#lostinthoughts - Hello Poetry

The match trembles between my fingers, a silent war in a room too still. Smoke or breath—what matters now? The weight of nothingness, the weight of her. She lingers like an unfinished line, half a whisper, half a wound. A memory blurred at the edges, but sharp enough to cut through the dark. Did she ever love me, or just the idea? A boy with dreams too heavy to hold, an engineer of castles in air, a builder of futures that never came. Outside, the night hums with indifference. Inside, I weigh the lighter’s click against the echo of her voice— soft, pleading, unbearably distant. I could fade with the smoke, or chase the sun she once pointed to. Between life and her, I choose to breathe.

0

Feb 28, 2025

Feb 28, 2025 at 1:35 AM UTC

Kuch_baatein_khud_se

A Cigarette Between Life and Her

The match trembles between my fingers, a silent war in a room too still. Smoke or breath—what matters now? The weight of nothingness, the weight of her. She lingers like an unfinished line, half a whisper, half a wound. A memory blurred at the edges, but sharp enough to cut through the dark. Did she ever love me, or just the idea? A boy with dreams too heavy to hold, an engineer of castles in air, a builder of futures that never came. Outside, the night hums with indifference. Inside, I weigh the lighter’s click against the echo of her voice— soft, pleading, unbearably distant. I could fade with the smoke, or chase the sun she once pointed to. Between life and her, I choose to breathe.

20

In a room where books pile high, Echoes of dreams refuse to die. A restless mind, a weary soul, At twenty-four, still chasing a goal. Through the window, the world spins fast, A blur of futures, a ghost of past. The sun dips low, the sky turns red, Yet here I sit, lost in my head. Lines of code and circuits bright, Mock me softly in the dimming light. A degree framed, but dust collects, On promises life won’t protect. I reach for a cigarette, pause mid-air, What would it change? Who would care? The smoke might dance, the ember glow, But answers? No, they never show. Dreams cost time, and time runs thin, A battle fought but hard to win. Yet somewhere deep, a spark remains, A quiet fire, defying chains. So I let the match slip from my hand, Breathe in deep, and make a stand. Not today, I tell the night— Not today, I'll lose this fight.

0

Feb 28, 2025

Feb 28, 2025 at 1:32 AM UTC

Kuch_baatein_khud_se

The Engineer’s Lament

In a room where books pile high, Echoes of dreams refuse to die. A restless mind, a weary soul, At twenty-four, still chasing a goal. Through the window, the world spins fast, A blur of futures, a ghost of past. The sun dips low, the sky turns red, Yet here I sit, lost in my head. Lines of code and circuits bright, Mock me softly in the dimming light. A degree framed, but dust collects, On promises life won’t protect. I reach for a cigarette, pause mid-air, What would it change? Who would care? The smoke might dance, the ember glow, But answers? No, they never show. Dreams cost time, and time runs thin, A battle fought but hard to win. Yet somewhere deep, a spark remains, A quiet fire, defying chains. So I let the match slip from my hand, Breathe in deep, and make a stand. Not today, I tell the night— Not today, I'll lose this fight.

24

Those I have loved the most, I've hurt even more Those I've pushed away, I've been afraid to care for I had not seen the end of life, but I've felt it I have seen my victory of the war within, but I've tasted defeat I've drank away my sorrows, but I've already drowned in them by then I fear nothing, not because of being brave 'tis for I have already lost what I feared to

0

Jun 25, 2018

Jun 25, 2018 at 5:22 PM UTC

Deamo

Self Sabotage

Those I have loved the most, I've hurt even more Those I've pushed away, I've been afraid to care for I had not seen the end of life, but I've felt it I have seen my victory of the war within, but I've tasted defeat I've drank away my sorrows, but I've already drowned in them by then I fear nothing, not because of being brave 'tis for I have already lost what I feared to

7

In a coffee shop Past memories haunt Took out my pen To give 'em a shape In a tissue paper A raw poem Etched with So many emotions

0

Nov 22, 2015

Nov 22, 2015 at 7:40 PM UTC

Purab

A raw poem

In a coffee shop Past memories haunt Took out my pen To give 'em a shape In a tissue paper A raw poem Etched with So many emotions

8