Pro tip : Losing sense of time does not help with time anxiety.

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First, they'll ignore your cry for help,
Then call you a fucking rebel.

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And after everything,
we'd still look for words to heal.


//words holding out hope

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Paper planes scare me...
The fragility of their being,
yet the utmost carelessness
with which they rush
to the end point,
is almost... human.

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I would make you stay till the end,
proving right the belief
'It only happens in the movies.'

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I wanted our love
To shine like the stars
That illuminated the universe
In its entirety

Yet it shone
Like the bulb
That dimly lit
Only a corner of our room

Maybe our hearts
Weren't as free
As we claimed them to be.

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I wanted to write
Of dark clouds and rain
But ended up writing
Of you and pain.

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I've had difficulty
painting the people who left
into poems.
They say, living in the past
costs you.
I guess, choosing not to
dwell in the past
also costs you.
It costs you
of your ability
to paint people
pretty with poems.

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For you,
I'd erase your mistakes
Like they were mine.

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A ray starts at a given point
and goes on further
forever, to infinity.
Much like an ideal case
of self-love,
starting off at self
and going further,
to infinity.
Alas! Ideal cases are rarely practical.

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