I want to say a hundred million things.
I want to tell you all about me.
I want to speak until my throat feels dry and swallowing my own spit becomes an obstacle.
I have so many words buried deep inside.
They are waiting for me to find someone who thinks I'm worth the while.
Would you listen?

-

I hope one day
all my thoughts would be etched onto paper;
paper that I will keep in the closet
but I'll never really look or read.
My heart would be empty
and in that day, in that moment,
I will be free...
I will be happy

-

They say Jesus died for our sins
Why do there seems no end to my suffering

-

Home is anywhere it's easier to breathe.

-

Somedays
even the never-ending vessel pours its last drop.
Somedays
even the ever-patient mother nature
turns to violence for discipline.
Somedays
even the most victorious shall taste the cheap liquor of defeat.
Somedays
even a loser will win.
The world will turn. The world will go on.
That's the destiny of this world
and you shall fulfil yours.
Running away is easier.
Running isn't as scary.
But you won't get to the end of this tunnel by running away from it.

-

//market alert//

Colourful, bright, shimmery
enchanting.
Set on display on shelves after shelves.
Whatever you want to buy;
available.
Name a price. Get the item.
Stationery. Clothings. Furniture.
Luxury items. Cooking essentials.
And yet,
no heart. No brain. No kindness.
No understanding.
Could be bought.

-

and when I'm in pain
I don't have to wrestle the words on page.
they come out on their own.
they save me.
my words know me
they know that if I didn't get a release
I would combust.

-

We are tired people
hoping for the best
knowing the best might never happen.

We are tired people
this world and its people
disappoint us more than they amaze us.

We are tired people
even breathing requires a conscious effort
and somedays, it's easier to give up.

We are tired people
we do not understand how some people can live their life
while we are barely surviving.

We are tired people
and this world doesn't mince words
in telling us how we don't belong.

-

The human being has two forms:
the earthly, materialistic you
and the soul.
I know nothing about your human self.
I am in love with your soul.
Your soul is pure,
forgiving and determined to make sense of all the miseries of life.
But the human you
I don't know anything about her...
and it scares me.
Because that's the you that will break my heart and thrash my soul.
If you're reading, it's a request:
please don't break my trust again.

-

do you even care? they asked.
and I don't know how else to tell them
that I did care
and I cared too much.
I lost myself waiting for them,
prayed to a god I didn't believe existed
hoped for their happiness after I gave up on mine.
and when I did say how much I care
they told me to either care or measure how much I did for them.
so this time when they asked
do you even care?
I didn't respond.
I laughed.

-