There 's this boy I hide In my poetry,when I write wind chimes dance in tune of heartbeat -they're his. He sit between my spaces of words as if were the warm space His eyes too busy looking home in mine He scribels swirl on length of my body and stop at bare skin of my waist I let him. Every breath he exhales in my skin make me realise How nothing in the world could make me give up upon him So there's a boy I think i am hopelessly falling in love with him All over again and again.
My home after you left The house felt empty as my heart The kitchen is mess and dishes undone as I no longer wish to eat The covers of couch lay dusty as you are not there to talk over coffee and meals on it The mattress lay crumbled and grimy as sleep became unknown phenomen to me The flowers lay wilted in vase just as our relationship The newspapers kept piled under the table as I don't want to know about any other thing
Their love is only their never yours They will not admit their love But will write a whole poem on you They will not say a word of your infertility It will be all buring in fire of their words
She will be write about you like you are moon , sun and all the stars above. The pain you have given will flow in their veins through ink Even before they say hello they have thought of you as another good bye Never fall in love with a writer
Dear introvert To being called shy,docile and soft spoken . To knowing better than louder person but not arguing about it. To listening to others while they didn't return the favour. To hiding your feelings . To prefer staying at home than going out . To hating small talk . To writing your thoughts instead of saying them . To having a book as shield to ignore the world. To soltitude.To me .To us You are remarkable.