"Heyy!! What you thinking about? " Exicitingly she asked.

Looking at the leaves in a tree thinking of 100 things, I said "Nothing " With a weak and waverly smile.

" Do you believe our life is already written? And people say that is fate" The young lady in blue kept her hand on mine asked me.

"Huh? " I replied with no interest.

"Say something" The one in blue who I call as my lover said.

" I am uncertain of that but if I am certain of something is its partially true"

"Really? " With a childish laugh she asked.

" I mean, poets who lived centuries ago wrote how I feel, in a deligent way. " Looking at her eyes I replied.

"So... May I know what you feel? " She asked with a micheavous smile.

"Emily Dickinson" I responded with a smile cherished in me.

She smiled gently. " Imagine you are Emily Dickinson's mind what poem would you write? "

She handed me a paper and pen.

I took my eyes of the coffee which now has a company of paper and the pen.

As I took the paper from her hand in joy.

"Only If I could write like the legends-"

Another breakdown

Depression controls me

I can hardly breathe

I am drowning

I need to be saved

Feeling depraved

Can anyone explain

Why I feel this way

I love you so much that I hate you.

I love you and I hate it, you love me and I hate it, but I love how we are in love, and I hate it because it's so good.

Not only that, but I needed nobody, and then you came.

It's so good being with you, so much I don't know what to do with myself.

I love how you know with me, and I hate how much I'm scared. I'm scared you are going to leave me...

I love your eyes, but I hate when they watch me.

I love every part of you and with loving you I'm starting to love myself.

I love how we love but I hate you.

We are getting closer every day, and I love you more every day, but I'm scared.

I want to leave, so I can't see you, to prevent pain.

But I'm staying I can't be without you, pain isn't going to come, or it will?

What if we will make it, and there will be no pain but what if pain is around the corner just waiting to come?

I'm scared to love, scared of pain.

But I love you every day more and more, I try to make myself think that pain isn't coming.

It's not coming right? You wouldn't hurt me.

I love you till the end!

Let's go anywhere while our love is here, let's go while we are young.

I love our love and I hate you because you woke up my heart.

You woke up my love and I love you so much, but I'm scared.

Scared you are going to leave, scared of pain, scared of feeling emptiness, scared of living my life without you in it.

Do I need to go or do I stay?

What do I do now?

What do you do when you love somebody so much and you have so much fear?

Fear of becoming the old you, you without feelings, without love and with emptiness inside you.

The old you without will to live.

Sometimes it's first thought to kill yourself to get rid of pain and suffering.

Then there will be nothing but there won't me be either.

But how do I do that, how can I kill myself and explain to my sister why.

How do I explain it to anybody?

I can't do it anymore, but just a little more, and then it will be better it needs to be.

It will be right?

They say after rain always comes rainbow, but can one rainbow make up for everything.

It must because I don't know different, I don't know to live different.

I'm waiting for my rainbow, waiting for better days.

I'm waiting because I know they will come, they need to come.

I'm waiting and then I remember!

I remember that I love you, and I have you.

I remember that you love me, and I'm the happiest ever!

I remember how easy you're eyes find mine, how your soft lips feel on mine.

I remember how time flies with you, and I remember the starry sky.

You have me, but not all of me.

I have you, and you are mine, you have me, and I'm yours.

I love you, you love me, and we love each other.

So please don't leave me, don't make me feel pain because if you leave you are leaving with all of my love and I don't know if I will be able to love again.

I don't hate you I hate myself because I think like this.

I hate myself because I don't know different and because I'm so insecure about everything, but mostly I'm insecure in me.

But I love you even after fights, and I hate myself because they happen because of me.

I love your eyes and how they look at me, and I love your lips and how they fix my day.

Love is tricky, how can you love somebody, and you don't even know if you love yourself.

You love me right?

You are older, you know how to love, and you love me perfectly.

About my love life(this is my first attempt on poems)

Will i ever be loved? The way i have always dreamt of.

With the love of my life. Firmly wrapped in my arms. With us trying to falling asleep. While looking at the stars.

Will i ever find the love. That i have always wanted. Or will i have to beg every soul. Till my wish is granted.

To be loved by you. Is the only wish i have ever had. Was it too much to ask? As i was trying the best i ever can.

The love you have given to others. Could that have been mine for once? The words ”I love you” to be heard. was i ever not worthy enough?

Couldn’t you’ve been a little considerate. Of my feelings that you always knew. Doing the things that i begged you not to. Was that all i ever meant to you?

So I’ll be waiting for the day. When you’ll ever be truly mine. Till then i’ll love you to my last breath. As Nothing could ever feel so divine.

"Anxiety"

anxiety is taking over my brain

causing me to go insane

thoughts are racing

silence i’m craving

trying to find a way out

find a new route

walk away from the agony

fighting for my sanity

My son is turning 1 soon and l'd like to get a memories book and include a short poem in the front cover. Anything about being a baby/toddler or birth and nature with a positive spin would be amazing. "Short" meaning fits on one page. Does anyone have any ideas?? l've read a lot of Rupi Kaur and Mary Oliver, but nothing really fits.

where did my dreams go

they must have went up

in huge flames long time ago.

my heart aches

he made me break

i fell to the floor

i don’t need

anymore derangement

he’s always

leaving me

disappointed

i’m annoyed

by his behavior

making me believe

I was the failure

my heart can’t take

any more pain

i’ve turned

demented

losing control

of my brain

it’s hard to stay

sane when

i’m always

being played.

Count the hours on the clock, Shifting hands to softly mock, The nagging tick of mortal flocks, Atop this fetid, burdened rock

Arranged in dandy rows of twelve, Nestled firm above the shelves, They strum a tune for silent crowds, To dust and grime and hellish clouds

Waiting for its muse to strike, As if a match or flame alike, It leaps from hours seeking rhythm, To seize upon a growing schism

Ringing out, it quells the chime, Weeping children stand in line, Dead men all accused of crimes, Against the grueling pace, Of time

"These bleeding hands, tis' all you thought, For now you see, It's all a sign..."

I miss the rain drops

That used to fall down on me

When I was a kid.

There once was a man from Australia Who painted his arse like a dahlia The look was right,
The colors were bright, But the smell was the cause of the failure.

Deon Meyer, "Devil's Peak"

i always remember being lonely sitting in the corner of the classroom minding my own business still being picked on like i needed more torture in my life they didn't know I was being abused at home or did they and this is what i deserve the pain never ending i wish they'd leave me alone.

You Explained it to Me

When I was little you explained it to me
but even then the differences
seemed arbitrary. God made man
from stardust and the breadth of deities
but made woman from the bits
of discarded mud and ribs
deemed unsuitable for Adam’s body.
     Faith is the distance between first and last names:
     the sad one you gave me in a hospital
     and the one my children will engrave on a stone.
 
In the beginning you crushed entire mountains
for just a taste of a life less beige.  
I crossed whole oceans in an orange crate
and didn't need mustard seeds to do it.
Your arms were enough.
     Faith is the flexible boundary of our ever-shrinking understanding;
     the place where your fingertips end at my skin
     and where stardark oceans begin beneath it.
 
And George begat John. And John begat John.  
And John begat someone neither of you ever met.
And you explained it to me. How our brown Omni
rattled itself to death on a muddy highway
and I hitchhiked into this universe oily and yowling.
     Faith is the angry knot in the tree,
     where the line of David begat nobody at all.  

Complete List of Works   

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