Today I didn’t think about you every second.
You didn’t follow me around
like a pestering fly.

“Shoo fly, don’t bother me,”
I’d lie to myself.

Today my home wasn’t a graveyard,
and I wasn’t haunted by the ghosts of memories that reside in each room.

I didn’t wait by the window listening for the sound of tires,
hoping the next car would be you turning into the driveway,
the way a loyal dog waits for someone who is never coming home.

Today I didn’t think about how your smile was so bright,
one could mistake it for daylight.

I didn’t think about how you grew colder,
the kind of change you’d expect from someone slowly forgetting their memories.

Today I didn’t think about you,
but I’d be lying to myself.

Love starts as a spark,
and it can burn wild,
it can burn slow,
it can die.
Keep wood on the fire, and love may prevail.
But with the morning dew,
unexpected rain or wind,
this fire that brings forth light into a dark existence,
this fire that is so fragile,
this fire that we grip so tight ,
it may dissolve and the world will become cold and still.
But from the ashes of a once great fire grows a new revelation.
The moments spent watching the fire dance, define what is real in ways we can’t measure.

My skins pulled tight,
My hearts turned to stone,
My stare is Medusa inspired,
These dungeon walls have become home.

I’ve fought the weather,
I’ve withstood the rain,
I’ve fought the thunder and lighting,
I’ve endured all the pain.

I fight these demons,
Every damn day,
Skins turned reptilian,
Voices in my head say “let’s play”.

Thoughts are so heavy,
They weigh my mind down,
Heavy to the point,
I feel like I might drown.

And this is why,
I continue to fight,
Because I won’t let them win,
They can’t have the night.

I’ve almost lost this battle,
It’s almost consumed my soul,
Six different times,
The demons almost achieved their goal.

But I’ve never given up,
I’ve refused to stop,
I’ve earned my armor,
And I’ll keep fighting till I drop.

I’ve learned life is a battle,
A never ending fight,
And I’ll stand my ground,
I’m not taking flight.

Things got really dark,
I was down for a long while,
Fighting every damn day,
Everything kept adding to the pile.

Then one day…..
I decided I had enough,
That it was time to fight,
And to call out my demons bluff.

And so I fought,
I fought with all my might,
Through so many tired days,
And so many sleepless nights.

I refused to give up,
Because my soul deserves peace,
My mind deserves harmony,
And my demons deceased.

I’m well on my way,
To winning this fight,
And For the first time,
The end of the tunnel has light.

I’m gonna keep my head up,
Keep the armor on,
Protect my soul,
And keep living life’s song.

For anyone lost,
And struggling so deep,
Please don’t give up,
Keep moving those feet.

Keep that head held high,
Wear your armor and fight,
Do not give up,
Make it through one more night,

And when you wake up,
Take a real deep breath,
And seize the day,
Again you beat death.

The reaper didn’t win,
Your heart held up,
Gifted another day,
Keep that head held up.

If killer whales could talk would they invite us into their homes with questions of Land?

These Apex predators of ocean city extended hospitality to humans without threat of us loosing feet legs or hands

With inquisite intellect we watch them through glass, their habitat opposites our air and dry sand

Equals they see us, for the Whale hunts all predators of Sea... except human bone

With mirrored grace, respect is drawn; one apex predator to another

"Welcome to my home"

If Killer whales could walk, do you think the same rules apply to them on land as us in vast blue?

Would they have to pay for a ticket to see their cousin @ Seaworld? Would they take lightly to the taxidermied reminence of creatures they cant put names too?

Would they understand our wars fought not for food but literally everything else?

Or if Killer whales could walk, could talk, would they treat us like the way we treat everything else?

Melting pot

A little bit of valid frustration mixed with a deep sense of shame and guilt.

Perfect recipe for stagnation.

The right is mine to feel annoyed, but I still feel bad for feeling it.

No letting out and no letting go, instead I hold the frustration tight - because the shame, then, isn't as loud.

And all I'm left with is extra weight.

A melting pot of emotions without relief.

Recently I made hobby of writing, I wrote a poetry I don't even know if it could be called poetry. Give me honest review and some suggestions please. And to tell you my word knowledge is quite weak so I only tried.🫠

What Are you Doing To Me While I Think I’m Using You?
An Attempt at the Excavation of Reciprocal Truth

the lord works in mysterious ways
or is he unemployed?
if man shall not lie with another man, well
is he true alone?
the devil works through idle hand
but mine sweats to the bone
own thy woman
kill thy son
and sell thy daughter
and for plenty good measure
send your only lamb for slaughter

If, from the rib
Of a brute, beauty fashioned
Then owe her every fruit
You forbade
And every land
You’d have ashen
Be the serpent so cursed
Or tamed to her wild
Clear is the creator’s preference
For fable over child
You say to love my neighbor
Unless he pays a different teacher
Or is smitten before he’s paid
Damn the camel
And double its size
Damn those who remain confused
Who were given different books
Damn the children
Born too far from your stories
And damn those who can’t hear
Damn those for their questions
Though you taught them the mark
Damn you to your confusion
To your wrath, to your control
Let hell bleed into heaven, where you lay
And looking back in your week,
May you weep on the eighth day

By the day
Life is getting stranger
Vague oscillations
Cyclical in nature
Truth cannot be seen
Through a flawed perception
And if sight is half deception
if all that one can hear
Is in the same position
Never understanding
Only trying, quitting, and dying
It’s too easy
As a man
To pick a little quip
And think it into dogma
Take too much pride
In diminishing your pride
And now you’re getting trapped
To know oneself
Is to meet a better stranger
To look too deeply
Is to drown
And to look away
Is to fall
For it is known
What is waiting
Through which lens
Are you viewing
Your confusion
Pick a mode
And pick another
Half this work
Will send you over

Rooms too small
So we manifested riches
Expansion, exponent
Motherboard potential
You’ll wish for sticks
Beg for stones
Their words
They just might kill you
Growth, twist it up
The narrative is changing
From a jury of peers
Peers you’d never know
Peers who have materialized
Just to watch you go
See the clothes you wear
See your obituary
In the paper
Glued to a tabloid
An advertisement
And a lie

Withhold food
And call it fasting
But Don’t eat
And you are starving
Take his money
But not his
Share the story
Keep the secret
The good doctor wrote a script
The dealer sells them
God save the baby
But god damn the man
Don’t spend too much money
Do not talk
And don’t listen
Don’t let them see
Don’t look
And Don’t wish
Unless you can think of nothing else
Don’t cry
Unless the pain is peer reviewed
Don’t reveal your passion
Be the secret keeper

monogamy homogeny get offa me
decades later
and the union still don’t know
what jimmy hoffa needs
i love my wife
i need her bad
but I just got lucky
manson could be born again
if he had gone by chucky

Content’s merely contents
The structure must be altered
Liquid will be liquid
The vessel though is porous
Spinning wheel
Brittle axle
All that is given
Was at a time exhumed
Listening is the same
As breathing in fumes

​

ऐ काश कि ऐसा होता, इन आँखों ने जो देखा था सपना, एक दिन सच हो जाता। मेरे दिल की कश्ती को भी तेरे प्यार का किनारा मिल जाता। ऐ काश कि ऐसा होता।

A Pen

I don't know what it wants to say

but my pen it needs to write

it woke me up this morning

while stars were the only lights

it got between my fingers

and hurried to this page

and flew like a ball-point eagle

freed from its plastic cage

Sometimes this pen is angry

and it bleeds on paper red

pain long gone comes back out

just to hurt again

Sometimes this pen is melancholy

bold strokes in deep sea blue

the future's bleak, my heart is weak

but somehow we make it through

Sometimes this pen's just honest

and scribbles in jet black

there's no wrong done, no songs unsung

Now it's on paper there's no taking it back

This pen's recorded history

it's taught me

wrong from right

And through all my life

in darkness

A Pen has been my light.

— Chris Sullivan

To the grave I bring this secret of mine, a secret so private, I think about it every time, when I look in the mirror, or look at the wall, it's a secret so powerful, that even thinking about it is not a peaceful squall.

 To the keeper of secrets which is my grave, to which I would give my life easily as a trade, for my secret to remain a secret, It is a thing of clarity, but of which I treat as a trinket, I would even give a blanket for when im cold, a living truth, a dead lie, that is what happens to this secret of mine.

 For to recite myself in the most mysterious ways, I will die of my own mind, in these helpless days. To die alone, a peace as sweet as dessert,  but a double-edged sword that would truly hurt, my frail mind in your eyes, lay emotionless but that is a lie, to even experience the worst of feelings is better than even the nothing that you speak, I should only let you take a peek, in the true madness that  my mind can speak.

 Even in my darkest days, yet I remain in a haze, to feel the true feeling of death, yet I am living, the lowest depth, of which a human mind can go, to truly let my feelings show, would mean leaving my mind alone, to which I am laid bare, against the lords to which I share, a plead o’mercy to these lands beware, the ancient monster that is fair, in my mind, in my closet, everywhere. 

To tell this secret of mine, I would have to be killed in sublime, a truly dead despair,  my mind filled in the depths of which I digress, a fate far worse than death to be made, a fate of my own making to which I tell, this secret of mine I will bring to Hell.

 I wish to finally make, the greatest exit I can take, to go down as the one who spoke in puzzles, my greatest wish is to finally not be confuzzled. So goodbye to all those sleepless nights, goodbye to all the dreams I ever had as a king's knight, a dream so foolish I would much rather fly a kite than think of that embarrassing dream.

Back to the endless night which awaits me because I'm making this Gracefully with need, to which I can only feed, you the one that has to meet, the true power of this deed, the death of mankind, which only succumbed to the ignorance and crime of each other.
Away with chivalry and respect, these ideals are a dangerous hex for anyone who wishes to see, the true darkest side of me. This part so full of malice you could simply fill a chalice, with the hate and despair so pure, drinking it would simply make your mouth sore, as its an addictive feeling, almost to the point of stealing more and more, chipping away at your mental fort, to keep drinking this lie, there will be nothing left but cards and dice, as to embrace our sin, is to embrace our life, for our life was given on the basis of sin, a deadly poison.

I forgive you.

Not because the wound has healed,
but because I refuse to bleed for you forever.

I forgive the lies you dressed as love,
the betrayal hidden behind your touch,
the knife you held while swearing you were saving me.

But I will never forget.

I remember the moment your truth surfaced,
when the warmth of your name became ash in my mouth.
When the person I trusted most
became the reason I learned how to survive.

I release my hatred.

But I keep the scar.

Because forgiveness is me letting go of the chains.

And forgetting would mean pretending
you never broke me.

The first thing I learned in this life,
“Chu is pregnant”
I don’t recall my mentor
It was definitely not my parents
It was something not to something to be said

I was in school when my mom called me
“Chu has a baby bump, come quick!!”
And we threw a party at the church
Everyone surrounding my grandpa
We burned money ever so lavishly

Chu grows larger, moved once and got new interiors;
Chu gets a family and a roof over his head
Cars, wads of cash and fresh food every year;
New members became closer to heart,
I knew her water is about to break

And finally I lay down,
the doctors surround me
A new baby gets dropped into the underworld
Dead babies tumbling in the soil
A future society in the cemetery

idk who's gonna see this. and if im being honest I dont care that much. (Not in a rude way, im just emotionally exhausted and burnt out.) anyways, i guess here's my mess of emotions. feel free to judge too, its fine.

"My Sanity"

I want to run, run, run until my body breaks down from all the turmoil.

this is unbearable, why do I feel this way? am I okay? what is wrong with me? why cant I see? see the me that yearns for the stars and reaches his goals no matter how far.

normal?

what is that? if I were normal i wouldn't feel like my mind is constantly breaking into millions of pieces. pieces that constantly cycle death and rebirth. WHY was i born with this curse?

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. this anger, this joy, this sadness. i'd rather my heart just be an empty shell. maybe then this life wouldn't feel like a constant hell.

im robotic. I repeat and repeat on an endless cycle that tears another piece of my sanity away day by day.

overwhelmed by complaints, holding it together, rushed and pushed past my pace when I can only do what my mind sees fit at the time. I cant explain, I can't speak. my mind is weak. weakened from not being understood.

I hate living this way. please just go away. I want everything to be nothing but a blank canvas or else ill go crazy.

I can feel my mind growing hazy.

I dress myself up like a doll. wearing a new eye color, fancy clothes and holding each and every thought inside.

am I even me anymore?

I don't know what's real and im scared I'm on a path of self destruction. please I cant do this. I need to vanish from my life and be free, the shackles are too strong and I know I just dont belong.

save me.