It's funny how well
Black compliments gold,
One shined so bright
While another is literal darkness,
One is sought after,
While the other has many superstitions about itself.-
There is a pain in me,
So deep,
That it aches in my bones,
Something that i have been
Carrying for too long,
It's become a part of me.
So tell me love,
How do i take a part of my soul
And put it in mortal words;
And moreover tell me,
What will i be
Without them?-
There are some poems
That howl like the winds
Wanting to be heard.
And others
Like a silent whisper in a room,
A symphony,
Which has no need of a specter.-
Bleed love,
Bleed in the form of ink,
Or sweat,
Do something,
Become someone,
-
I walk the the bridge railing
Half drunk and ready to end it
The sound of the traffic drowns my cries
And no one really hears.
One foot infront of the another,
I miss a step but I still do not fall,
Someone once said the lonely often live long.-
I am like a mirror
I reflect what you wanna see.
Taking the shape of your deepest desire
I become what you what me to be.
Forgetting myself in the process.
I hide everything you don't like
Suppress parts of me
In hopes of getting a forever.-
Sometimes I want to be a classic,
Like a 90's picture,
Or some artwork from the Renaissance,
Something from the past,
Glossed over
And elegant.
Sometimes I want to be new,
With deep ruby colours painted on me,
Something from now or tomorrow,
Vibrant and active.-
Sometimes I wanna collapse into myself,
Become a black hole
And absobe everything around me
Not even let the light escape.
I wanna forget I have bones and muscle,
And dissolve my edge,
You will not be able to tell where I end
And where I begin.
I will be a black mass,
Full of mystery.-
Are you still awake?
Are you still here?
If I stretch my hand,
Would I find you in the dark?
-
Sometimes I look at the physical manifestation of memorise,
At the flaws in our skin,
That we point so easily
And then spend the rest of the year
Struggling to accept it.
I look at the acne marks
And I remember the days,
when my face was filled with them
And I had tried every product
But it wouldn't work.
I look at the stomach rolls,
And sometimes when anxiety doesn't rear its head,
I remember my love for food,
Yesterday's pizza and today's chaat.
Somedays, I see a roadmap in my skin,
And remember the place that it has been with me,
The places where I have smiled and cried,
It's like a scrapbook with memories written on its surface.
And sometimes,
Only sometimes,
I appreciate it.-