We bomb down civilian planes, shoot in theaters, schools, concert halls, hotels and hospitals.
We kill, maim, thinking that’s the way a point has to be put across. We kill people to protest against killing other people.
We silence, wound, orphan and widow.
We find guns more useful than words.
Bullets more useful than thoughts.
Blood more useful than ink.
We shun peace.
We encourage hatred.
We witness 9/11, 26/11 and the likes.
We witness kids less that 10 being killed in places they called their second home.
We still ignore.
We are Paris, Peshawar, Beirut, Mumbai, new York, Boston, Lebanon, Palestine, Syria and anywhere else that someone has to worry whether he’ll come home safe.
We’re the world.

LOVE

What’s with this four-lettered word

That makes the world go round

People weak in their needs

Bank balances fed to rose leaves

High expectations and low esteem

Happy people and sad hearts

Hearts drawn by pen on paper

Cream on lattes

Fingers on dust-covered glass

What’s ironic is, that isn’t a human heart at all

Is happily ever after measured by Ferraris, song references and PDA

By Facebook status’ and social standards

By what the law states

Or religion preaches

Or By what is the general norm

On Tumblr web pages

Are we romanticizing romance

Affecting affection

Terrorizing tenderness

Culling comfort

Screwing everything that’s good.

To make it work?

A pessimistic view on love.

Since the closest we’re getting to love is

Romantic novels and movies.

Set in an utopian world of hairspray and botox.

Characters pledged to fall in love,

No matter how far they are.

Endings sealed with a happily ever after,

And kisses perfected from multiple camera angles.

Oh where is the presence of broken hearts and crushed crushes.

Broken homes and divorced marriages.

Lets hope the reels keep on turning,

The pages keep flipping.

For let the romance never end,

Since that’s all we’re getting.

Broke.

A question I’ve been having since the inception of love.

how can relationships end.

to never begin again.

even in the most tiniest of ways.

from a friendship to a gaze.

how can love stop.

to turn into nothing at all.

finite. by a few.

actions, deeds, or words.

are relationships merely contracts.

clauses of undescribed pda.

love and tender affection.

to end with the demise of commitment.

what happened to the emotions.

to the hand holding.

do you mean to say that it was nothing at all.

just a ruse?

how can two people.

who have been together.

under the bond of what they call love.

cease the existence of the other.

for the bond the brokered.

broke.

Fangirl.

Something I wrote, while in the quest to find words to describe my feelings. While, although not every word is truly auto biographical, I resonate with certain feelings and emotions typed out.

They weren’t the simplest of lovers,

very weird, very out of the world,

their love wasn’t legit,

they conversed through only words,

words, printed onto paper,

hard or paper bound,

or electronically embedded,

into fanfiction.com,

her love wasn’t cheap,

who knew a necklace would cost so much,

and every time she held him up,

she was worried and hurt,

worried. for the doubt of his survival,

hurt, for the comrades he had lost,

It was weird, a 100%,

they were the titanic of ships,

built to survive, culled in its first ride,

like rose and jack they were to be it’s one true pair,

she was a fangirl,

and sometimes she wished,

to bring words to life,

for being a fangirl was,

the only thing,

that kept her away,

from staring at the ceiling fan,

and typing the full stop on her chapter of life.

Dix-Sept

An explanation, an apology letter, a rant.

Being seventeen is not easy,
Difficult an understatement.
The constant need to have a perfect persona,
For someone not even worth it.

To study more than to sleep,
To spend every living moment multitasking
To actually having to make time,
To chit chat with family

I hate seventeen,
I detest it.
I’d rather be two or even four,
Bundled in the cradle of innocence.

While I may be seventeen,
In a society that is so judging.
I constantly yearn to break free,
From the social shackles of society.