I wish I could put you back together again
Pieces and shreds of you
Broken into million crumbs
The days you were smiling with your heart n your eyes
I wish I could put you back together again
When you loved who you were
The man you really were
The man who you really knew
The man who was standing straight
I wish I could put you back together again
In the ocean in the wind in the strand of spider string

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With my eyes barely open, and my heart scarcely full
I slumbered in the wee hours of 'productive' shut-eye
Gawking in the void i created by walking in the line betwixt self pity & self devotion.
Reminiscing the day yesterday or feels like the days of yore when smile wasn't a luxury and sorrow just daily chore.

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Raindrops were not water but memory drops
The sound and essence of earth kissing the sky
I was on my bed looking out the window
beholding droplets travelling on the pane
I could hear them
I could hear them talk
The talk I never had
the words I never discerned
They were in love
The kind of love one envies
In the midst of desolation
was the embracement of affection

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The twinge from the everlasting 'what if' is more than all your miseries combined.

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Sometimes anger is just pent up emotions. Even a crowd cannot make you feel connected if you don't feel like you belong.

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You search for everything you don't have and get everything you never wanted.

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I walked the road barefooted,
The anguish was real and deep-rooted.
I called for help but my voice echoed,
I shouted, I wailed but my voice bellowed.

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Happiness
What does it mean? Is it temporary? No, it's your perception towards situations that makes the difference. Small things can make you happy, only if you start noticing the small things. We always look at the bigger picture, but sometimes we need to appreciate the colours used to make that picture beautiful.

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Cold gusts of air filled the room with unexpected contentment.
The swinging branches and the swaying leaves set the mood for the evening.
The hot cup of tea, and the melancholic symphony of nature made sense to life.

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Heart throbbing like fluttering wings. The intention is mysterious, even a mystery to me.

Thinking and blinking like two parallel lines.
Every step I take, I move ahead and stop, I tangle myself in ludicrous vines.

I am climbing the ladder, the ladder of life, the ladder made of thorns and spike.
I take a step, I know it hurts but It hurts more to halt, I outstep.

I raise my hand, I hold my arm.
I pick me up, I keep myself warm.

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