Carry your world


Time, age, numbers, limits
all these constraints that have tied me
I wonder if I will ever feel free
to let my heart wander to the lands unknown
project the depth of my love
I have never shown
And be free to carry his world in my arms
while I also take his hurt with me
unburdening him of his fears,


When you are tired of being strongĀ 

It was a long time ago
When she shielded her heart
Broken a little by her present
A little by her past
And she learned to act strong
In the face of adversity
So much that
She never lived fully
When the good days arrived
She doubted the bad it will bring
But in aridity
She learned to sing
One day someone left her again
Knowing that she was strong
So she could cope
Never did she feel so broken
Devoid of hope
Than when her strength finally broke her!

Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation

They planned their goodbyes
it was the time for departure
One was meant to stay
and one had to leave, for the sake of future
future that could not have her
but only his career
they parted ways
they could no longer be together
and they were fine
giving up on each other
but when the lover vanished from the eyes
in hearts, there was a strange commotion
love did not know its own depth
until the hour of separation.



Fairytales astonish us
So do stories of magic
We believe in the stroke of luck
that no end will be tragic
Happy endings sell
misery drives us away
reflecting our inability
to say
or to accept
that our stories won’t be magical
people will come, they will leave
and endings will not be beautiful.

After all, can you really keep something
that doesn’t want to stay?



The thread of time is getting short
with each day that goes
On one end of the string I am
with an urge to hold
this string tightly
so the grip is never loose
Wanting you to stay
but forced to choose
to hold onto it
with a little ease
so even if hearts break
fingers don’t bleed
because if they do
the scars will show
that we want to stay,
and never let go.

Beyond the breaking point

Pencil with broken lead. Image shot 2006. Exact date unknown.


All those drafts that have disappeared before me
are the words I could never set free
with a tongue so tied, hands leashed
between the lines, if you could read
you will find the truth hidden in lies
if I could say all those things
I did try.

But words never reached my mouth
and if our lines don’t join
I think my words will no longer make meaning
beyond the breaking point.

Eligible for love

My pain wasn’t profound
I did not need any healing
because when it was compared to the pain of someone else
it wasn’t a big thing
so every time my heart broke
my pain was marginalised
I was told I don’t need to be loved for it to cure
that it was not a tide
Busy in the comparison of my pain
they failed to notice the ruptures
and they said I wasn’t eligible
I wasn’t eligible for love.