Raindrops

Raindrops,
Pitter patter.
Heavy rain,
Falls down,
To touch the ground,
But they do not dare,
To fall on me,
At least not this time,
'Cause now they know,
Who I am.

The kid

I stand outside the cafe,
To light my second stick of cigarette,
As all the smoking tables are booked,
And as I take my first puff,
And let it out,
A kid and her mother,
And her aunt,
Walk past me,
And the mother says,
"Don't smoke in front of her at least!"
To which I politely replied,
As if you don't,
When she's around.


And she walked away.
With her sister.
And her child.
Who will grow up to smoke
On one of the smoking tables.
Just like her mother.

Cigarettes and Coffee

What a combination

Cigarettes and coffee

Now they say two different things cannot last forever

But these two show us how

Cigarettes and coffee

What divinity 

Isteni

Smoked a packet or two

Back in the days

Back in the

Days

The good days

A cold winter morning

With fog and smoke

Of course

And coffee

Burnt ash on the ground

Ground with cracks

Trying to hide

But little do they know

That

They look so pretty

Like the scars on a woman's face

Like the scars on 

A woman's

Breasts. 

Cigarettes and Coffee

So divine

Water droplets fall on my feet

Due to the wind

And the smoke stays within her lungs

And when it comes out of her mouth

People

Stare

Like they always do

The gray matches the winter mood so much

It's a moan

The kind of moan you hear 

While you make love

The kind of moan

Which makes moan

Moan

Coffee and Cigarettes

Are 

Isteni

And her lungs will explode one day

And that day will be when
She lets herself speak

Like she never did before

Cry tears of joy

Oh so divine

Oh so

Perfect

Cigarettes and Coffee

Another scar 

But not on her face

In her heart

Another scar

Another,

Cut.

Oh Isteni

Isteni is me.

I don't think so.

Because for me, 

Isteni is,

Cigarettes and Coffee.

Number 3

But you'll be gone away.

Somewhere far. 

Making something great of your life.

And I will just lay down on the ground.

Begging for somebody's company.

Without saying anything.

Hoping someone would listen.

Like you did. 

Like nobody ever did, 

Ever.

As cliche as alone

As cliche as alone sounds now.
I am alone.
As cliche as I look now,
I am something I'd never known.

As cliche as being in love sounds now,
I am not in love, anymore.
As cliche as love sounds now,
I cannot let myself feel they way I used to, before.

A man called Nicola

I met a guy,

Called Nicola.

He is Italian. 

He made me happy,

By being Italian. 

And kissing my hand.

He does not know this,

Though. 

I met a guy,

I felt something between us so strong.

I just,

Felt that he would be mine.

But he is not,

And he knows this,

Though.

I met a guy,

Called Nicola,

He pulled me through one of my toughest times.

I had ever had in life.

He made me oh so happy again,

He made me smile.

He is special.

To me.

But he does not know this,

Though. 

I met a guy 

Called Nicola

For the first time.

And maybe it was the last time I ever met him.

He got me so happy,

I almost let a tear of joy.

I almost thought he would be mine.

I almost thought he would get back to me.

I almost thought,

He would love me too.

I almost thought,

I found a new life.

I almost,

Fell in love

Almost.

And he knows this, 

Though.

Lady.

There is me

And this late night.

And this lady's face which is staring at me for some reason.

There is good music

And memories of good times

And bad ones

Too.

My eyes are sore,

I let a tear or two flow more than

The usual.

I am usually alone,

But today, this lady decided to give me company.

She says she is always there,

Watching me,

Whenever we are at the same place,

Trying to guide me,

More like scare me.

I keep alone usually.

But I did not mind company this time.

She is a lot like me though. 

Her thoughts are like mine.

Her stories as well. 

And her lies.

She says she really has never met someone like me.

She says I am like a day,

With 24 hours.

Constantly changing every minute,

Every hour,

Every day.

To make a year.  

A year is something longer. 

A year is  something longer for someone like,

Me.

That is what she says. 

She says it hurts her.

To see me whine and not being able to find words which will

Make me feel. 

Better?

To which I said,

There is no good?

How can there be,

Better. 

She keeps quiet for a minute. 

Stops.

And says,

She does not believe in me sometimes.

She says it is hard to believe.

She says, I cannot make it through. 

And when I told her I did, 

She vanished.

There was no woman.

After all. 

There is no one in this room.

Just a dim light.

Some memories.

And good music.

Who the hell have I been talking to?

Again?

The swing

Suddenly but yet again, it all just went,
In a flash,
And was changed with the feeling of resentment.
I was left alone again.
I tried to keep it off my face but this time I felt too,
weak.
I just was not interested anymore.
In myself.
In her.
In him.
And then I saw him.
One of the two.
But I did not realize it.
So now,
I was alone again.
I was so strong once.
Shattered again, towards a new end.
It is killing me.
I mean it really.
It's taken enough.
Enough.
I do not know myself anymore.
I cannot help myself, anymore.
I need someone.
But I cannot have them.
Cause in the end,
It always ends.
Me and Her.
Me and Them.
Me and
Him.
Him.
The problems in life just keep on adding.
I cannot trust anyone.
I should not be them around too.
But for me, that is just too rude.
I actually am feeling so blank right now.
But yet so hurt.
I do not know how that works.
But it just does.
Just like this world.
Just like this one
Mood Swing.
And it does not end here.
As usual.

Out of love

It starts here a new beginning, It called me here.
I take a stick out in your name and begin smoking it.
I don't know where to start, but I know how to end.
I end, I lose in the end, I am well aware of it.

I cannot look in your eye anymore, or your baby photos.
I cannot be the judge anymore, I cannot be biased to myself.
I do not however understand, why you want me to be there.
It just cannot take it anymore, my heart is hollow, but I can hear it scream.

It just will not let me go, it's grip is too strong.
I smoke another cigarette thinking of how I went wrong.
I lie down on the ground, lying to myself.
I try to take all your pain, I cannot see you looking for help.

I wish I could make things right, the way you want to.
I wish I could go against my own, but I'm not my own.
I would want to kiss you goodbye, and sail far away from you.
It kills me to say goodbye, but I have to leave you alone.

It starts here a new beginning, It called me here.
I take a stick out in your name and begin smoking it.
I am sorry to leave you out love, I am sorry to play this game.
Today I have to go, before I turn you insane.

It is saying something, listen.

It speaks
The night.
It speaks to me, late at night.
When the sky misses its sun.
It tells me about how much it wants the light,
Back.
It speaks to me.
Sometimes, it cries,
In the form of drizzle.
Sometimes, it weeps,
In the form of rain.
And I touch its tears with mine,
It feels so connected.
No wonder why it speaks to me.
I feel, it does not speak to anybody else,
The night.
There is a heavy pain in our hearts,
We share with each other,
His is related to love,
Mine,
Just about everything.
I never liked the night before.
I thought it only had monsters and,
Scary things.
But it is the night which makes us,
Think about the day.
Always.
It is the night,
Which keeps me alone,
Gives me my,
Peace of mind,
When it is in pieces.
It is in the night when,
My shadow leaves me alone,
To give me,
Me.
The night is often,
Scary.
Which hurts it even more.
It weeps to me,
About the Day.
It wants the light too,
Like everybody else.

After time

So, it has been a while I see...
I do not even look like what you think I look like.
And I am definitely not the same person you thought I was months ago..
I have had been pretty.. Well.. I've just got more deep
And more complicated.
It's as if I am the wires in a bomb, if you can understand what I am trying to say.. Like.. Out of the red and green and the yellow and the blue, I have no idea which one I should cut. I am too scared to cut any wire cause I am not sure whether I will diffuse or explode. And I do not want to to explode definitely. And the wires keep changing roles.
It's good being so complicated, really.
Well most of the times really.
Being complicated means you are gonna be alone, which I love but sometimes you need someone. You always have something, but sometimes you cannot just be that materialistic. Sometimes, you have to like.. go against yourself.
It's been a while.
It has.
Today, I was seeing some blogs of people who claim to like be.. 'hurt' and 'writers and poets'..
So I got inspired.
Inspiration comes at the random-est of times, really.
Cause of the random-est of things as well.
It has been a while.
I have not been able to write these past few months.
I felt that I lost something. It is kind of funny how I am actually typing so fast, how my mind is actually working with me today.
Probably it is the end of one of my writers' block. Finally.
Finally it broke. It had been a while.
I was so frustrated all this while.
I saw what I wrote and I felt so shitty.
Even though my life is worse here, I should have more to write about, more to speak about..
But no.. I've become more quiet, shy, alone,
Deranged,
and
Distant.
I do not know why I have not been able to write these days. Really.
So all this while, I started with college..
It is stressful, yes it is.
But it is worth it, they tell me it is.
I do not know what for..
Probably to maybe.. Break away..
And I would do anything to break away.
I know I would.
That is why I am doing what I am doing.
I have dreams... Lots of them.
And lots of scenes in my head which I have to make me happen.
Cause if I do not.. I see myself in a psychiatric hospital.
Alone..
My hair would be long though.
So.
I have been playing with fire a bit.
And it played with me too.. A game of catch.
Interesting.. ain't it not?
I have done things which I am not really happy about this time.
I have.
And as usual, I have been hurt.
But I really think I needed that.
I am so ambitious now.
I have no time for myself or anyone.
I just have time for.. a bit of company, at times.
And time for being alone in a restaurant having dinner by myself
With yellow lights above me
In a black dress, formal of course.
Lips, Red of course.
Pumps, black of course.
And the sound of forks and knives and spoons..
And the sound of chatter.
And nothing else.
I want to have a steak, chicken perhaps.
With some nice vegetables and nice sauce.
And for desert,
I would want,
Champagne.
And for the time after dinner,
The time with myself,
Looking deeper within myself,
That time,
For that time, I want,
Red Wine, Italian, Aged.
But in a glass this time, not a bottle.
I want to keep pouring it from time to time..
Just the way my emotions and thoughts will pour.
So..
It has been a while.
I am describing a feeling within me by the way..
I have matured, grown
Become even more mysterious.
And different.
These rains and this.. darkness.
It makes me, deeper.
I feel like paint..
I feel that my insides keep swirling inside me..
And my brain too.
It is a good feeling trust me.
It is worth it.
It is rare, I can bet.
I thought I met a poet.
But I had not.
I thought I had met someone, deep.
But I had not.
And I guess I have been inspired ever since.
I have lost my old self.
Become more to what I was.
Become older, wiser, older.
I think my mind is 60 years old.
Now that is pretty old.
For a person who is 18.
It has been a while since I discovered something new about myself.
I like discovering.
I like it.
And I like shattered hopes and dreams.
Cause then when they form a mosaic, it looks better.
As if it was a painting done by,
Vincent Van Gogh.
Aah, art.
I have become, paranoid enough.
I cannot look in the eye.
But I did. I did look in one person's eye.
But,
I should not have.
And I brought my walls down,
And sunk my heart too
And myself for a while too
But it happens with me, all the time..
My weirdness and muchness is not apt for these people.
I also, lost, love.
And fell into, illusion.
And I lost love.
With a goodbye.
And I got a new stain.
On my soul, it will not fade away, soon,
Or ever.
And I lost, everything.
I lost life too.
But I did not lose myself.
Just became, different, deeper
Swirling within like,
Paint.
I have been wrong.
So many times that it feels like the right thing to do now.
So many times that right does not feel right anymore.
But I do not feel bad about it.
I feel, guilty.
And alone, like I have always been.
I started with the things I thought I had stopped doing.
I started again.
I lost myself.
I created a newer me.
It is sad.
For you, not me.
I can adjust.
I always have been, adjusting.
I have always been, an..
Option.
I always have been, hurt..
Hurt does not even hurt anymore.
The far away from reality part does.
I've become, deeper.
Different.
Mysterious.
Alone.
Away.
Shy.
I have been, ignored.
I have been, mean.
Rude.
Wrong.
Artistic.
I have been.
It has been pretty long after all.