The love's essense has drained from my soul
I could it's traces going dead from sight
The smell of it disappearing like when the petrichor leaves the tar roads
The touch of it over my emotions, existence near my mood swings, greivance pouring without a stop.
A lot more has changed.
They say love makes you blind.
Nope, it changes you for good, no exaggerations, no tip offs.
Just a normal life, to be exact— % &

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What if I jump over the fence
I've never dared to look over
and kill myself in the course.
What would you tell,
if I tell you,
it happened in the name of love!— % &

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Sometimes your life is not about you.
You think, you hustle all the way till your reputation stands and shines in the very right places.
But it's the people around you, the persons of your interest, the humans who had their interests on you, their perspectives collabed with yours, their views on yours and yours on them.
Every one of them, shapes into who you are everyday.
No, there's no big long period you take to emerge into a different person.
It happens every day, when you smile at a stranger who helped you getting in the bus, an almost friend who hooked you up in an important career position.
You take the inputs from them, which molds you into a person you become.
Like the egg theory, I am everyone, Iam you and you are me.
There are times we proclaim so hard that it's just us, who made it all along.
Trust me, it's never about the single person you are, it's about the events and the people involved in them who are the reason behind, always, in every step!— % &

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I'm not sure anymore
if you're my bet for love
or the real one itself.
The signs, the words
everything seems like a con
but the part I fall hard for,
is the trust that you lay out
open in the air.
I'm not sure
if I'm gonna get killed
in this sneaky deceit.
But I do know,
I'd get you finished
if I'm going down this
bloody hell of a hill called love.— % &

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I'm stammering and struggling, all at once to pick up the words to portray a perfect poem about you.
Everyday I read a thousand poems about love,pain and heartbreaks.
And each one of them tells my tiny cupid to tape the tales about us and our little moments.
I choose every phrase to settle incredibly inside my sonnet.
But then I stop, telling my mind to skip every good thing that occurred to me by you and your stupid, seductive, and so-called loving smile.
I end up scribbling the saddest sonnet every written with no option to those happy imaginations of us.
What would I do if all you left me, is nothing but miseries and mindfucking words.— % &

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You realise it's better off,
from your past love than
staying in the coldness of it.
And knowing in the end
that it's your futility
to settle for something way less.— % &

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It hurts deep to know
that you were never there,
Not even a choice
he'd make by mistake,
When it comes to love!
While you had him all over your canvas
of love & care,
smeared and untouched.— % &

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No I don't want to write up about you, after watching a couple in a Korean drama.
No, they don't remind me of us, the snuggles I wished I had with you.
The sneak peeks i had everytime you were looking all dressed up.
No, they don't make me regret, that I didn't have an active love life like theirs, even if it's a fake one.
No, I'm not too dumb to say that all these are lies, but the love-sick puppy inside me wants to think so!— % &

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I'm standing between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Your love and my life without it!
Each of them, waiting to engulf me in whole.
My indecisiveness is playing it's best ever game here, and my anxiety is already climbing over the highest peaks it never touched.
I try to fathom the aftermath of my choices laid before me.
Every luring thought, perfectly curated by the darned cupid, pulls me in the side of that unopened love of yours.
And the practical devil in me darts in the direction of my life without it.
As you always call me, your little ifrit, my demonic side traps my mind with the reality on what if your love goes draining someday.
My poor mind, falls hard and doesn't even try to bat an eye in your side.
Because it did the same mistake earlier in hope, and took a very deep heart break, from which it's yet to heal.
And this battle happens every single day, after your regretful speech took place about my absence that sat on for a year!
— % &

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Maybe it's better not to label your comfort with a person to love.
Have you ever called your blankets as love and
imagined a future with it.
No, right?
Then why try on a person and get hurt?
I know, the blanket isn't a living thing and the so-called love of your life is a person.
But shouldn't you be more careful before calling someone your love, knowing they're a human and they have to think alike before your conclusions for love do?
Next time when your heart flutters, your smile widens on seeing a human and your mind calls it love rather than comfort, don't take a fall, okay?

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