At the end of the day, we are all made the same. The same opaque bones than turn translucent, the same neuron structures and the same moonlight, pale and rough. I might speak to you again but definitely not now. It’s not the right time to debate our odds. When the darts have been blown into a tornado and our minds have become numb to another dimension. I search out again for a different comfort, than the one I thought I needed the most. My fingers stay the same even after years, of climbing and falling down a couple million times. Work a job or two to make ends meet, so we could meet again on a candlelight evening. Dusk and dawns pierced with thorns, of a forgotten rose kept alone.



The Poet and her Lover

Would you want to have something deep

With someone so shallow

I lack the basic traits you need

Yet I move along with you

I cannot bare to look past this moment

When I wouldn’t call you my own

We are strangers even while waking together

Just another messed up night

I hoped this would end differently

Far better than I intended

But the ropes came untied before I could

Retie the knot once again

There is darkness beyond the moments

I can stay by your side without doubt

But my veins boil with aching regrets

That continue to chase me on

I cannot lose my pride for a temporary game

But you are an exception

One I cannot look at fair

You pushed into this lake

Silent and dull

But I only heard the silent screams

Telling me to give you up




There’s a million version of the emotions I feel

On a daily count I count till three

Till there is no longer a craving for a better life

Till am satisfied with what I have

I get overwhelmed faster than hurricanes could pass

Swift like winds falling from mass

There should be a point to my pointless doubts

That consumes my happiness nearing its wall

Should I smile more to the mimes I meet

Mechanical conversations that’s what I need

I get burdened with feelings that aren’t mine

They push me away faster than what I find