Tag Archives: poems

Unnumbered thoughts

After a long break, this is what I came up with -somewhere in between sheets and dreams- on a Wednesday night.

 

My feelings are mine,
They should never be something you concern yourself with.

My feelings are for me,
To be entertained when I’m bored
Not for you to be burdened with guilt.

 

ps: Apologies, they sounded so much better in my head half asleep.

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He Is

He is lost
In the sea of bodies
Sweat and sin smelling hugs
Bed sheets that were never his.

He is drowning
In the liquids he forces his body to consume
Throat slowly corroding from the drinks that burn
A shot more to being more awesome

He is confused
Why his money makes bad company at night
If his parents are any different from ATM machines
He untangles his mind with straight lines of white
*Sometimes you just have to right regardless if you’re in the mood. Partly because maybe there are people out there who wants to read what you’ve written but mostly because you need to push yourself to write because writing is a skill that needs to be constantly polished.

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Burn

Burn

Burn,
Not bright and mesmerising,
But fast,
Slick tongues of flames,
Licking your useless being,
Edges turning pitch black,
Black like your heart,
Black like your presence,
Turning you into the ashes,
That you are worth,
Because you are nothing more than that,
Dust,
Dirty and unwanted.

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Spectrum

Her touches are the colours of warmth,
The crispy shade of dried leaves,
Crackling under the steps of old souls,
The rough edges of red bricks,
Dust and dirt filling the gaps of familiar fingerprints,
The strokes of beauty on the wide canvas of the sky,
Moments before twilight,
When the sun for once is not painful to the eyes.

Her words are a range of soothing hues,
The fresh smell of newly mowed lawn,
The same that stains scarred knees,
The comfort in laying your head on the ground,
Ends of grass that tickles the exposed skin,
Between the torn hem of worn denim
And loose ankles, sprained too many times.

She is a pantone of strength and security,
Bright and scary like a series of thunders,
During the peak of a turmoiling storm,
Deep seas reflecting the image of the sky,
But also calming ombres that darkens towards the horizon,
I was fooled to believe that they are only separated by a fine line,
When they are dimensions that never meet.

This is my version of TaySwizzle’s Red or Halsey’s Colours, whichever genre you listen to.

Also, i think i might have tried too hard with this, as much as trying too hard can get at 6 in the morning with no sleep the previous night. I only hope I do not sound pretentious in this.

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It’s been a while

I think, I think too much
And that’s another thing to think of
Besides the subject that is you
Running laps continuously around my mind
While I am always known as a slow walker
And I cannot keep up

My friends tell me they never know what I want
And I have never minded just settling with ignorance
But when every mention of you is accompanied
With multiples ‘i don’t know’
This once, I really care to know if I care for you

I seek left and right for some sort of advice
And there is one straight ahead who could help me
But how could I possibly ask you about you?
Even if your insights would be the most insightful

Timing is everything, I agree
So tell me if I should reopen this after a year
Or should I just let it go like I did three years ago?
You are 7 hours away but it does not matter
Because what are years and hours and memories?
They only make this sound more tragic than it is
When the only tragic thing is us stuck in GMT-friend

I’ll be honest, I am nervous
And if I’m lying I’d say I’ll talk to you today
All this time knowing today will never happen
Shall we trade experiences once this is over?
Today I wish for you to read this
Today I hope you could magically read my mind
Today I will stop being complicated and mess things up
All this time knowing today will never happen

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Unacknowledged

I guess it has always been inevitable,
That I was just buying time
Feeding illusions of bliss as long as I could
Stalling reality from winning the war of thoughts

No, it was not a blow
It was more of a seep
The curling of hollowness as it creeps closer
I was a ballerina dancing sur les pointes
Dodging the internal pain of rejection

This flesh is a little more broken that it should be
Then I guess I must have fallen harder than I thought
Time spent on contradicting
Feelings that should have been regarded
I’m a beggar searching for gold in specks of dust

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Who I am and who I am not

I am

The series of snapchats at 1 am,

The scribbles in between paragraphs in textbooks,

The history of incognito browsers.

 

I am not

The public Facebook post made up of likable words,

The swoosh of eyeliner on caked skin,

The vibrant colours of calculatedly edited photos.

 

I am

The person you never see,

The one who demands no attention,

The silence in a still room.

 

I am not

The controlled smile you often receive,

The heart of lively socials,

The open book with pages printed in bold.
 

I am not

Who I portray myself to be,

Not to you,

Not to anyone.

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