You don’t exist in this universe
I’m living in,
the happiest version I’ve ever been
But then again,
Something is always missing.

Am I a soul or a set of skills?
Am I a woman or just your desire?
When will I be free from everyone’s perspectives?
And when will It burnt,
My fire

Thorns disguised in your arms,
Where I let my trust slowly unwind.
A trap, a maze,
Pure evil in your gaze.

I was disposable.
But how could I tell?
Intertwined, passing the days.
You were patient, you set the pace.
And when you had to,
didn’t hesitate,
dug my grave.

You ground the **** out of me.

I expected a
flawless dive,
My Olympic-gold Diver.
So I put you 32.8 feet  
off the ground—
Above the chlorine glare,
  levelled with my expectations.
Just for you to ******* slip—
hard and graceless.
Right in the last minute.

Your recent visit in my dreams was bitter
I held my arms up for a truce;
still aching, you were witter
I’ll rate it a 3/5
(you have been sweeter)

You are just a stranger
In a familiar body
I’m still holding onto.

Walking blindly into the path of happiness,
it’s been a long time since I’ve followed it,
This time I’m not watching my steps.

I took care of it,
I wore it, - but just -on special occasions
No matter how little,
I cleaned every stain of it
I packed it so carefully
That I forgot I even had it.
Then the flood came,
And the mould grew,
I found it in my suitcase
Completely ruined.
And then I remembered
Why it was so special
I wore it the first night
I ever met you

What an irony—
an over-prepared traveller,
first at check-in,
practically airport-camper—
sprinting, breathless,
for the only flight
that truly matters.
Bring what you can—
No luggage claim planned

Every now and then I remember
My willingness in the floor
The coldest shoulder,
The cruelest heartache.
A bittersweet reminder
That eventually,
life becomes way kinder

Holder of all keys
Of every soul you meet
you bear in your talk,
the most sweet, agile dance
Glance-stealer,
Maker of tears,
Locksmith of hearts
You never knock on doors
Because they know..
As I know now
they shouldn’t let you in,
But show you the way out

All the poison micro-dosed
In the form of your affection,
Thoughts of your laughter,
Circulating in my veins.
Relieved now, I can gladly state
All of it, has finally left
My spirit and flesh

What am I—
if not a seed
of a tree
of romantic branches,
Who taught those before me
How everyone and everything
Hums with daydreaming and glee ?

Another generation passes;
a family heirloom to me handed—
Vintage, well-preserved:
rose-coloured, polarised glasses

Why would I care for your situation?
My oppressor, my tormentor
Make no mistake,
If I’m ever curious about your sake,
I’ll be at the verge of losing all
My so-called “common sense”

You have the luck of the Irish—
Life grants your every wish.

Balanced, always landing on your feet.
Jupiter-kissed, earthed on a Thursday.
Warm as a summer Sunday,
With a sprinkle of cool, sharp wit.

A soul prone to rumination,
A trait you don’t hide— you admit.

Perhaps your moon aligning with my sun
Is why you left me such an impression.
Am I enlisting your perks,
or writing a confession?

I can’t seem to find the words
for how your eyes squint when you smile—
to you, a quirk of genetic design,
to me, a proof, a striking sign:

Lady Luck herself,
has finally taken my side!

I guess I’m not a ‘good sport’
Yours is the only game I’ve truly lost
Yes, I didn’t take it well,
My personal, favourite hell
The rage, the pain, all still there
I wish I could say
“I wish you farewell”

I got used to be non-worthy
All of those years
Love given to me so poorly