truth

Life Is Not Easy

Life is not easy when

she cries at night and smiles

in the morning.

Life is not easy when

people fail her and yet

she still has to fight for them. 

Life is not easy when

the thought of her being content 

becomes a wild thought for others. 

Life is not easy when

her own people look down on her

because of all the things she loves. 

Life is not easy when

her will to live is dampened 

just by hurtful words. 

Life is not easy when

people tell her that she’s a burden and yet

they can’t live without her. 

I Try To Forget You, Anyway

I try and line myself on the edge of my bed 

to keep your thoughts at bay, but you

make an appearance in my dreams anyway. 

I try to pack up your thoughts in my jewelry box

but I want to wear my favorite earrings anyway, everyday. 

I try to convince myself that I love winter, but you are my sun

and it rose every morning anyway. I did everything I could

to forget you, but the outline of your lips resembled the petals

of the flowers that I held and kissed everyday. 

***

Some thoughts, you just can’t push them away. 

He Loved Her ‘Til There Was a Flower Left

In the first week, the plant was bountiful with flowers

The time he loved her sweet

The promises that they would keep.

The trust, they both would reap.

In the second week, down came 

the unforeseeable rain

Their fights, all in vain, as they ended their days 

In each others’ arms 

Under the shadow of the candle’s flame. 

In the third week, there was an unforgivable storm

More than half of the flowers were gone. They saw less

Of each other. Pieces of him in her and her in him

They remained. 

In the fourth week, the clouds started to calm, but 

Grey they still were. Only one flower perfectly poised, remained.

The one he had saved for her. 

*** Young love that is short and simple, yet passionate burns fast, my friends. But the scars always remain.***

Flowers Drenched in Rainwater

Flowers drenched in rainwater 

O, how heavy you must feel!

Thoughts cascading down the edges of my shoulders

Overwhelmed, by the burden, I kneel. 

I bend to pick up the flowers 

My mind- not wanting to be kind

It only wants to pick up the pretty ones

And leave the withering ones behind. 

My heart warns myself, not to be fool’d 

“Look down at your own hands” it says

Graceful and delicate, now they are

But failing the tests of time one day

your own skin will slowly wrinkle away.

Shimmering Golden On My Bed

I was told that life is hard

We must search for bliss

Mother said “Look at the drooping flowers”

“Their beauty, always amiss.” 

The highs and lows of society

And all the blood that is shed

Mother said “Always maintain sobriety”

“When challenging life gets.”

Although, I never understood a word

That mother had said. For, when I lay 

Awake at dawn, shimmering golden on my bed

I remembered mother’s words “Life is not a bed of roses.”

A quote she had said

But in bliss I found myself, shimmering golden on my bed. 

***

Someone once asked me “What makes you happy? What do you live for?” I said “I live for the littlest things; they are the ones that make me happy. Like the rising sun and the falling rain, when people smile after they fight off their pain.”

I Will Confess, Only After Death

Twas the mellow glint in thy eyes

So subtle, yet bright

Like a candle casting its light

I- your shadow in disguise.

Seldom, we spoke

An encore of our conversations, my early thoughts

When I woke. Your presence in my mind

long lived like the Oak. 

O, but in thy heart, there was some other

The truth, only leaving me bereft

Your unending presence, myself- tethered

Alors, perhaps, I will confess my love, only after death. 

***

Loving someone feels great, but not being loved back?

 

Is it even worth it?

All the blood and the violence and
the tearing apart
What could have been a flower
Turned into brutal hearts

What could have been resolved
With words and understanding, but you chose
to show power by bleeding your own people
And then with more killing

At His mercy, we were given power
So we could bring people to life
But all those acts of gratitude
By people who only connive

All Your Faces

All your faces, mere illusions
Mask beneath masks, the farther I went
The more I speculated reality- the weight of it
Or mayhaps the burden
On my frail outlines, I tried to hold
Only to crumble down on me
The closer I became to you
More distant I felt and stranger
I grew
Every moment I spent
When our eyes met, smiles synced, secrets lent
Your proximity felt imaginary
It could be, I share too much and trust
Too much and you- adept in the art of camouflage
And fooling me
But
Oh, beware, as I observe and just as cunning
To reach your core, when you lay bare
With your truth, facing right back
At you.

Sanity

The minute hand passing by

Pages turning over

Nietzsche and then Karl Marx

Philosopher after philosopher

Trying to make sense of my vanished balance

Still squandering, dust within my fingers

Gracefully falling

On dissipating grounds beneath my feet

Serenity evaporated through that ground

Only to be vanquished by what was more

Powerful- my mind.

Answers, not even one held. As they watched,

Through the glass, all the passer-by’s, between

The books and pages, staring back. Right at me.

Your Smile

And in those rare instances when we spoke, when I tried to maintain my equilibrium, my thoughts, when I tried to remain calm on the inside, it would all work. But then you would smile- mischievously and the corners of your eyes and your mouth would form soft crinkles, it would be like light radiating at the end of the tunnel. I would indulge myself in it, without knowing and I knew how that one action of yours was enough to capture a thousand hearts, even if you didn’t want to. It was infectious, almost like a disease, but a good one. I was unsure of how far our un-begun story would go, but when you smiled at me, it was like love knocking at the doors of my heart.