A raped soul....
When you bare your heart to the one you love,
A simple gesture in return is something we deserve,
But when I see you simply reading those heartfelt texts to never reply,
It makes me question,
Does it even matter to you, the amount of courage it takes to show You My vulnerability?
Did you start taking me for granted?
Coz I'm feeling so, it kills me to know that expressing my feelings, removing the filters, baring my soul has been belittled to such a scale.
I wonder if you even noticed that I've stopped writing poems for you,
I had to, it seemed you were just getting bored by what I have for you.
You never appreciated the mere fact that there's a person...
A ticket for my lonesome
I've kept one reserved for me,
Tunes change when I raise my eyes,
To my ears they're all a Bleak
Deep blurry sights
My blurs defines on you,
Measuring depths in the freezing waters,
You're the sun's lukewarm soothe
--I waited for you--
I have nothing left in me
The seed you once planted
Has its roots dig in deep
My Palm creases dropping on those tender green leaves
I have waited for you,
I have waited for you,
Waited for you throughout the summer accord,
Have you ever thought what did it all cost?
The past holds stories of what it meant for me,
Of how I dissolved myself in this juvenile spree,
And you still have no clue,
Why I wanted to hold you
Craved till my death,
Of how I waited for you,
I waited for you...
-- 'I' Black plague! --
Walk Me to the blood moon bay,
A shard deep,
A shard awake,
Thrusting you pierced my heart Outta my chest,
Disdained me in sharpen cold flakes,
Your feet warm smudging,
traced my face
As if I were,
some left to die black plague.
-the rose of envy-
The way you smile when you think of him, makes me envy him more.
I wonder if you have that glimmer in your eyes when when you talk about Me.
He's the past I know, but the mere fact that you can't stop thinking about him in small things makes me feel insecure.
You don't always say these same things about Me, I don't even know if you talk about me.
How do I not compare myself with him, when you never bothered telling me -that I'm better! that there's a reason I was chosen, that you will love me more than what I have for you, that I'm the one who's reached a part of you that no one ever has.
And all I ever did is think, that I was chosen when there was no ...
How a few lines she said can make you question your faith,
Did you love her truly only to be this afraid?
But what does even she expect,
When she never talked to me about whats there in my head,
deep roots reaching my spine,
All he ever needed was an assurance of what she meant by those lines,
She never did, even when asked,
It became quite evident how much his misery matters for her.
A victim of unscathed drapes
Fell on my sharps
leftovers rags fluttering,
Crimson on his back
Floating on silent waters,
Ripples from falling raindrops were the closest wave,
The number of droplets smashing on his temple,
Were equivalent to the red that dripped from his bruise,
It was a scene,
that made a MURDER look beautiful
In all genres of cold blooded kills
Lying on the waterbed
Water tending his wounds
Red dripped from places
People would say he's a victim,
He was a murderer
His vulnerability his tool
It pierced mighty deep
Hands held those side rails
Painting them too
In bright clumps of blo...
I’m a fire,
Soothe me in,
Absorbing my ire,
I’m that whiskey too amber
One's that leaves behind bitter aftertastes....
viscid streaks of oil paint,
Poured on her neck,
Fabricless her body was the perfect canvas under veil,
Dripping slow merging with her moist skin
She soaked in just enough pigments for another artpiece of Michaelangelo,
A live sculpt of carrera white,
The marble held variants in colours I didn't know names of,
Covering her red underneath,
Her eyes, undeterred
I'm a compulsion on her part
For there are no options, she said.
The day she is given one,
I'd be left, stranded, alone,
All because I didn't know what satisfies her anymore,
Toxicity diffusing in my plain,
I would corrode,
And when I fall,
I'd be flowing iron,
These cogs in my brain are working a bit overtime it seems,
And it's now that it wants to make me into a poet...
Them symphonies stand still,
My broken Charade uphill has almost sucked the air Outta my chest.
The slight tinnitus intensifying as the ground beneath shrinks in hazy geometric patches.
Ephemeral are things you see,
at the cost of your breath actually been taken.
It hit a plateau, right now all I see is a bland pale white. Nothing piques my interest. Looks like there are deficient walls, deficient efforts from my side, from hers.
She asks me to not show like it only matters to me. How do I tell her, I ain't showing shit. If she sees it, it means the effort is there.
If mine shows why not yours?
And everytime I confront you about where this is going, what's happening to Us, I only get a recorded reply- I DON'T KNOW!
That's the problem babe-Do you?