The morning sky finally lets me kiss her over the paleness of her lips.
For I, with song and silence, have courted her through the centuries that lay between night and day,
And now, as I do, she turns a lighter shade of blue each time I look at her face through my spectacled windows;
Like the blush of the schoolgirl tasting a kiss for the first time,
Like the vermillion smeared across the face of nature's young bride.

-

You're like the three AM love song I sing on the roof of my house; a guitar in my hand and some alcohol in my bloodstream. And perhaps a dozen cigarette butts that lie around me, having burnt a hole in my heart.
Cheap cigarettes and sadness, that's all the thrill that I can offer, and perhaps a cheap me in bits and in pieces. But I'd still rather let the storm take you, than watch you melt into the musky satin that your God shrouds you in. Rather let you scream in pain than watch his sheets muffle your voice.
You're like the gazillion suicide notes that I've flung out of my bedroom window every week, hoping that one day; one mellow winter day, I'll stop writing them altogether. And I did, I somehow did, I won't lie. After a point, I realized I stopped writing them; not a sad word was written for centuries after that, not because my soul had run out of sadness, but perhaps because it ran out of ink. But tonight I find myself writing again, and I don't know whether I should be happy.

-

Dawn

To the ghosts I cut my ties with last night, know that I'll always love you, despite your flaws, and despite mine, and despite the flaws in our destinies
To the wilting petals of summer bliss; it wasn't you, it was me.
In hopes of turning things to gold, my touch, it set fire to the calmness;
A flame you run away from, a storm I walk into.

To the ghosts who've finally left me alone, know that you take with you something of mine;
Something that means the world to me.
And through the garden of dead roses I walk, seeking what perhaps I think is forgiveness,
Realizing how loud silence can be, and how my wails for your smiles can't drown it out.

To my lovers, and to my friends, to my father and my mother, and to God, if you exist,
I can't soak in anymore, yet I can't let go
I can't breathe without you near me, and I breathe when I hold you close.
I've lost myself somewhere, and I'm sorry.

-

The letters that spell your name out are like tapestries melting through time;
Mornings lights and winter nights, the coldness of our December afternoons,
And your lips like summer wine.
Time; If I only had some time
If only I had some time to write about something that didn't reek of cigarettes or death or how you broke my lonely heart.
If only I could live up to my promises, if only I could touch colour again,
Perhaps we'd be fine.

-

The letters that spell your name out are like tapestries melting through time;
Mornings lights and winter nights, the coldness of our December afternoons,
And your lips like summer wine.
Time; If I only had some time
If only I had some time to write about something that didn't reek of cigarettes or death or how you broke my lonely heart.
If only I could live up to my promises, if only I could touch colour again,
Perhaps we'd be fine.

-

आए खुदा मुझे खो जाने दे; इस अजब सी दुनिया से ले चल मुझे।
मुझे डूब जाने तेरे रात की नदियों में; तेरे शाम के गलियों में, तेरे सुबह की लाली में।
पता नहीं कहा ले चला है तू, मुझे तो बस यहां से दूर जाने की है चाहत; ज़िन्दगी में हैं ज़िन्दगी जीने की चाहत;
तुम्हारे संग बेह जाने की चाहत;
रोशनियों में ढूंडना है मुझे अंधेरा, अंधेरों में रजनी।
अलविदा, आए दोस्त अलविदा।

-

When you swim under water and run out of breath, you crave the surface. In your mind, the surface holds the key to Utopia; Oxygen, Sunlight, Life, perhaps even God. And yet, once you breathe again, you realize how meaningless that very breath you craved for is; you're nobody in the world above the surface, and you're nobody underneath it, and that the only salvation you'll ever attain is by obliterating yourself.
The heart's in love, and everything else is a blur. I'm alone; even though everyone's telling me I'm not. Trees are a blur, the skies are a blur; even my friends are a blur. Looking back, I feel like life's a string of black and white pictures; sad, dry, monotonous, dead.

-

The rainbow kissed the night sky; her colours made love to his sorry skin.
Violet strokes of agony, sordid shades of red.
And every colour she painted him with, she watched it turn to grey.
Watched the blackened flames melt her love down to toxicity,
Watched his breath get heavier; muffled by their satin sheets.

The night was not hers to take, for she was not a shooting star.
She was only meant to grace the day; blue skies and starless chaos.
Hers. Only hers.
And yet, she craved the dying carbon on starless nights;
Breathing in the petrichor laced across his lips,
Keeping secrets from the moon, keeping secrets from herself,
Keeping herself a secret.

-

Home was snatched away from me. Snatched away by conniving thieves who didn't know what the Diamonds were worth. Now they want to take away the only person I ever could call a friend. Lovers are houses, but my friend was home. The homeliest home there ever was. She'd comfort me when times were hard. She'd hold on to me when I wanted I couldn't hold on to myself. And now they want to take her away from me. I can't let them. I won't let them.

-

How can one be so rich, yet so broke on the same night?
How can one speak about the meaning of life and death through the sighs of days melting through each other?
How can one be so proud, yet so hateful of oneself, that he scribbles letters of love, letters of hate over the blank sheets of paper he once called his conscience?
How can mirrors start lying to you, and lying so blatantly that the lies become the truth?

-