Atma-samman

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There's grief I wanna spread

There's grief I wanna spread,
Like pitch black ink spilling carelessly
on an empty white sheet,
Like when the crimson bleeds so freely
between those soft beautiful thighs,
Like there are petals waiting to unfold
but wither brown before they
bore delicate dewdrops,
Like the crumpled paper wishes to be
torn before it's tossed away worthless,

I wanna spread grief like the poet
who didn't full stopped when he should've,
who circled his own and moved it away,
changing the end to a hyperbole,
from a stop sign to a rest sign,

I wanna spread grief like I wished to know
when I was standing under a downpour,
what sunlight felt like.

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Here I Am...

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Do not fall in love with people like me,
We're not the same,
but we're not so different either...

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cutting overgrown nails again and again. And I cut too deep every single time.

//caption

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'Because I don't need to remember my marrow. And why would I need to forget you? You're the ubiquitous song stuck in my head. I keep humming your tune, trying to build the aura of music around me, but then I hear the lyrics and realise - you're not my song. And I still can't forget you.'

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// Aaj main udega

Aasmaan ko chhu kar dekh,
Shayad udna seekh jayega,
Agar gir bhi gya to kya,
Tu fir bhi udna seekh jayega.

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sell them to buy tequila.

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