i write…..
they say with passion
with words that comes alive within each line with words that roar out truth
with twisted feelings, retwisted but still understood within those unseen lines.
I write….
they say with raw words
unfiltered and so much relatable
with words surprisingly consoling your bottled feelings
I write…….
words I wish would console my own bottled feelings
I write, I wish I act
touching terms torturing souls triggering pain
I wish I could be at the receiving end absorb and be consoled
I write to mend your soul not necessarily mine
I mend, I wish, I self console
I write, I wish I act



I feel the deepest of regrets in the most memorable way
I feel the deepest of sadness in the most pleasurable way…
foresight becoming memorable insights.
never forgotten, never erased.
aftermaths of a bleeding love, painful pleasure…..
perfect play played perfectly…
when reality comes knocking,
fantasies become impossible occurrences blown into the wind.
I feel grief in love from a bleeding heart.
sanity threatening reality from a bleeding soul.
regrets worth experiencing one more time and maybe again……
I feel tortured love
this is reality worth escaping from……


if only I could put everything This Heart of mine feels into words,
but the little unsaid details are never determined by inabilities or reluctancy
but by the overdose of certainty and the power of few, unfiltered words that produces unseen lines between visible paragraphs
the unseen words that gets sensed so strong and obviously
the unsaid but familiar lines that forms a formidable and undiluted consent for pondering
things unsaid yet more vividly real.