every breath, just a shadow

sometimes i miss you so much that
i search for all the music that you played around
of all sorts, it depended on your mood and chores.
and then one by one i listen to every song i can remember,
all your favourites.
this makes me cry so much.

6am

i am breathless.
i keep thinking if
i can stop thinking
but like an echo
it keeps getting louder

his small and precious
expressions
signs of laughter, hurt
anger, love, sadness
crystal visible virtual memory
is the only surviving reality now

i don't wish to let it go
and i never wish to forget
the reality and memories
are one now, lost and deranged
in it's union
he will stay till eternity
and me, breathless.

drowning

i am drowning in all
the love you won't
accept from me anymore.

broken

what are new dreams?
are they really dreams if it means letting go of
your older ones?
why can't a new dream be an extension of
old one?
or why does one has to run away from old dreams
in exchange of new ones?
when the new ones are nothing but an alien to you,
and appears to be meaningless. almost.
can the new dreams really be called as dreams?
like in a beautiful way?
or is it just an assumed alibi for
making the older ones redundant that
made you unhappy once?

is emotional recession really
great for investing hopes and buying new dreams?
is it fair to dream those dreams and continue to hope...
or must we just stick to our reality
where the past dreams are mostly ridiculed
and present ones merely an alibi?

now when the time stands still,
is new all new?
are the past dreams just done with its due
or are they really broken too?

pondering

habits are just another form of addiction.
isn't it?

stupid love

of loving somebody to eternity and being misunderstood

can be one of the greatest regrets and a flawed aspect of human life

like a vicious cycle, like karmas

like echoes, like gravity

like a weather of feelings

it consumes our lives and yet it is only a little parenthesis in eternity

eternity is fictitious

just like everything else in it is.

that could be the only rationale

and an understanding

a visible cover for a defeated soul
perhaps a misunderstood one

miss wallflower

it's the loneliest feeling in the world- to find yourself standing up when everyone else is sitting down. To have everybody look at you and say "whats the matter with her?". I know what it feels like. Walking down an empty street,listening to the sound of your own footsteps. Shutters closed,blinds drawn,doors locked against you.And you aren't sure whether you're walking towards something,or if you are just walking away.