Why doesn't it hurt people to lose me? At times I feel like maybe it's just me, maybe not everyone shows emotions like me.
Why am I expecting so much from someone when I forget people have emotions half the time?
Why is it so easy to ignore me but so hard for me to stay away for five minutes?
I then find myself thinking that it's just easier to leave me behind.
That I shouldn't have ever gotten attached to anyone, because they let me go so easily.
We were supposed to be best friends forever, remember?
But that moment came when we said goodbye in the worst way and you didn't even try.
I guess both of our lives have been easier since then, but I'm left with someone who barely talks to me even when I talk to them.
Whom of which I must ask for their attention. Yet I love them and would never ask for anything different and for that reason I never find myself wishing. I only want to know why you didn't even try to stay, maybe you can answer that someday.

once you know something it's hard not to notice it
how his gaze seems to linger
how he hugs her as if he never wants to let go
how he stares just a little too long

how behind his smile
and in his eyes
for a fleeting moment
hopelessness
is all
you
see

If God
is love
then I really
need to tell you
how intensely
I experience
God
when you're in
the room.

For if I told you that I love you
Anywhere but my poetry
It would give you the power
To walk away.
So for now I will write
'Til the pen falls from my hand.
Never not loving you
And never not denying it.

- p. winter

Why call me names
Because I am an atheist
And say we can be friends?
And if not an atheist;
Because I don’t do church
Especially the church you attend?

Is that any different
Than praying in church
To some invisible God
Sneer if you wish
And call it a sin, but
I call it more than slightly odd.

It’s not my fault
Your religion has built
Loopholes into your credo
That let the bosses
Spend billions of dollars
Protecting millions of pedos?

You religious fanatics
Might take some advice
And look to the mote in your eye
Before you cast aspersions
To the rest of the world
Because some day you will die.

Then, according to your
******* up superstition
You’ll have to deal with the cloud guy.
That thousands of years old
Idea they had way back when
They had children but didn’t know why.

You know, that guy upstairs
With the awful temper
That tells you who you get to love?
That unseen dictator guy
From a mouldy old poem.
Who runs the whole show from above.

The chlorophylls have turned up for the date today
But deep blues of gloom in the green *** of clay
Pink sunshine lips have not kissed them of late
Incessant rain has left the plant saddening

Its friend a little boy works in the roadside tea stall
For want of money he chose to be a school dropout
He is anxious that the growing plant might  wither out
Unrelenting monsoon has stopped it from growing

He shifts the green *** under a brightly burning electric lamp
Puts the *** on a bowl of water while softly caressing
The leaves with love opening the door of his lips
With smiling eyes the customers looking

Meanwhile clouds too have made way for the sun
But the boy has taken ill and the doctors say it's dengue
No money for treatment his parents can procure
They keep praying and the poor boy sinking

In spite of sunshine the plant withers again
Flickering flames at the  bed cast long shadows