If I hurt myself more, a little bit more, perhaps the feelings will die,

If not be dead, maybe-perhaps-I crave to feel a little bit less.

The feelings that drown me, the feelings that trap, that torment,

The feelings creating that void every moment, however I try.

I need my hands gone, my limbs and my brain-let’s get rid of them all,

But still when I lose them the feelings grow a hand, a pair of limbs and a mind.

I make a promise to myself, next time will be more merciless, will strike so I bleed more,

So that I remember the pain and the throbbing, hoping that will draw the feelings to an end.

Why do I still feel, why do I still cry, why laugh and why still save the hope in that room?

I wish to be a stone, a cold ruthless stone, just perform but never again feel the pain. 

An ode to my friend

I watch you from the side walk, you talking and laughing,

As I sit and speculate how do you do that? So effortlessly!

You and I share the same skin, the same language, values.

You and I share dreams, fights, even our attractions for same men,

I watch and observe, as you flirt, I see yet another person being yours.

And that’s where I become I and you the other, the exotic, valued.

And I become just a skin, cheek bones, and voice, too shrill.

I want to envy you, hate you, as my skin burns in rage.

I watch you from the sidewalk, side tracked, sideways. 

Has anyone ever been triggered by a love story?

A benign yet extraordinary one that we hear again and again.

Trigger, such a weird word in a weird language where emotions get abbreviated,

Pain, despair, anger, desperation all wrapped up in one simple word, trigger!

As I sit and listen to the story, emotions come crawl up from deep dark depth.

As his face brightens, my shoulder droop, my heart stops, and the guilt overwhelms.

In last few months I have been told, unasked I need to cleanse my life by friends,

My intentions are well known for being as dark as my features and unapologetic as myself.

Is this world and all its happiness is stored for the cleansed, bright and apologetic ones?

Then why did I come? When did I get here? When did I lose my right to be loved and to love?

Trigger, a simplistic word to abbreviate so many emotions desperately, despair, anger, desperation. 

Cutie to a long QT, the journey took just a week,

A week that seemed like months-years and an eternity.

Our meeting so sudden, equally random the attraction,

The separation of two cultures, of birthdays ten years apart.

In one week, stretched in seven days for validation of number,

We made plans, broke plans, and remade to break them again.

It took us seven days to start a story and seven seconds to end,

Now when I see you down the hall way cutie, the long QT comes again. 

Dipabali

As the moon fades through its cycle, leaving the night with darkness,

Reminding, perhaps the only unfading truth of life is to fade away.

When the darkness comes, the night cold without light stands lonely,

And I, a mere human, put a light outside, in my effort to give it some warmth.

I tell her in assurance, I will be there for you, as you have, being my light.

I burn myself, to fuel the lamp that I put outside, taking some melancholy away.

And I plunge in my sorrow as I burn, and burn whole night, dragging the darkness in.

Oh my lonely dark night! Let me take the light back, for once as I need some light.

When pain becomes meditative,

Your mind wanders for a while,

And then comes back to same numbness.

When pain becomes absorbing,

You still feel anger, hungry,

Yet, everything is absorbed in darkness.

I remember a childhood song,

Only pain can heal pain and I wonder,

How many more healing would I need.     

A pain so profound and deep, I have felt you forever now.

You have looked at me silently from a corner, when I laughed,

thinking you are gone. You have sat with me when I mourned.

So real and still so illusive, you are part of my flesh and my eyes.

I felt you in my spine, and choked with a knot in my heart,

So much wished and prayed for you to flood down my cheeks,

And tenderly caressed you in a corner that no one else has been to.

A pain so deep, and profound, that I wonder if you are a pain anymore or not.