My skin contains your every utterance.
Your malcontent,
Your affronts.
My failures.

It's a love so bitter.
I'm weak to it.
The scent,
It lingers.

I bleed through the bandages.
My hands,
Impossible to grasp.
You let me fall.

We hurt together.
Harmonious are the cries and whimpers.
While you tear yourself apart,
I pour myself into you.

You’r exploiting the weaker
The same way
As you are being exploited
By the mightier in anyway.

And this vicious circle goes on
Where the mightiest reigns on.

If you want to break
This vicious circle
Then start at least
At your own level.

Bring a smile on
The face of a sad one
Bring hues to the
Life of a deserted one.

Agree what can one flower
Do in this vast jungle,
But remember
Your blossoming will
Be a great revolution

Seeing you flowering
Other buds will be motivated,
By your blossoming
At least a corner will be scented.

What’s the use of
Sitting hands-crossed
Better to do little
Than sitting legs-crossed,

So try giving a mild ****
To this vicious circle.
If you are sincere onr
Then see the miracle.

Then realise what is
Your actual existence,
A single tiny lamp
Disperses darkness
With in its range,

i don't have it in me to go through things
i still have feelings for you
and you have no plans to stick around
or even try
just leave me alone
i am sorry
i don’t hate you
i never can
it’s just me who is weak and done for good
with everyone and everything