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 Jun 2019 Vaishali
Zoe Grace
Hate feeling like this
The dried tear stains on my face
I smile anyway
You wont ever read this, but oh well. You helped me tonight, C, when one of my oldest friends told me he couldnt talk. So thank you.
 Feb 2019 Vaishali
Path Humble
the count starts now (tired of tired)


I read your outcry at 3:00am
posted on Facebook

you are
tired of tired
sick of sick
the only question, will it ever end...

rise this day,  start another way...

count your blessing
count against all odds
for there are more than merely one

use both hands
both hands chested to feel the heart thrusting,
for living is a wondrous blessing unique
an unbelievable to believe than so many beats,
born and borne,
by you, a strength unequaled,
you a richness possessed

count that one first.
count my hands holding your shoulders.
count that as two, one for me, one for you.

more? more.  

mirror.  find the tiny light in each eye against a yellow backdrop.

add two more. for they are a sparking confidence of confirming.

you felt the heart thrumming
go back, feel the breathing warmth breaching forth.
add another. for now known you can never ever be cold.

wash the face, wash away the caution that sleep leaves,
the coverlet of fear that fears you not to dare,
amazing that tap water plain is sacred when it
miracle breaks you out and anoints thy forehead with pure oil like the kings of yore, be a kingly human being.

go out. do not return
until one act of kind is performed and
count that as a thousand blessed, a sum recurring recounted

walk humble and the path will always appear.
walk contented for you can be both king and servant,
there is no difference - you must be both to be the other
one.

and if you still cannot raise the head,
call me.
that would be a blessing for me
and I will hear your blessings sounds mine merge,
dear friend and no more stranger,
that is the simplest definition of our learning to count to
infinity
4:00am I read your cry on facebook ph pathhumble
 Feb 2019 Vaishali
Z
24
 Feb 2019 Vaishali
Z
24
Mister Clown, mister Funny
Mister Always has some money
Why aren’t you joking today
Mister i’m always okay
i’m okay, okay

On my tiptoes like it’s ballet
It’s second best we call that Park Place
and i’m blue, blue, blue
Ya know me well i’m mister cliché
Trade my years for smokes and ashtrays
Time just flew, flew, flew
Here’s some candles, it’s happy birthday
Here’s some camels, TGI Friday
TGI Jesus, TGI Nietzsche
it’s NTK it’s TLA, that’s AKA
redundancy
It’s subtlety and puppetry,
it’s how you got the best of me
you pull the ground from under me
for me to fall and i just do, do, do

Mister Clown, mister Funny
Mister Always has some money
Why aren’t you joking today
Mister i’m always okay
i’m okay, okay
 Jan 2019 Vaishali
V
Pain
 Jan 2019 Vaishali
V
Hurt people,
Hurt people.
I often spend hours at night reflecting or having memories of past abuse and trauma. I am the type to see the level of pain in my abusers than evil. It makes me sad and often...
Has made me look crazy for giving them forgiveness and empathy from a lot of people.
No one is born evil, be it an illness, pain, or even trauma themselves...
I at least try to see some reality in it all.

I don't know, that's just me.
Here I go again;
putting you to the forefront of my mind.
pushing these words back and back, endlessly
...simply because you opened your eyes.
is beauty more important than art?
I had a whole *** poem, and lost it because my boyfriend woke up. Typical, scatterbrained me.
 Dec 2018 Vaishali
Satsih Verma
When it drips
drop by drop, a burning candle
becomes a poem.

If you knew it,
time would stand still
to meet your integrity.

Come out some night
in moon, to watch the blue
love of lonely trees. The
melted dark becomes a song
of earth.

Tomorrow
you don't want it-
to come and yesterday to go.
If you can freeze this day
I will never ask for a requiem.

O god, will you
forget my name and
let it be a shrine of
unknown traveler.
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