I warned her to be aware of thorns
while embracing roses.
Little did I know,
It was thorns; she embraced
and the red mark in her fingers
smelt of -
She hardly wants to tag a name.
But it's
What earthlings' spell - love.

-

In-between ifs', buts and what ifs'...

-

Dark dense clouds
clashed, flashed;
Violent voices echoed
only the dust remained.

-

The morning sun do not blur my view
I wake up a little earlier than him, these days.
I don't know how to describe the passing minutes
Should I grieve that I'm losing the little me
and growing older which I don't want to.
Or
should I cherish that I'm able to pay my bill
and get things my mom asks for.
My bed and me no longer spend time together.
My pillows don't hear my words anymore
except it holds my tired head.
I no longer get lost in the sea of thoughts while I drown in my bed,
I just sink in,
sinking and sinking
nothing I remember after that.
No helping hand rushes to pull me up,
and no hand I seek.
Dawn comes with alarm for me,
My eyelids hardly feel heavy
but my heart does - an unsaid heaviness
I don't know how to name it
or How to express it and whom to.
All I know is,
I'm lost in the linearity of time.

-

would it tell me
that she understands me.
That my
numbness matters,
silence matters,
"I don't know" matters,
Would it tell me all that?

-

If forgetting was
as easy as remembering,
I would've forgotten you
like I remember you now.

-

Forgetting, a journey
I’m least crazy about, maybe not at all.
I’ve wondered about remembrance
but not forgetting, even once.
Forgetting, a phase they tell,
that eventually ends,
but no, it’s  a whole journey
and the road hardly ends.
It’s a great deal to sort
which, what part to bury deep-down;
Not to let an off-spring sprout again.
Forgetting- breaking those million strings
one by one, on silent mornings
and noisy nights, slowly, gently,
not to leave a bruise.
Piling up those strings
round and round
and owning it like a crown.
It may weigh you down,
but soon, you’ll evolve.
And little by little
you’ll learn to remember less.
Forgetting:
a one-way journey.
Till your atoms dissolve
a part of the parted soul
will be there, right within your soul
but you’d have mastered
to remember less.

-

The final string you cutoff from million.

-

There are times when you want to forget some memories;
those little fragments of past moments
that occasionally loiters in your mind,
whereas the other times you just want to
pile all those fragments and shove light on the big picture
to know what it actually was.
That unending confusion between rediscovery
and letting it fade away is scarier than memory itself.

-

Let it be the big bang or any other speculative hypothesis.
If beginning and end are two extremities of the same scale
Tell me, Where are we right now?

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