She is Poison

girl dark emo

She envies shades of black and purple
doesn’t fear skull and bones
and loves the translucent pain in her veins,
for the world to see.

She is surrounded by broken glass,
shattered nightmares and visions of
life as a normal.

It’s the liquid that consumes her, manipulates her mind
and turns her black inside.
She savors every last drop of poison as it
blurs her memory, creates alternate realities
and takes her mind to places it can never reach.

She is danger.
Her blood bleeds black.
She is poison.

Broken Guitar String


we can give voice to the voice-less,
sew a broken soul, and tell
stories in the matter of minutes.

We’re missing a heart, but we
have fingers and a voice.
Not artificially, no,
the words aren’t our own nor
will they ever be, but
strum us together
or apart
and let us

tell unwritten stories
through the melody of music

Artist’s Palette

It’s fun to imagine,
the taste and touch of a colors
and not just their appearance.

Red is said to be hot and burning with passion,
but mixed with black, the color of fear,
no one would give it a second glance.

But what if red is ice-cold and blue
is ice-hot then maybe colors need
more than just sight.

As judged on appearance alone
it would be a terrible, terrible life
for a world full of colors

colors down drain

One Reader, One Writer

between these lines,
within these margins
stories are told.
With a few letters
strung together,
into words and
with a hint of feeling, it
can spark an emotion and


two strangers
one reader,
one writer
on a journey both
can have;

When words run out
and the lines turn blank
the reader leaves
the writer writes,
and both go on
living parallel lives
miles apart, connected together
through simplest of words

Dirty Raindrops


Drip on me your purity,
your cleanliness and wash away
the sins, the ones I lock inside.

Take out my umbrella,
hide me under a rain coat
and make me shutter
drop no tear when I cry.

No one likes being wet
when others are dry and
no one likes dirty raindrops
when there’s nothing left to hide

Curves of a Silhouette

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We envy
the silhouette
and not
the mirror

knowing a silhouette is
and above all

In reality,
a silhouette is merely
a life-less shadow
here to tell us

perfection is bliss
beauty is skin deep
and a silhouette,
above nothing else,

is a temporary stencil

Don’t Leave Me


and leave me
nothing at all.
I’m fading
into the realm of non-existence
so before I go,
take my hand,
and remind me once more
that this life isn’t as cruel
as it’s set out to be.

As I’m
and further
into the realm of imaginary
just remember to leave me
as I was,

never here, never alive and
nothing at all