It's the thing about highways

You came like a Ferari

On the highway.

Zip-zap-zoom.

My heart felt

Like an ambulance

Stuck in traffic.

Between us,

There will always be

Loud silences

           And

                     fleeting

          distances.

Beginning of forever

You’ve been

the flavor of the month.

Even my chums smell like you.

Okay I don’t mind sitting

Next to you

With butterflies in my stomach,
A zoo in my chest

And my heart in my mouth

Wearing a rock on my finger

and plastic smile.

Simply because

I want you

To be the flavor

Of my life.  

September

It punched August

In the stomach and

Came right in front of you.

The sun is also confused

Whether to burn brighter

And cuddle you in its arms

Or to kiss you all over your face

And leave your skin wet.

Finally, here it comes to you

Like a baby comes to the mother,

After 9 long months only to tell you

it loves you.

But you don’t know what that means.  

Maybe because you've decided 

to wake up when September ends.

Adult

Call me an adult. But not an adult as enough adult.

I. For I say a prayer and let the evil times roll in. Because God never advertised his 30 minute show up policy.

II. For living like a tide. And there are days when the moon is full and has an uncontrollable pull.

III. For I wait and then wait more for the right time. And then watch it passes by, elegantly, without my consent.

IV. For breathing life into monsters. And then complaining why he destroyed everything once again.

V.  For changing the world. But not as much as the world changing me as an adult.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

No

Keep your daughter’s name.

When she is growing up

Call her name, shout it or screech it

Till iron starts to run in her veins.

No

Keep your daughter’s name.

When she’ll be a grown up

She’ll be like a wolf so strong

That no lion can tame.

Kill honour

How easy it was

for them to force

the honour

like stainless steel knife

into her mouth.

And how her throat 

was full of just love

when the first time

she called them

‘mamma’

and 'baba’.

Brunt

And the day after all the

Breaking,

Mother takes God

Off the shelf,

Shakes the dirt from

His shoulders.

After all  the damage

Her heart is still big.

But He’s smaller than

He once was.

Stuck

Life is moving fast and all.

The difference is in the waiting

for you.

My heart feels like an ambulance.

And there is traffic

Everywhere.

Station

Even when we stand still

the earth is moving.

As if travelling perpetually in a train.

Excuse me, could you please

stop it for a second.

I wanna get off. 

Stillness

All you know is how to spill

and make a mess of yourself

in this beautiful world.

Usually, people give a stare

after another,

call it art

and keep moving.

You can leave the house.

Anyway, it’s not where the heart is.

But where the hard edges are.

It is where there are the bills

The damped walls, the mice

And that comfort feeling

you grow up wanting to leave.

You can leave the city.

Most days, it makes you feel

like a sponge.

And gives you only dust

to soak in your mouth

in your lungs

in your life.

You can leave the face of the earth any time.

But this small voice that muffles

‘This is not a test, but you are

doing splendidly’.

You listen to it,

feel like you might be.

You’re so good at being bad.