“Love is a job doer and a man slayer. Both equally efficient, until the taste of it is most felt on the cold side of the ribs.”

When I say I love you, I mean something raw something below the surface of all waters; something almost too naked and true!

Like her name, some people are best left scrouged on the skin.

I’ve been quiet most of today. By which I mean I can see myself in the mirror; And believe me it is something hard to look at these days.

I guess you’re the bee and the stings all at once; By which I mean you’re the reason I wrap these tired bones around every aching thing.

In the end the salt calls the ocean home; and I guess this is why drowning has always been a part of loving you.

I guess this has been my confusion; where I went wrong. Thinking that love could possibly come as a thing without the burns.

To me there was only ever you!

I knew you would leave someday; And from there a poet will be born from the ashes.

There’s not much I know about forgetting. By which I mean I can hear her name from a distance; and it still breathes cold in my chest.

Respect pain. Every heartfelt word is first born from sadness.

I’m a drunk poet; and I guess maybe I sipped too much of what I couldn’t buy of her.

I held my breath underwater and felt surrender in my lungs; maybe this too counts as love.

And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.

Today I can see the cracks on the wall they’re visible; but I can tell they are finding their way to soil, And so am I.

Maybe water is not entirely lost when soaked into sand. Maybe it finds a better resting place to call home; and I hope she did too.

All through the depression, I was the soft toy in the hands of a baby with sharp teeth.

We come into the world alone and we die alone.

I am tired of being the frontline to other peoples war if i must die today may it be for myself.

Find what you would die for and live for it.

I saved a spider from death. Stuck on the smooth white curvature, Almost drowning in the bathtub of regret. Eight eyes looking up at me, a face he will never forget.

Love is all about uncertainties. If certainly comes in love, love dies.

The only problem with closures is that you think you want it but in reality, it just kills a dead hope.

I had been dead inside for so long that now I want to ‘freaking’ live.

I stare at the moon for that undying confidence to shine alone.