A Word for a World

Words are never just about words

Words are a world of their own

A world you and I know a lot about, we think

And yet know absolutely nothing about it

The Holocaust was born out of words as much as every Nobel Peace Prize speech

From the formula of building a bomb to scripting poetic justice, it's all words and words alone

It takes words to love, it takes words to hate, it takes words to grief, it takes words to rejoice

And yet, we think words exist for us, but do they really

Or the matter of fact is that, we merely exist to put words to purpose

You'd tell me, what a thought

And I'd say, WORD!

Chameleon Habits

When you've grown a habit of wearing masks for faces

And the masks have grown the skin of faces

Can you tell masks from faces anymore?

When a chameleon has been a chameleon long enough, does it still remember it's true colour?

The Life of a Dream

If everyone got to live their dreams

Who'd write about them

Why'd you write about it unless it was broken so many times over and over again, that writing about them was the only way you could live it

Would you write about love if you weren't heartbroken

Broken dreams of some make a good recipe for dreams of many others and many more

The Last of Your Scars

 The last of your scars has healed today

The scars you had inscribed on my skin

Like Bukowski used to, on his typewriter

The last one of them grew skin today

The last of your scars has been washed away

Could I bleed some more for you?

Love Et Cetera

 It's not about finding someone who doesn't hurt

For when you love is when you entitle yourself to hurt

It's not about finding someone who wouldn't leave bruises and scars

For when yours bruises fade away and your scars grow skin is when you grow up

It's about finding someone who hurts and yet heals

It's about finding someone who gives your scars and yet caresses them like they were their own

Love does hurt, almost always

Does it heal, is the million-dollar question

The D-Day

 The day you stop looking for a place to call your home

You start building your own

The day you stop seeking a fairytale to call your story

You begin writing your own

The Moment of Truth

 Just when you'd thought you and you alone could dictate your terms of happiness

Just when you'd thought you and you alone were enough to live life as you'd known it

There'll come a moment

A singular moment that defies every last inch of conviction you'd wrapped yourself in

A singular moment that makes you want to believe there could be a different climax

And it'll never be the same 

Ever again

You'll traverse the distance from assigned happinesses to actually finding them

You'll burn the bridges that stood between solitude and tranquility