I guess there's no right time, For words to say, For words to hold back. I guess there's no way, For me to go, For me to stay back.

Gin rahi hu mai, Tinka tinka, Har ek tukda, Jo toota hai, Aaj mein, Kal mein, Hisab jo karna hai, Milkar ek din, Inn sab dino ka, Aur raato ka, Jo behisab tukdo mein, Tooti hai, Jinhe gin rahi hu mai.

What if the world is ending, And I come to meet you, But you don't want to meet me? Will the world end before we see each other? What if I'm breathing my last breaths, And I ask for you, But you are too busy to talk? Will I stay alive until we could talk one last time? • feels incomplete but i don't have more words tonight

I'm rehearsing apologies in my head, To tell you when you hold me, After all the silences that I keep, With the words that break, Me and the moments, Meant for more.

My silence is the answer, To your loud words, That accuse me, For feeling this way. So, let me bury them deeper, Where it is tough, For me to feel, And tougher for you to dig it out.

There are these words that go, Unnoticed, Unheard, Unwritten, Unsaid, But they don't have a place, To be noted, To be heard, To the written, To be said, Unapologetically, Without interruptions.

Aankhon mein aag hai, Par neend ka dhuaā bhi toh hai, Aakhein khol du toh, Sapno ka tootna bhi toh hai. Kitni karwatein badli hai raat bhar maine, Dhuaā neend ka halka hi toh hai, Sirhaane gire aansu hai jo, Sapno ka tootna hi toh hai. Sooraj ki kirnein ab aati kahan hai, Raat bhar jaisa andhera hi toh hai, Khamoshiyon mein dabe paon, Sapno ka tootna hi toh hai.

This phase of my life is called I'm here but I'm not. I'm there but I'm not. I'm okay but I'm not. I'm holding on but I'm not. It is okay but it is not. It is what it is but it is not.

Hiding away, Under the stars, With secrets, Not just ours, Somehow holding on, To heal, The heart's scars.

I sit peacefully, Looking at the archer, Aiming it's arrow right at my head, And somehow having faith, That I will live, After it hits me, When I know, He has never missed an aim, And there's no one spared, When the arrow is on his bow, Yet, I have peace in my mind, And laughter in my heart, As it hits me hard, And I live, Fighting it, Without flying, Straight towards the archer To Fight.

I am my own heartbeat, But my heart is yours. I am my own breath, But my life is yours. I am my own person, But I would like to be called yours.

My distracted thoughts, Leading me back to you, When moments demanded, To stay here and now, But I am now, Carefree too, When moments demand, To be here and now.

There are whole nights, Breathing alive with memories, Of cities bustling under the moonlight, As conversations brew, Under circumstances new, Bringing alive, Something lost, As something is found, Within our thoughts, About me and you.

I was humming that song yesterday, The one that you shared, The one that I didn't like, And mid-lyric I realised, How I still don't like it, And how I still can't stop singing it, Because maybe if I didn't realise, The subconscious did, That it missed someone, Unconsciously but evidently, Making me sing a song, I wouldn't normally do, But since it's you, I do, But only because, It's you. I still don't like the song, But it's you.

This hazy moon stares at me, In my silence that I hold, Maybe somehow it knows, About the hearts deadly cold. So I stare back, With gnawing questions, Maybe somehow it knows, Answers to this depression.

I think every day, To be the last, Until another day shows up, Tougher than the past, Defeating me as I fight it, With as little hope as I can cast.

This feeling clutches, All the words, I had saved, For you and I, But in the absence, Of us, Nothing matters.

I want to just feel the peace, When I close my eyes, As the swing goes up and down, And the air floats my hair, Higher as the swing goes. I want to just feel that moment of peace, Without the constant knocking, Of the thoughts, Inside my ribcage, Wanting to get out. But, good girls don't scream, And they don't shout, They definitely don't speak, Out so loud. So why do these thoughts, Exist in good girls like me, What have I done wrong, Maybe being good is a sin.

I think I have PTSD from a word. resilience (n) I believed that this word is one of the most strong and powerful words, Until I overused it, And wrote so much about it, That maybe it lost its meaning. Now, whenever this word creeps up in conversations, In life changing stories, In appreciations about consistency, About being strong in the worst of days, And yet not giving up, How inspiring, How brave, How tough, How .........! This word gives me chills, And not in a good way.

I have hoped, Probably because I thought, This time it would be different. But I have learned, That I expect, Hope to turn into reality. Yet it is the same, But it has changed, My hope in reality.