She was afraid of the human touch
As it made her weak
To feel it again
In another day,
Then it slowly entered her veins
And filled her heart with desire of hope
Then it shattered her suddenly
By leaving an empty note.
The world is a place
The world is our home
So why do I hear people
Shout and moan?
You shout about this
And shout about that
But never
Do you do anything
This world feels like
It’s drowning, but all we do
Is stand and listen
Never doing anything
But all we do
Is shout and moan
This place
That we call home.
Love is one of the best yet worst feelings a person can experience.
Since love cannot always bring you joy,
for it can give you sorrow and pain.
It can either fill that hole in your heart,
or widen it.
Some say you are lucky to fall in love,
others think you are a fool.
A fool so desperate to feel love that you’d put yourself through all that torture and pain,
just to have that slice of happiness.
Just to live in that temporary serenity,
even though you know that voice at the back of your head is right,
the voice that screams
“This will not stay forever”.
But you do not listen.
For love makes you blind with stupidity.
And you don’t really realise how desperate you were ’til love leaves you behind,
searching for a new victim to break.
It’s an illness,
Inside, all around, it defines me
It’s invisible to a certain degree
It’s been a part of me since I was three
I’ve tried to put it under lock and key
Anxiety
It’s an unwanted gift from society
It’s undeniably
A part of me
One day it’s going to crush me
So go ahead and shun me
But I’m telling you
It grew when I was two
It’s impossible to undo
Kinda like the flu
But it’s stuck to me like glue,
It came from out of the blue
I didn’t have a clue,
Why was it still there when I grew?
It’s either me or this flu
Yeah, in the end, it’s either me or this flu
They say it’ll go away
But I know
Forever it’ll stay
And put my life at play
And change the shape of it as if it were clay
It’ll turn me into a slave
All I can do is pray
To be brave
And not become it’s prey
I know that until my hair turns grey
It will stay
If words could kill
like the viper’s sting
just think of the men
who would be dead
tonight.
I mean the words
that hurt the feelings,
words that have no healing,
the things you say in unjust spite
simple, short words with evil might.
Now just suppose your best friend died
from words that made good men blush.
Her life was nothing, just a hush.
Would you learn the lesson?
Would you think of what you say
every month, from June to May?
Would you say the hurtful things
that hurt like rocks from a sling?
You know,
words are what make man afraid
words are what make friends no more.
So would you say those bad words
that give you wicked pleasure.
Would you risk the love of another
to depart and find another?
Just imagine
if words could kill
how many men would be dead,
tonight?
lulling, rocking, sultry night
seek my hand in cold waters
brush your air through my fingertips
bitten pink by teeth glinting milky
as the moon
pregnant she skims the translucent sea
rounded head lolling to sigh
for her yellow sun’s birth
marked by blunt clock’s cry
yellow and pink scribble dark sky
fingers that know not what they will find
pluck my body and leave melting stars behind
dreams tucked between duvets
I wake every morning, listen to you,
Your sounds filling every single corner
Of our cramped two bedroom, furniture skewed
As if tossed aside. A fellow mourner
Of a time before your screaming came;
A phase of peace before your blood ran hot
And your eyes turned cold. You put out our flame,
Setting your own ablaze without a thought.
Glass breaks and hearts shatter at your hands.
Tears flow and words are in drought but screams flood.
What happened to our promise, all our plans?
I breathe. You slam your fist down with a thud.
We vowed that spring day: til death do us part.
Now snow falls and you tear our work of art.
It’s been days
It’s been months
It’s been years
But there’s nothing to say
Nothing to see
Nothing to hear
The flower hasn’t bloomed
Hope is lost each day
It waits for its calling, its pollen
Yet its bud is unmoved
Its prayers ignored
Dreams all forgotten
Late blooming flowers
And failure
Are best friends
They end up with all the power
While rest of us slowly learn to fail
In the end
Today is daughter’s day,
Which gives me legal license to spread propaganda
For daughters
As I have personal experience of being a daughter
I consider myself an expert on the subject
I’ve been in this field
For over fifteen years,
So here I go:
Daughters are great
Daughters are smart
They don’t deserve hate
Just give them a chance
I know you want sons
Hoping for financial stability
And assurance that your child
Won’t run off with their special someone
But we daughters can earn you money too
If you love and treasure us
We’ll return the favor to you
And work just as hard
So dear future parents
Please don’t kill your children
For their atrocious crime of being a girl
And I promise
Your daughters will grow into jewels