Often it feels like I am breathing today only because a few years back I had no idea which nerve to cut...

You write poems with your fingertipsAnd I keep listening to the songs written on my skinBy some distant dream, similar wordsBut the verses never meet...

It’s not TIME that heals everything, it is SLEEP...Sleeping is the perfect answer to all doubts and troubles.Leaving the world of reality behind and disappearing in to a world of make-believe and imaginations, is a solace you get from nothing else...

What broke your heart so badThat you had to close every door, That you say you have a dark soulAnd can't utter the word 'love' anymore?

One can simply never take back the words he spoke.And when you know you unintentionally did hurt someone, instead of letting it go or keeping a distance from that person, you can actually do something to mend the broken. That's the least we can do, when circumstances never are on our side; we can stick to our words and promises even if people change and fate ruins..

Someday I will pick up shells of every colourAnd probably even rob the sea of its wonderYet I won't find a single pieceThat'd resemble the broken pieces I gathered years agoThinking those grains of sand were whole

She awaits the rain like a writer embraces metaphors,A drizzle isn't for the child who dances in the storm.Of rain that washes away the petrichor it brings,A downpour of a hail of bullets, and she calls it spring.

My world is a million shattered pieces put together, glued by my tears, where each piece is nothing but a reflection of YOU.

Maybe that's what writers do-Maybe they exaggerate pain just so that you feel okay about what you're feeling.