My Silence

I try to find the words that we all are afraid to say.
I understand what isn’t said,
And that makes me distinct among different people. 
I confide in others,
Who only confide our confidence with everyone else.
So I choose to stay silent.

The passion,
The pain,
The anguish you bring.
My wisdom is here but it stays in me.
I can’t say what I wish,
For the fear of it being heard.
For everyone to know the real me,
Even if I don’t utter a single word.

The confusion you cause,
The way I don’t talk,
Points out all my flaws.

The questions you flare,
The rumours you start,
The rumours you bear.

My silence is my weakness,
I’m the only one who knows that.
That is, until I break and end up confiding in private.
Confiding in private what soon will be broadcasted to everyone.

My Silence. Still silent.

The Song that Plays Inside My Heart

Every morning it awakens me
A soothing tune with every beat
It does not change, it stays the same
A sweet melody on repeat
I open my eyes and it gives me drive
It fuels my fire as I strive
It’s a sound of comfort and security
A feeling of love surrounding me
It gave me strength when I was weak
The volume increased, the lyrics speak
It took me a while to figure it out
But now I know what it’s all about
I open my heart and I take heed
I let the tune guide and lead
It keeps me warm when the world gets cold
My shelter, my shield from things untold
It never gets old or skips a beat
It lifts my spirits and makes me complete
It is how everyday ends and how every day starts
With “The Song that Plays Inside My Heart”

Life Sucks!

When I got enough confidence,
The stage was gone.
When I was sure of losing,
I won!
When I needed some people the most,
They left me.
When I learnt to hide my tears,
I found a shoulder to cry on.
When I was busy,
I got friends.
When  I mastered the skill of hating,
Somebody started loving me.
When I started loving,
Somebody mastered in “hating” me.
After waiting for dawn,
I fell asleep..
and the sun came out.
That’s Life
and at times
it can suck!

Wide Awake!

Alone I sit…
Alone I breathe…
Eat, sleep, seethe, and dream.
Can’t shake this feeling of loneliness
This cold isolation of emptiness.
Step out from this hole i call home
Where society looks estranged.
People everywhere, yet still I feel alone
Cut off from this place.
Alone again I sit in silence and solitude,
Able to breathe once more.
I lie awake with echoes of music in the air.
Thinking about my life and what went wrong,
But I still have yet to find the answer.
Slowly my eyes begin to close..
As I fall into another world
Dreams oh dreams!
How so you comfort me
And torture me all the same…
But in the end I will always find
That I am wide awake. 

Poetry and Me

Most of the time, it brought me sheer pleasure. Sometimes, it brought me disquieting, indescribable feelings that only I could very well comprehend. To put these feelings into a deeper perspective, I express them into words that most people could not grasp but clearly illustrate the hindsight of my existence.

“What will I be without it?” is a question I wouldn’t dare entertain. For I know that mainly thinking of it would cause me pain.

A lot of people had appreciated its beauty but I do think that they relished it only superficially. Because behind the beauty of poetry are hidden messages that only the poet could very well empathize with although the readers could put so much meaning to it.

Poetry is like casting a stone on the ocean. It will cause ripples on its first touch, and as it is surrounded by the ocean’s immensity, the stone is bound to go deep. And the more you are entangled by its artistry, the more you are immersed until you get lost in its beauty.

And so I live with it. At times I feel like I cannot do without it. And even though some of my friends say that, “Poetry only makes people harder to understand,” I would like to always be part of it.

Then maybe, I’ll know why Sylvia and Anne had the greatest compulsion to kill themselves and be considered as one of the most sought after poets of all time. Or why E.E. Cummings had to disengage from the conventions of society and be well known for his avant-garde innovations, controlling both the looks and content of his poems.

Or maybe then, I will be able to understand why I keep on reading other people’s poems and not my own!

“…and I wrote the first faint line, faint, without substance, pure nonsense, pure wisdom of someone who knows nothing…”

turn and walk

I cant stand on my own two feet.
But my mind wont give into defeat.
I hate to admit when im broken inside.
You’ll never hear the truth, you’ll only see me cry. 
I dont like depending on someone else.
I want to do everything all by myself.
I hate to say it but i need you right now.
But i dont blame you for leaving, im just a let down.
Honestly though im weak, weaker than you think.
I try my best to float, but im beginning to sink. 
I dont know why, but i cant do this alone anymore.
I wish you still needed me, like you did before.
I pushed you away, you were wise to turn and walk.
But i miss you alot and my thoughts are growing dark.
Maybe this was intended, ive lost my way for sure.
I just dont want to need you as much anymore