The roots of roses
that you built inside my chest
strangles me, my love

"Man, HE knows nothing of love."
Maybe, but woman, you're beautiful,
So why put me to blame?

"So, why are you not writing anymore?"

Because I am in love?

"Should you not be writing more then, pouring your heart out in poems?"

Maybe...

but how do I put into words,
this feeling of being content
with a person I never knew before

how do I tell you that this time
it is not about the butterflies or the
fluttering hearts and all those fuzzies

how do I describe the silent
promises that are made to take care
of the little giggling child inside of me

how do I explain to you all the tiny
details of our personalities that are changing
to fit perfectly like the pieces of a puzzle

how do I show someone what it
takes to be strong enough to get vulnerable
and compassionate enough to get responsible

how do I write about this serenity
and knowing that I will be safe in
the hands that keep pushing me to be better

I wish I had the right words to talk about
the kind of love that slowed my racing mind and
made me realise that every day the sun paints
the sky a bit different, every night the moon
reveals itself a bit different and I get to cherish
every version of it for the rest of my life.

i want to whisper in your ear,
so close that my warm breathe makes you tingle.
i will whisper all my sweet nothings to you,
those will melt right in your mouth.
all my poetry is based upon you,
you are sole star in my galaxy.
who am i without the love i share?
who am i without the love so rare?
all alone i crash and rash all over the place
yet it is your gaze that makes my heart race.
yet again this is all a wish.
a wish won't come true.
so i find pleasure in wishing too.

out of all the people who have seen me,
why did he made me feel seen?
He saw me as a evergreen paradise, always beaming up to dream.
He stared at me,
prolonged,
as i'm the ruthless star crashing through the galaxy.
A thousand words of coursety,
letters of love.
A million actions of care,
a zillion praises to drown in but
why does his look of wonder fill up my anxious soul?
why had he become the Sol to my Soul?

When she left me,
I wondered,
Still she can come back to me,
Still there is a chance I am not a stranger to her,
Still there is some day where we meet again,
Still it was my fault that she left me (btw a mutual friend told me that it was not my fault),
Still she can bring the colours in my life,
Still my heart is attached to her,
Still I find clues that the words were not her's,
Still I think of her even though she left me,

And from then 'Still' became a part of me,
I got lost with the 'Stills',
As it was the only thing she left for me...
                   OR
As it became a part of me...

I wondered again,
Will the 'Stills' ever end...
If yes then when ?

Oh darling, why haven't you learned how the heart cowardice disappears for the sake of loved one yet comes trembling back in before them?
Why haven't you learned that those grand gestures of love are just quick instincts for you?
Why you haven't stopped serving your flesh on platter and giving your bones as rich delicacy?
Why do belittle your brittle heart to commend to other's world?
Why do caress wounds which makes you spiral, not on your body but only because it's on other's ?
Decades went by as you sink in your bed.
Your tears grew mold as your eyes shred.
With lingering hope you called for an voice to answer,
a hope to receive
yet all you ever got was a cold shoulder,
a close call to defeat.
Now, you're on your feet.
Laying bricks one at time.
saying, it'll be a memory or a story to tell
smiling ever so softly and lull
your glow can purify this hell.
though you still cling to them,
as a friend or companion or as a soul
though how can i tell?
as i watch you from the distance one could get ;
is the circus missing a fool ? Or did the school miss a ghoul?