Why must I write?
When there's so much better,
Prose, poetry, free styling words,
So much more elaborate,
So beautifully knit together,
While I create patchworks of rhymes, and reason,
This silence would ****,
This inability to express to people,
Because paper patiently listens,
Because this desire-less life feels a little lived when pen meets paper,
But I don't write in ink,
Charcoal let's me rethink,
Who knows what's going to happen next,
And if you did, what would you really do differently?
Can you escape yourself?
Wherever you go, there you are

Truth comes at a price,
And I have emptied my purse to you,
I have offered my soul to the devil,
Tell me what else I can do

Cannot overemphasise the importance of never giving up,
If you believe in a cause, a person, an idea, with every cell in your body,
No matter what logic and books and your friends and the internet may say,
If you have faith in something,
You owe it to yourself, and the object of your belief,
To fight -
Every hurdle in your way,
And if that hope and belief survives every hurdle...









So will you

This brokenness,
is our oneness,
I don't want a cure

At one point in time, you just want to surrender,
Accept that you're weak,
Maybe you were never strong to begin with,
All you want is...





Defeat (relief)

It's funny just today,
You asked me, "you're an expert in picking dark chocolate, right?"
I guess I am the master of everything bitter,
And to you, it is starting to show

I thought I could paint you a new picture,
Smiles, giggles, hugs and kisses,
I wanted a picture perfect life for you, with me,
For me, with you,
We've had those moments,
I am sure those were what they call ~heaven on earth~
And I love you, I do,
But day by day and everyday, my love,
I think, I feel, you'd be happier without me,
And I still want that picture perfect life,
For you, for you