Whatever I write is what I have loved
Whatever I do not write is what I have lived

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life is a dream you chose to live in or live as..

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Childhood is a dream I still wake up for..

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" why am I who I am "

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Think before u kneel down again..
God does not need your prayers
You need your prayers

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**3 centimetres of wood away**

I rushed in and shut the door behind.
A million stars weren't following me anymore..
Misplaced alleys, that slept with the dying shimmers of an afternoon,
except for some rats and the homeless,
I didn't hear them call my name anymore..
The sweat on my back shivered being just 3 centimetres of wood away from an aimless rain..
Crashing on cremation pyres and crimson corpses,
Only to end up gasping on the edge of a window pane..
When an air around you is dry of some unimportant sinner's sabotage,
you breathe it..
I breathed them.
Almost all,, until it felt like suffocating on some mellow lyrics of a lullaby..

For on one side of the door, there was a world..
And on the other, mine.

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In a residue of some leaking lights atlast..
I saw the wind on a frosted glass...

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Followed by some blank pages...

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Not like the bird you set free..

But like the sky you cannot cage..

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Why do the crickets call tonight, not so loud ?

Why do the stars gleam tonight, not so bright ?


Is it only because I kiss you, not so fast ?

Or is it also because I hug you, not so tight ?

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