the heartbreak. is the greatest massacre.

-

an abandoned lifeboat waiting for its survivors
stands still among crowd. and the hallways
look deserted and dull and sad, like death.

waters this spring have been quieter
there’s no life to it. no screams for help either;
too tired to carry the cries, else mourning the dead.

what’s scary among the two will never be known—
the absence of survivors or its presence
the lights may be bright, but the eyes are tired.

waves start to toss a little, back and forth
the lifeboat still standing, neatly. finds me
still; and the loneliness grows.

-

sometimes memories are
like blotched veils.
they hinder our vision
to see the past and present
clearly.

blindness is not
just a matter of sight.
most of the times
it is the state
of our heart and mind.

-

where do we go?
who do we turn to?
what do we wait for?
and why do we still write about love?

-

what was built over years
couldn’t even stand a little spark
but night doesn’t know to dial 101
it watches the house on fire.

inside the drawer lie a thousand memories
how well i remember you / your voice.
but trust and hope suffer for a space,
is forgetting even a choice?

when eyes hold all the pain
hearts turn safe houses for love.
but what love was trying to save / for love,
love set that house, that safe house on fire.

-

ways to feel blue

-

the evolution of my fear

-

-

the feeling to not feel anything anymore
just surface from inside of my heart
like small jolts of an earthquake
you only feel when you are sensitive enough

the hands that once held mine
now refuse to recognise carvings
it once loved to trace
forcing fate to rip open a heart

we never see how drops form a river
and we become so careless with words that
they all start marching against you
until you no longer can handle the crowd

people walk away sometimes, feelings to memory
maybe for your and for their good, like you did
but for you to become a memory
it’ll be an endless war against time
and everything else

-

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