oh, dear murmurs,
where truth is but a jest,
your "honest" rings hollow,
how much more shall I bet?

titled: his lost home

-

If wind could carry me
I'd sail to and fro
between my favorite two

If rain could cleanse my thoughts
I'd embrace its gentle throw
letting clarity grow

If moon could hear my wishes
I'd whisper soft and slow
dreams too timid for daylight - yet
dear to let go

-

every sunrise feels like a destiny
when passion meets true self

-

I keep them raw, and unprocessed
so I can make something out of it.

-

with you it's different.
Immense are tiny and
ends are beginnings.
I feel like vanilla melting
in your eyes.

-

Hope feels like feathers
soft and strong
warm and light and
helps you keep
m o v i n g

-

clothed in a cherry fluid
her invisible wings fluttered
on the hot dunes - musing over
the beauty of prickly pears

-

when decors take your spot
and you feel thousand miles
away from that corner

-

Anxiety doesn't let me bank on what I'm good at. The series of "what ifs" has rooted the anxiety in me, firmly. What if the intensity of my "what ifs" grow deeper and I begin to seek reasons for all my outcomes that are fortunate? The notoriously slow remedies might ruin me beyond repair. It's a destined destiny now. Only if I travel to the predicted broken station, I can be sane in the insane journey.

-

your glistening eyes are why
I've fallen in love with you;
don't worry, I'll never tear you up
for, the insanity of my love
could only heal.

-