Life · Love · Poems


Don’t you question the tireless passion with which
I attempt to create this strange new world
In mirror images which reflect internally
Until reality and illusion merges into one
Do not strive to tell me
No this is not worth it
Living and dying
This way
It’s me

Don’t try to convince me how useless it all is
I attempt to collect emotions and thoughts
In a large web where they lie tangled
Forming untouched relationships
Do not make me give up
On the plea of mercy
For my soul
I need this
It’s me

Don’t try to beat this irredeemable hope out of me
I do not want this crazy world to crush me so
By putting up large, unmarked stone walls
Forming a colossal cage that feels like home
Do not try to tie me up
I will turn liquid
And gently flow
Breathing fire
It’s just me

Favorite Mistake

How poetic it is- to have a favorite mistake! I can think of many- perhaps the fact that my poems flow out of a deep, dark place. The fact that I am this way is in part in my genetic makeup and for the rest, cultivated through a set of agonizing experiences. Either way, the world’s cruelty feels like a life-long companion which gives rise to all these helpless emotions at pain, suffering, longing and just pure transience. I think that explains the above poem.

Music of the moment:

How wonderfully soothing it is to be serenaded by this song. 🙂



One thought on “Flow

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