And even fewer who understand profusely,
what we don't say, what our expressions don't display.
These are the ones who know,
that the times when the quietest are we,
the time when silent is all we can be,
isn't the time when our voice is lost,
it's the time when we are actually screaming the most.

You’re not a poet because you know those ‘fancy’ words
You’re a poet because every word you write comes straight from your heart

You’re not a poet because you feel alone
You’re a poet because pen and paper are your biggest companions

You’re not a poet because you understand emotions better
You’re a poet because you let them flow freely

You’re not a poet because people admire your work
You’re a poet because you write for your own contentment and not for people's consent

You are not a poet because you’ve failed in love
You’re a poet because you’ve been in love deeper than anyone else

You’re not a poet because you are strong
You’re a poet because you don’t hide your weaknesses

You’re not a poet because you can heal hearts
You’re a poet because you know what it means to be broken






              ©words of a withering soul

To have too many emotions.
To be too transparent.
To feel too much.
To be too open.
To be,
too much.
And will it ever be possible?
To get them to understand.
That they’re too less.
That they’re terribly afraid of us showing them something they cannot ever reach.
That they have a lack.
That we don’t have anything
in abundance.
And that we are not,
too much.

i understand
more than i do
sometimes i do not understand
what i choose not to