I've been trying to write for months now, I do think, think alot but rather than erupting it on paper, I engulf my thoughts inside me. Never realised I was feeding myself so much and yet was so hungry. Picking only 2-3 people from the queue to the way to the heart, got me so busy that I never really tried to make my own heart happy. Serving in the plates of people I love, I forgot to eat my meal of contentment. This is going deep, deeper, making holes in my heart. I'm full yet I'm so hungry. I'm full of emotions but I barely feel anything.

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They say you can conquer the world,
But here in between four walls,
I just romanticize you holding my hand
Who needs the world, when i have it in my hands when you hold mine.

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I wrote about you
Just to feel how a love poem
Would be written if it was about
"The universe in my arms".

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The love screaming in my heart drips of like the rain in which we drenched together, every rain drop pouring on your skin was blessed. I felt jealous of it until you grabbed me and blessed my lips furthermore i couldn't say anything and then when i was about to say- my tongue was into your buccal cavity. Then i just exchanged my words through tongues. I just realised we just communicated in a new way i never did before.

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"Safar"

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Not everything that ends up on good terms are goodbye.

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To be an art,
It is as easy as existing.
To be an artist,
It is as hard as living.

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Everyone's walks with bag full of stories but you only read it when you clash with them.

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Artists are cheaters,
They design the emotions
Which has been created while ago but never expressed.

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My affection for you
Outgrows like the weed
In the field of cash crops.

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