#pbps

a.k.a. yes, it’s from me. but don’t worry, i don’t

this is how i think it is: the sound between your sketch pads and your pencils are silent from where i am / but your heartbeat is steady like my room's wall clock / it's probably a roller coaster of a ride, but your emotions are too wild to acknowledge / so you hide them in a whip of one color then another, or you drip them in monochrome / and maybe sometimes you find yourself dancing to the wind's songs / but when it whispers a name, you cover your ears and sail yourself back to drawing

i kiss your name to the stars / and i write your eyes on my skin / i wish i couldn’t smell your lips every time they curl into a smile / because even if i can’t taste your love, these feelings just wouldn’t sink / i end up with a pair of dead lungs from breathing too much of you / but too much is never enough, and so i desire more / if i need to be brutally honest, i hereby confess / there isn’t anything in this world i’d rather take in but the endless melody of the pain of you / you’re way too out of reach, these hands of mine are knocked out / and there’s no need to call out your name, you wouldn’t hear me anyway / but still, when i close my eyes, it feels like you’re close / echoing how you love me even if you don’t / your shadow is my moon on a dusky night / along with the dancing smoke coming from your cigarette kissed lips / but your walls are tremendously and sensibly high / will i ever see the sunrise from your eyes?

Religion, Faith and Philosophy

Radhika Rastogi