How did you do that thing that you did to my heart ?
The tradegy is that i found myself into you, sleeping peacefully and in no case would i want to wake myself up from that sleep.
How i took a deep look into you and saw weird butterflies flying towards me.
Oh how i wish the next time Cupid strikes an arrow, it hits the both of us .
My arms are empty, yet my fist is filled with small neatly wrapped empty boxes of laughter , smiles and ridicules that i planned to gift you every month.
I now walk a parade of shame, that embarrasses me every night , haunted by my own doings, but was it really my fault to fall in love with you.
My kind of love is different, it humps on my chest and shoots a wrenching pain through my brain because her name is a wooden ship and i try to fit her in my glass heart and all it does is shatter it into pieces,and that pains alot!
Sometimes i paint too, a miscellany of all the times i wish you would hold my hand and take me to places, to all the places i imagine , basically wherever i haven’t seen you smile.
What is the place that burns so hot, it melts the iron clad walls yet no one could ever see or feel the smoke or the heat except the place itself, and that place is actually a person and the person is the I in this poem but why am i not able to see the explosion even though i am the one holding the bomb.
My heart is a closed box of cigarettes, now in contact with a lit matchstick and all i am doing now is waiting for the cigarettes so burn off quietly without generating a lot of smoke.
So now i decided to paint again, this time my unrequited dream