Fall (Autumn)

This is not a love poem

This is not a sad poem
It’s a poem

About how every time 

at this point of year

My heart’s somehow convinced 

To fall in love 

With a stranger 

That my eyes have barely met with

Twice

Yet my heart lurches 

At the pacing of their

Footsteps 

The resonation 

Of their giggle

Strumming 

The wires 

Connected to my brain

Hammering 

A voice in me
It’s that season of the year

Where I wear flannels

Ironic of me to justify the season

Since I’m covered in flannels

All the time
It’s the time of year

Where my heart’s 

Convinced of falling in

Love 

And it’s certain

Of the fact that 

This time things are going to be 

A little different 
Little does my foolish 

Heart know 

Fall does not justify falling in love

Leaves sure will rejuvenate

But my heart

I’m quite not sure.  
He’s too nice

But the pumpkin spice latte

Doesn’t make it up for it

I have always been an americano person

How can someone be so nice?
But he’s hope

In form of everything I ever wanted

Every shred of pieces that I 

Looked up in people 

He’s all of them at once 

Something I have never gotten used to

Perhaps never will

Because what is the identification of love

When you are no longer obsessed with the feeling to possess it?

What is complete love?

Is it the spring after the winter?

Or is it the fall?

Something 

My body won’t ever understand

Because hope is just undiscovered disappointment.

Penultimate 

Feeling a little exposed like the blue sky today

I unbuttoned my shirt made out of 

My self respect and left it on the floor. 
And now you stand before my naked self,

As you are about to speak

Of the horrors that unveil 

Through marks and bruises 

You see on me. 
There’s a warmness in words,

Of a certain kind

Like the tropical suburbia 

I have found in my mothers eyes
As I open my mouth try to 

Deliver dry pleasantries

In form of small talk,
You stop,

Raise your hand

And before I can speak

You slide your hand down

My wind pipe

And reach towards my heart

You want to hold it in your

Hands 
You caress it

With gestures

You tell it

That it’s going to be alright
And now you’re staring

right Into my eyes 

You tell them to be kind

Because the world

Is longing for such eyes
Your hand caresses my stomach,

Tells the churning to stop

Because the over acidity

Might start devouring my insides
Now you hold my shoulders

You massage them 

And you ask,

How come they don’t ache

From carrying the weight of the world.

But my bones crackle

That the sound of your voice 

Isn’t that the sign 

That they have been tired for far too long? 
And now you’re on your knees

You hold my legs

And say 

What a wonderful life it has been, 

Yet I shouldn’t be getting tired

For now the journey isn’t over
It’s a long way home, 

It’s a long way home. 

More happy than not

But how is that everyone I come across falls to pieces right in front of me?Hoping that I’d pick them up. 

When I’m the kind of person

Who’s enjoy someone’s misery out. 

———

Why is that I’m the kind of person 

Who sees a person right through

I don’t want to hold that power 

Over someone made out of sand and glass. 

When a little pebble could be a demise 

Of glass

But here my heart is made out rock. 

———

Nobody likes to come off as vulnerable

In a world of insecurities

Then how do they keep crumbling down

Hoping to find hope in a demented mind as mine. 

I have never done any good to myself 

So I could do anything for them?

—–—

Maybe they see something good in you,

Do you do it on purpose?

As words gather at the tip of my tongue 

There’s lump in my throat

No, no it isn’t guilt. 

I never felt guilty for doing any of it. 

What bothers me 

How I do no good to people 

Who have been good to me all along 

I don’t feel awful.

———

Not even a tinge of remorse prevails in my heart or mind.

How much of that do you think is actually because of how you are and not because that’s how you became overtime. 

I’d never know. 

Sadism

1

2

Strip me off my flesh
Expose the fragile interior

Do you see marble

Pumping through veins

Or the cracks expose

My vulnerabilities
3

4

Slit open my heart
Through 

The jab you created

With your knife 

Does the seams 

Connect together to flow

Affection

Or the darkness has engulfed my heart

And made my blood thinner?
5

6
Crack open my skull
Do you see the my brain

Preaching your name like

A mantra?

As  voices echo through 

The mountains. 
What is more beautiful

The mountains

Or my mind resonating

You over and over again?
8

9
Blow kisses on my exposed 

Frame

Because that’s the only thing

That makes you feel good about yourself
10

Stitch me up

And pretend 

You have never cut me up

But that’s the only way 

You can breathe. 

Segregated lovers 

And you couldn’t Fall asleep

It’s another velvety night 

Where you’d like to stargaze 

Not the sky but his eyes
But they’re not anywhere near you,

You look at moon 

Hoping he looks at it too,

One way you get to look down 

Into his eyes
And see if they’re in love with yours or not 

Hoping he sees your naked soul 

Through them 

As you trace down yours from his 

Eyes to his lips

As they part to say

But you pin them 

As they open at core
As you take the marble slabs 

To Chisel your chipped 

Corners

That your past lovers broke off you

You hope 

That this one doesn’t doesn’t tarnish 

Your pieces

But gilds them through your soul 

But not just your grandeur marvel

Temple
As you slowly get gripped with evanescence 

You passionately ruffle through his hair

As the thought crosses your mind

The monuments turn to dust

So will your body

But his words 

Will forever linger

In your mind

In your mouth

On your tongue. 

Soulmates

When I was youngerI used to write letters 

To my older self

I used to mention 

Of the stars,

And the hidden possibilities 

Of the universe,

Thinking that

Perhaps all of us

Ultimately have

A soulmate

 in the form

 A life partner

Or a best friend 

Or even a lover. 

My younger self

Was probably a 

Love struck fool

Until it begin to

Write,

Today as I write

This I found a 

Soul mate

It didn’t set a 

Fire in the 

Pit of stomach,

It gave out sparks

Sparks, so bright

Which could 

Radiate light

For the whole 

Universe 

Sparks,

Which created a 

Whole another

Universe in the forms

Of oceans. 

I have got oceans inside

In which I’m not sinking 

But soaring

With the tides 

Peace,

Inexplicable 

Euphoria

Or Nirvana

I can’t say. 

My soulmate 

Wasn’t another human 

It was myself 

Obscured 

Within these 

Words

These sparks 

Which 

Burned bright 

At full brightness 

That’s when I knew 

The whole world 

Was art,

In it’s own way,

Everyone had stories 

To begin with 

Art in the form

Of kisses,

Hugs

Which resonated 

Poetry 

At every new beginning 

A writer made me see. 

A writer made me see. 

Homo sapiens; The Plague

When asked what was the worst thingAmong humanity?

Some answered, religion

Some answered god

Some answered race. 

Some answered love

And some, heart break

I answered humankind

Human kind,

Is it a blessing or curse?

To contemplate everything

Beyond focal matter?

Was it its habit

Or an order to function,

One could not tell

People pondered over my statement

Human kind is the worst

Plague that hit humanity it’s self

They gawked at me

As if my statement was an

Abomination,

While the greed has grown 

So much

Humans don’t comprehend

The fact, that survival 

Isn’t breaking each others

Back to succeed

Or climb,

It’s the death of whole humankind

The killings,

The bombings,

They are not carried out to insure peace

They’re the chaos of this world

And the greed of humanity 

Which humanity fails to see

Yet they proclaim love is 

Everything wrong in today’s world

But how can they say, 

If they haven’t started to love themselves?

Love begins from One’s self

All this selfishness how can it generate 

Love within?

They fail to see,

Love is the second name of peace,

And if they haven’t made peace with their demons,

How can everything be at it’s place today?

They’ll fail over and over again,

Until they make peace 

And stop letting their demons run 

Free in the name of success. 

Love is the second of name of peace,

But they blame love?

When they should blame themselves 

For falling in love with the wrong person,

Love is irrevocable and unconditional 

It has no control I know. 

But love isn’t buying 

Flashy things,

Love isn’t spoil each 

With expensive pleasantries 

It’s caressing someone’s

Insides with the warmness 

Of the heart

But how can that happen

If their heart isn’t beating blood

But concrete? 

I matter to myself

I write you poetry
I define you in words,
Because I love you.

Not because of the hurt
You inflicted upon me
By saying it was a joke.

I'm okay with being 
The humor in your life
If that makes you smile.

But I'm not okay
With not being loved .
Being an option.
I matter,
I matter,
And I will always matter 
To myself first
If not to you.

Depression

Depression my old friend,
We speak as,
He greets me,
He sits down to have tea with,
Wondering how many of us are having
A conversation with him,
We, who entirely have no clue as to why it
Decided to be friends with us,
It started off with a loss of interest
In our daily activities,
Gradually clutching our feet,
Dragging us beneath the ground,
Where it shackled our feet,
While our face was the only thing that remained in
Contact with the air, it felt like it wasn’t there at all,
We heave for breathe and yet make it seem alright
When in reality all we can taste is sand in our mouth,
Sand in our lungs,
Instead of engulfing air,
To let out a cry for help,
We spew sand,
Yet we have grown so immune,
That we have automatically learned to
Be pretentious about how we have wings
And we are floating amongst everyone,
It’s a competition, if we stagger we’ll be left behind,
And in today’s world we are the wild youth,
But what everyone doesn’t know,
Some of us aren’t rebellious,
Some of us are burning and fading away
Slowly fading away,
And nobody is taking the interest to notice,
When we really want someone to,
to free us of these shackles,
Shackles which have killed our interests,
In friends family and what not,
We’re slipping into the abyss,
Drowning into this oblivion of meaningless void,
And in this tunnel, there’s no light,
But sheer emptiness,
Will the suffering ever stop,
As we contemplate to slice open our wrist,
Some of us waiting to be drowned at the bottom of the ocean,
Hoping that maybe one day instead of the very earth
We’ll taste water and that is when we’ll be free
While many of us have already drowned and went unnoticed,
We have gathered here to raise our voice against this tuxedo specially  altered to fit our body and our soul,
The void, it’s dark and cold inside,
It trickles and makes our skin sweat,
It gives us a crawling sensation on our neck,
Only to realize they’re the very demons
Inside of our heads,
Sprinting like trees against the wind
To break our bones,
And they’ve succeeded in breaking our will,
But how long before they reach up to our spine
And piece by piece deconstruct our spine
Make us it’s slave.
Prayers don’t heal,
Hymns don’t fix it away,
Talking doesn’t help,
When will everyone understand
That it’s not a phase,
How everyone is tragically romanticizing
The demons,
Those are everything wrong with today’s youth,
How they’re being masqueraded as angels,
When they’re the devils in disguise.
We are writing this poem in hopes of a wake up call,
And as we feel today we stand in solidarity battling
Our way through,
One there will be an earth on which this wouldn’t be considered a taboo,
A phase.
It will be considered a serious issue
And we won’t be teens anymore
Trying to sum up our wasted youth
Which was taken away by this demon,
Into a poem,
And I’ll hope there won’t be others like us,
Waiting to be heard.

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