(hey. you still there?)

they say in different dimensions
the decisions you did not take
are the only ones that remain
for the you that exists in parallel
i wonder how she lives
is it a better life, perhaps?
'cause it's hard to say i've got a great one

(you know, you should just accept it)

there's so much, though
how do i live
how do i experience
when one decision causes me to miss out on the
what could have been's and the almosts'

(they're not always that bad)

but you say it just because
and i live
the intensity
there's so much to consume
love to give
kisses to be exchanged
hugs to be shared
feelings to be said
movies i'm yet to experience
music i'm yet to hear
books i haven't read yet
moments i haven't gone through

(why do you always think this way, this much?
i feel lighter, but there's a mess within your being)

a storm.
so much to offer
the world's got a turning pov everywhere
and it matters
'cause why would i spend my whole life living
in the same normals
the same feelings
mistakes, foreign meanings, and all the sudden dreamings
when i could have much more
just accept, sometimes go against the flow
why define
when i could be anyone i want

(it's 2:14, why are you awake, still?)

and when i see you
perhaps
after a decade
i'll still meet you with a smile on my face
and i'll be as fond of you
as i am in the present
and hope that you'll look at me
the same way, with the same glance

(just let it go)

but there's so much to hold
and there's like a million things that i'm yet to do
a thousand people i haven't come through
whispers, and confessions i haven't made
memories and feelings i haven't shared

(i've been wondering)

my head goes numb
it explodes the next thing
everything i hid, comes undone
and when you look at me
from a distance
when i don't notice
you'll see
how the mask falls
how i let it grip me
how i just change it all
and i'm the same
but with you
in front of you
i don't bleed
i put stitches, temporary as they might be
and i face you
tell you all that you dream
listen, find every single possible meaning
and maybe you don't want me
maybe they don't like me
but i do
and that'll continue
and i'll fade out
stay in background
but that's how i've always been
maybe, just maybe
there could be a parallel me
where you and i
make these decisions together
and then one day
we wouldn't have to choose
and there won't be a chance of any mistakes or another

(i love being alive)

but the parallels can't have the same thoughts
so what do i say?
admit this is all that i've got
but i'm so much more!

i dream with an innocent kindling
that sears and leaves an imprint
behind my eyes
and if you see it in just the right light
you'll see the hues
all shades — pretty, darker, sometimes a nice pastel
and often, the tiny blues

flickering imagination left to chance
dreaming about crossing the horizons
that weren't ever mine to dance
through, holding hands
i like holding hands
and touch
express it in the way you grip onto someone
say without saying
so different from living without loving

my hands collide
against the glass walls
that glimmer with condensation
from the heat of the moments
and some solemn passion

(but do you believe in them all?)

paradoxes
could be / shouldn't
maybe / wouldn't
i just hope
and hope carries all the trust
like a stream of thought
or blood in my veins
it pulses a rhythm
makes a twirl
slips through, forgiven
hurt me, give me scars
i'll trust,
for that's my part
keep it, betray it, lose it, grip it hard
i'll stay, i'll leave, i'll be present — just not here

(wipe it off.)

i do
and i look in the mirror
see what looks back
i smile at her
she doesn't laugh
she stares
frowns
judges
scowls
fumes
breathes
sighs
looks down

(you let it get to you, again?)

ants creep around the sweet
they're always on the lookout
find it, the smallest of crumbs
and suddenly they're all about
sorrow takes that place
a misspoken detail
sits, waits
grief comes up, surrounds
takes the hold
rakes me whole

(i've got something going, i'll have to hang up)

multiple things
a lot, actually
it's overwhelming
do you live?
or do you simply exist?
is it enough — all that you do?
is it okay — all that happens to you?
i want everything
yet struggle to feel anything
the voice whispers
she made braver decisions
i took the harsh ones
i hope at least she had it easy
if i couldn't bring you peace
maybe you're like her more than you like me

infinite possibilities to one single question
the line goes silent
as if the call has been dropped
but i know you're there
and i know you see it all

do you understand, however?
existentialism isn't really everything this is about
a vulnerability, the kind — i let take over when the veil drops
i reach out, i do
but it takes the stronger to notice, the weaker to hold me through

i keep thinking about it
versions of me
the ones who made perhaps the different kind of mistakes
i don't regret it
they say, "love however brief, is never wasted"
it's not mine, i wish it was
such a good thought
i wonder who wrote

sprinkles of chocolate
coating the forlorn
it's meant to give you the dopamine
one that you need to keep going on

(hey, i'll call you later — breathe for me, and stay right there?)

i've been
staying
same place, same things
the only changes — they repeat
and i wonder
if we dream the same beings
they've mapped my nightmares
collided against the sunbeams
endings ending on a happy note
hide the truth — the ones in real life go

bittersweet melancholies wrapped in stillness
silence is when it echoes
a whistle on repeat, almost
the same tune, the same voice
will you come reach out to me
when i'm long gone —
lost in a vague old memory
can we coexist?
can they do so?
can humans achieve it
and not hurt each other in the process of fitting the puzzle pieces and simply letting go?
but i guess, being roughed up is necessary
i'm yet to find myself
there's just a whole lot remaining

(i don't write that well)

my heart swells
my lungs fill up
how do i go along
knowing i could be missing out on all that just wouldn't be so wrong?

(isn't that necessary? for you to be you, for me to be me.
decisions. choices. wonders. dreams.)

so, i'll live.







(you didn't pick up my call, are you awake & alright?)
...
(i've been really good this side, are you alive?)

मनातल्या कोपऱ्यात आहे
आठवणींचा ठेवा,
ती बरोबर असण्याचा आनंद
त्यांच्याच मदतीने घ्यावा.

प्रेमात कायम जवळ असणं
हे गरजेचं नसतं,
लांब असूनदेखील मला
ओढ तुझीच असते.

सतत तुझा वाटतो अभिमान,
आनंददेखील होतो,
पण एकत्र आनंद साजरा करण्याचा
मोका माझ्याकडे नसतो.

माझी काळजी करू नकोस
असं मी कायम तुला सांगतो,
तुझ्या काळजीत मात्र मी
माझा प्रत्येक क्षण काढतो.

I was alive — when I look back.
I can preserve it, but I can’t get it back.
I want to shine, but I’m not a pearl.
I want to cry, but I’m not a girl.

This society says: “Be happy, be composed,”
But never lets us feel free and exposed.
I wore a mask I wasn’t allowed to take off.
I’m a boy in a world that calls me free —
But I’ve forgotten what free even means to me.

Moments of love feel almost medical—
but my patience for it is cold, clinical.
I never meant to overdose, just chasing
comfort in a heavy dose of someone new,
to help me cope.

I try to build a house from broken pieces—
too many to count. I am the empty echo
of a heart still full, but far too loud
to be heard.

Echo...
  Echoes
     fall between the silence of our words,
two awkward breaths apart—trying
to keep it innocent, just as friends,
while our primal skins just want to skip
to the part of just having ***.

It’s the risk of falling in love—
that makes us stumble near the edge.
It’s beautiful. It’s ******* stupid.
It hurts. It’s love.
Whether it finds you first, as the one
you need— or shows up last, as the one
you never really wanted.

i remember
a memory —
it isn't mine.
someone else's.

being the kid we used to be
(yes, i'm writing it in their pov)
we drank lemonade under the summer sun,
watched the bulb in the sky brighten,
heard the promises of forever
where no voice resonated.

echoes of my woes
learned to yearn within these walls.

it's a contrast: sweet, distant, aching.
have you ever heard of feeling nothing —
like the silence after chaos,
a void so deep,
there seems to be nothing it's composed of at all?
an absence that has screamed louder since its presence.

i listen to skyfall as i write,
and no, the sky hasn't fallen —
but it seems it would have felt better if it did.
a way to express what i feel deep inside,
since the breaking.

there are regrets.
like a flower blooms under the sun,
my regret bloomed under the skin of love,
whispered between lines,
composed of all the maybes it could have been —
the ideas, the fantasies,
versions of you that never came to just be.

perhaps i'd dreamt different —
not of someone,
but of how things seemed to me.

but it's nighttime, and i sit,
and like a building collapsing, i think —
stars falling, heavens opening, illusions crashing,
my heart strengthening.
it rubs painfully against the chest — or so.
i wish it hurt just a little bit more,
for i feel it tends to lack intensity.

how you simply waved a goodbye —
i felt it like waves in the sea.
yours was late, brief —
mine drowned, delivered me to the ending.

i have my window open.
i'll try to describe the night sky.
it still seems impossible,
like it did that night.

the stars — they watched me silently.
maybe they witnessed the fall as well.
and then i wondered —
did i even know it all that well?

maybe they were the lovers who never made it home.
maybe they were the parallels to what was meant to be alone.
i kinda hoped it'd be one way —
either you'd become a star, or me, or us together.
and whoever remained would have watched it
as we grew old together.

alas, what remains of it now?
the memories, the hauntings —
are they simply the nothings in between the heavier things?

wave after wave,
they take me with them,
bring me back
to where i began.

we were kids once,
with lemonade hearts —
not the sugary kind,
but the one filled with zest and a spark.

the sky remembers all that i've forgotten.
the same track on repeat —
i wish i'd heard it the night that brought me to hit rock bottom.

i want to write and write and write
and let it devour you and me
and all the eyes that ponder over these words whole.

for that nothing
felt like everything for a moment.

and i can't believe
you missed out
on becoming the lovers —
the ones i dreamt for us to be.



that was indeed just the end, then.

like the sounds of tires on gravel
when the track twists just right —
hold—wait—stop—
i need to catch up to my memories.
but what of all the ones you left with?
bled into them: the last gaze, the lasting wounds.
oh, look — it crumbled.

had you promised to stay
and followed it through,
i'd have torn the sky apart
with bare hands,
set ablaze all those who came in our path.
but alas, easy way out —
i saw nothing (that was enough then),
never saw beyond you
(but now i see all of you).

and i shall wash away,
off the shore, at the edge of the boat.
i shall let go and watch.
you've slipped from my hands
like dust in between fingers.
the sandglass broke,
so did the beats at which my heart spoke.
i wish you the best.
i shall hope you find rest
in places that aren't filled with me.

it's a closure,
it's my closure —
turns out,
that's all i've ever seeked.

There’s a parachute stitched into my eyes— soft silk holding
nothing, as I watch myself freefalling into an empty space
The ringing words of love still call, like fading prayers –
as the voices of lovers trying to reconnect.

But I never was good at playing my heart. But aren’t you
expecting me to stay in character? To wear the lines you
wrote for me, in the means of keeping up this fantasy of love.
My smiles are scripted; as everyone else is helping to create
such a picture frame. The world helps paint our picture from
all the wildest of conversations; but the more they run out of
your mouth, the more they seem to taste so tame.

These tired eyes have searched in your eyes for a reflection
I can truly bend– so is the baggage claim of my baggy eyes;
visioning our broken pieces coming together to hopefully
mend.

I was your background character, your silent NPC in a game
you never knew I played, the first time. But when I stopped
watching, when I stopped turning toward you with secret
obsession – you started to feel the crush of my own crush.
Now you chase the echo of something that once held you
true—that hidden crush, that tender view, searching. But love,
my dear, truly YOU, should see how love is so **** blind.