Yellow Facade

Ain't made for anyone;

enclosed with sturdy walls.

There's no door.

There's no key.

There's no dragon

nor a prince-

just a woman

who can set

herself free                  

but chose to lock

Hey,

Is it just me?

Am I the only one crazy right here?

Without a doubt, it says.

But I doubt the lies it says.

I once denied the unstable beats.

I once repressed the song it makes.

I was once aloof

but you mess me up

What's with all the this-and-that?

You're making me live in a fiction tale.

Quite hoping it was real,

but I'd rather walk away

and keep my mind at peace.

Does it matter where I am?

Stuck in a jam

lost like a lamb

in the middle of nowhere.

Does it matter what I do?

Run here and there,

cry anywhere,

sayin' "This too shall pass."

Does it matter what I make?

This much pain,

that much gain,

I nor you can't take.

Do I matter to you?

Like those dazzling stars,

your precious scars,

Just like a cliche tv show,

it flashes every day.

Time flies indeed,

so do happiness and sadness.

This emptiness is boundless-

a hopeful yet hopeless soul

wanders in an empty hall

filled with nothingness

and nothing more;

pouring air in a wine glass.

I'm the friend you wished you had;

the silence that shouts your thoughts;

the darkness that lights your worth;

the pillow that keeps you awake;

chaos that brings peace of mind.

Said you lost it but you last

fighting a nightmare

that  no one else does.

You're alone and yes y’all own

a piece that nobody else has.

You’re right, you’re right.

Yours the rarest plight.

When it gets blurry,

a ray of light strikes,

brings a little mist.

Doubts go astray,

spurred by the wind-

from seconds to minutes.

Then the fog returns-

not blocking ahead,

not putting a show,

but making its world

I’m not an art

you paint with blue-

strokes swayed with hue;

nor skies, oceans, and seas

swirling through the iris

as the light bends apart.



I’m not an art

you soak in glue-

teared, mashed with dew;

nor masks, brackets, and props

flashing gold as it drops-

I want you-

not a bot

doing orders,

not a star

looking perfect,

not a merchant

selling love,

not a diver

drowning

in the norms.

I want you-

to be you.

I love you-

One twinkle

Two twinkle

Counting stars

To twelve

Three down

Four up

Chances left

Unsaid

Sixth loss

Two times

Regrets feel

Cliche

One twinkle

Two twinkle

Dusts shrouding

It’s a series of hook and eye

every night. You and I

In this dark, cold, spot-

hunting, reaching, grabbing ties

in each other’s grip,

back to the walls of the room.

You, singing with a spotlight

flashing through your face

in that sweet, precious purr.

Yes, I chose this tug of war

that day I stopped-

allured in your littleness; when I

let you pass the doorway,

walking slowly toward me; and I

fed you with love- the warmth,

the caress you ever needed.

Those days are over.

The littleness is gone.

The door is closing as you walk

further and further away from the

doorsteps. My skin is wrinkled and it’s

getting colder here. Now

the string is getting near my room-

five, four, three meters away…

I thought I’ll get you this way,

But I only see the end of the tie

getting closer and closer to me

and there’s no you.

Since when did you stop gripping

the other end?

Since when did I play this game alone?

Since when did you realize

I wasn’t your home?

I thought it was a series

of hook and eye- you and I

reaching each other back

yet I’m just a button

Chasing…

Shadows in the dusk

Grasping…

Unknowns in the dark

Sleeping…

Frozen mind’s awake

Laughing…

Broken heart at stake.

Why you…

Clinging like a glue?

How I…

Wish to have a clue!

Can’t I…

Find myself again?

Should I…

You once made me smile-

embraced my flaws

for a great loss

but I wasn’t enough

so I burned myself out,

while hearing squeaks

of spite and distrust.

You deprived me of a boon,

awoken the sleeping snail,

‘til the flame turned blue.

I kept walking and running

until I conquer the river.

Your lips bade a sweet melody

but my heart’s out of blood

enslaved in dues and doubts

losing its urge to beat.

You swore without a pen

but I was left indebted.

Unwary and obscure,

I scribbled over the sheet

but it won’t happen twice.

I shall find a lush blue sea.

It’s okay

If it’s the only response you know

It’s okay

If they assume you’re lonely when alone

It’s okay

If they say, you never grow

It’s okay

If you’re a mediocre

It’s okay

If they see it as cliché TV show

It’s okay

If no one’s wary that you’re drowning

It’s okay

If you’re a yesterday melted like snow

It’s okay

If nobody listens to your songs

It’s okay

If your words faded and stamped as shallow

It’s okay

If you’re not a poem that one can comprehend

It’s over.

I used to push and pull

trying to make a piece

from a ripped cloth but

the needle treaded my skin.

I was running out of thread

but I kept stitching.

It hurts.

It’s throbbing.

It’s unending.

At the end of the knot

I saw droplets of blood.

It’s painful,

but I like it.

It’s better this way

than to see spurting blood

coming out from my heart.