A bitter pill is all you need
To help discern
Who will walk with you.

Optimism is dutifully rewarded
Almost always.
However, when you decide
To unlock the dark caverns deep within,
Most flee far
From the photophobic bats that emerge,
For fear of contamination
Or worse, being preyed upon.

There may be light at the end of a tunnel,
But choose who you see it with;
Not all deserve the privilege
Of knowing your battles.

There will never be a dearth
Of those emerging solely to gloat
Over sinister predictions
And impending consequences.
Avert them
With the guise of negativity
While strengthening inwards
In solitude.

This way, at the end,
You will either be a lone wolf
Or find your truest pack.

-

Be afraid
If you get a good feeling,
For self-doubt
Is the norm of the hour.
Confidence is but an ornament
That masks uncertainty,
Until you call its bluff.
Thereafter, it is all a free fall
Into a ruggedy chasm -
A one-way ride
To rock-bottom.

Be worried,
If things work out
Exactly how you envisioned;
For a wake-up call
May be imminent.
Being the best version
Of yourself
Could open the right doors,
Yet may fail to garner
Enough strength
To hold the door in place.

Be quiet
If you are overcome
By a sudden urge to vent,
For the inadequate responses
Will leave you wanting.
Being consumed by the futility
Of this exercise
Is integral and avoidable.
Words when measured out instead,
Speak louder and are good
At fulfilling expectations.

-

Lately, nights descend in stealth,
Like red ants falling from a twig
That one's elbow grazes
While passing by.

They crawl in deep, unnoticed,
And spread all over,
Until one squirms
With the anticipation of tomorrow.

Nibbling into stolen moments of rest,
They ignite stinging pains
And serve dire reminders;
Only to be soothed
By the well-fed assumption
That no matter how sticky things get,
A guilt-infested scratchy slumber
Is all it takes to start afresh.

-

Each day is a dripping tap
Letting out energy, will and execution,
One drop at a time.
No matter how tightly one twists,
There's always a drop nearly formed
Merely waiting to let go.
Plop, plop, plop!
Listen to the sound of depletion
Melt into background noise -
A slow draining process
In the guise of routine.

Learn to grow oblivious
As the last trickle begins to dry,
Leaving behind scanty residues
Of past accomplishments.
Is this it?
The inevitable solution to a "tank problem"?
The heart would disagree
If it could,
But it's long been dehydrated
Past viability.

Therefore watch it drip
In a hypnotic trance -
Squeezing out
One drop at a time,
Each a tad smaller than its predecessor.
Sooner or later
The reservoir will empty,
Unless a giant wrench
Takes the tap apart.

-

Oftentimes a wave of guilt
Breaks onto a calm shore,
And recedes, leaving residues
Of "I could have done more."

The underlying thoughts
Behind turning a blind eye
Involve musing if others care,
While entwined in "Why should I?"

There's bound to be lost causes,
A few too many more than fair;
Picking one's battles wisely
Can help break "I wouldn't dare."

If impulse triumphs for once,
It could be put to a tough test;
To make a mark, one's up against
Millions of "I know what is best."

The harshest critic lies within
Smugly waiting for a miss,
Validated as one squirms under
"I don't think I can do this."

With all these weights tied to the heels,
Own every step in the climb,
Affirm "I did the best I could,
And I will do better next time."

-

There is something about here
That will be nowhere again;
However, not all goodbyes
Need to be laden with pain.
This city's found a place
Somewhere deep within my mind,
Where it knows yet cannot speak
Of how it feels being left behind.

It will always be the place
Where I began driving around;
Not as far as you'd think,
Still that was breaking some ground.
It will also be the place
Where I first began to work,
And watched carefreeness disappear
As life looked on with a smirk.

This farewell feels different
From the ones that came before,
No longer does it induce
An emotional outpour.
There is a strong connect,
It just chooses to be shy;
That's one thing I picked from Columbus
And its forever gloomy sky.

Everything about the time
Spent here in sun or snow,
Are fond recollections
Of how much I've had to grow.
It has brought about a sense
That nothing is definite,
And that going away now
Doesn't mean we'll never meet.

-

Sometimes, it takes a while
To warm up to a place and its people -
But once you do,
It feels like you've been there forever
And will always be,
Only to be snapped back to reality
Which now demands
That you should pack up and leave.
It's never easy,
Even if you've uprooted yourself
A million times before,
But now you know
How to go through the motions
Without giving away a hint
Of the raging storm within.
As you gather all your belongings,
And are compelled to shed
What once appeared indispensable,
It seems like you're finally learning
The art of detachment,
Only that you aren't;
Because just when this bruise
Turns a lighter shade of blue,
You jump headfirst into newer habits,
Latch onto quiet corners in a new setting -
And there you are once again,
Looking to make a home
Out of your current mailing address,
Renewing your misplaced faith
In the mysterious ways of time.

-

It almost feels like summer
In the hopeful month of May,
Dark clouds make way for the sun
Keeping snowy days at bay.
Sprawling greens greet frosty eyes
That now glisten with each ray
Dispersing in varied hues
To blossoms that dance and sway.

There's an air of great relief
With the cold losing its bite,
As the day grows warm and long
Drifting to a pleasant night.
Birds and hares play hide 'n seek,
Squirrels dig with all their might,
Burying nuts and cones of pine
To eat when the time is right.

The sky's never been clearer
Holding promise in its blue,
Swiftly wiping out each scar
From an airplane that just flew.
It is indeed just perfect!
Of course, too good to be true,
For a hint of grey crawls in
And winds swoop in to its cue.

Soon the rivers overflow,
Traffic comes to a standstill -
There are flash floods on the streets,
Tornadoes forming at will.
With all running for cover
Summer's quickly gone downhill,
Only blooms wilted and razed
Flutter in the revived chill.

-

Every now and then,
One ought to find a release
To grow and sustain.

-

*Happy New Year*

This year's end feels bittersweet
Just as every previous one,
A sense of closure now giving way
To a fresh start with the rising sun.

This juncture evokes a myriad thoughts,
For many this is when you look back;
If weighing your gains against losses,
Remember to cut yourself some slack.

As for me and maybe more,
Nothing really changes much;
Yet it does, when caressed slow
By the fading year's lone spirit's touch.

Heart swells with joy and fear alike,
Brain's started listing things to do;
Hoping to be a better self
Until next year, then start anew!

-