The Mirror lies, and so does the world, The blemishes on your face aren’t there. Look at your reflections in my eyes, Do you find a single trace of ugliness? You are as beautiful as the glacial cone, A sparkling delicate crystal for me to adore, Sure, sometimes there will be frost on you, And sure sometimes my light won’t reach you, But this dust on you is not your identity, And you never needed my shine to be world’s envy. ...
You and I have exactly the same set of words. But I know why you are able to paint them so much better than me. Because you crush your emotions inside the cavities of your letters. You have endured far too much than I could possibly imagine myself to do. I merely write. You vomit, you bleed, you sweat, you ejaculate, you lactate, You piss, you excrete. You don’t attempt to hide all the ugliness under the guile of saccharine words. Some people hate you for it. Not everyone likes to read about the nakedness of humanity. Some of us want the stories of puppies and fairy tales. You instead peel your skin and show your bones. For them to agnize that under all our inferiority and superiority complexes, we are all the same, after all. ...
If it were possible; long ago, She would have given you an affirmation of your dreams, Or handed over a negation of your desires. If it were possible; long ago, She would have committed to the tasks in hand, Or rolled back the efforts made till now. Unfortunately life is not lived in Binary. There’s a huge flux of reasoning in between. ~RavS
Every time I am in your vicinity, I catch a new condition. Here is what you have made me : Philophobic because of you. Cingulomanic for you. Somniphobic through you. Insomnia, paranoia, hyperventilation… you have taught me. Your cold might be common but the shiver that you have given me; it’s not common. It’s rare. You are the cause and you are the cure of my problem.. Alas they couldn’t find the cause and cure of your condition. ...
You and I. You and I. We. Are meant to be so much more. Look around. We are in middle of the cross section of an infinite roads. Forget about where you came from. Forget about where I met you. Hold my hands. And point your fingers at any road you like. Let’s walk. And find ourselves on that path. ~RavS
The beautiful thing about poetry is that you and i and he and she will read exactly the same words but they would never mean the same to any of us. ~RavS
I fear one day I won’t be left with anything to say or write or express. No jokes, no wits, no stories, no compliments, no confessions, NOTHING. There will be just silence left. A blank expression. I fear if you would get bored of me that day. And leave me to find someone who could still entertain you or be useful. I won’t be angry with you. How could I? It’s just that I would be infuriated with self, I couldn’t keep you longer than this. I thought you would stay forever. But forever is always too long to be true… ...
If CANNIBALISM were ALLOWED, I would have EATEN you ALIVE. Can’t think of another SOLUTION to the problem that’s YOU. ~RavS
Next time you tell me I can’t do something, I am going to shove a rag through your mouth and choke your neck to the point of suffocation. When you are deprived of oxygen, and are jostling for life, eyes coming out of your ducts, face getting pale; you would do anything and everything to survive. You would scratch, claw, kick, scuffle till your last moment. Please don’t make me asphyxiate you, for you to realize the kind of struggle I want you to devote to succeed. ...
I always thought being a poet meant having an extraordinary vocabulary, an incredible imagination and a knack of finding the right words for the right situation. But now I know, it’s all bollocks. To be a poet, at least in my eyes, you just need two things - a madly vulnerable heart and a courage to rip it apart. ~RavS