So tell me you love me softly and repeatedly. 

He does not comprehend

How hearing the sound that his vocal cords emit

As his lips give way for one phrase to escape over and over again

Has stopped me many times from picking up a needless fight. 


You are your own Man

When you roam around 

This crowded Earth


You are your own Man.

It is part of your defence.

Your female instincts 

Are suppressed 

Until they are needed.

Once you find a partner,

The one you can proudly call 

Your Man,

Your defences

are disassembled.

Your feminine self

Is born 

To coalesce with

Your live personality.*

*This piece does not indicate that a Man is necessarily stronger than a Woman. It is more focused on the fact that when you are finally in a relationship, it is okay to depend on the partner you have willingly chosen. Ofcourse you still remain the strong independent woman you are. Your feminine side is the added factor here. 

Life is a struggle

Her scorching scream

Is as silent as death.

A crusade 

Within her conscious

In black and white form.

Fighting the polluted air

Reaching anyone 

But those who cannot hear.

Her throat is bleeding

The harder she tries.

But that is reality, it seems.

You cannot voice everything

You want to express. 

You cannot word the feelings 

The way it exists within you.

She might not be able to scream 

As she would prefer

But she will sigh

Until she can roar

Like the Lioness that she is.


You construct 

Your own figure



You present yourself

To this world

And creatures that live in it.

Some assent with the person you are.

Some toy with you and your emotions,

And as they trifle, 

Your personality adjusts.

The pieces of the puzzles 

Of these situations

Are rearranged

To help you strive and overcome.

But even if the puzzles seem to fade

And you adapt 

With whatever is left 

In your life

One piece of each event


A default. 

A reminder.

A leftover that will not rot

To protect you. 


Death feels so distant

Yet it lurks nearby.

It observes your doing,

The things you do to others,

More importantly to yourself.

It grins with your sins

And smiles softly at the benevolence 

Of your heart.

It sleeps with its eyes open.

Does it have two eyes like us humans?

Does it feel?

Will it feel the pain you have 

When it takes your soul?

Will you even be in pain

Or will you die peacefully?

Will you be surrounded with loved ones

Or will you be alone, unnoticed?

Will you see its form before you leave?

Will it reveal itself

Or will it be wearing a black coat 

As the stories are told?

Will it show you the choices 

You have willingly led?

Will it comfort you

Before sending you away?

Will it be a judge

For your sins?

Will it be a friend 

For taking you from a chronic pain

Or an enemy 

For taking you from a gay life?

You don’t know, do you?

You can’t ask Death 

Even though it’s closer than you think it is.

In fact, Death would probably

Be the one with the questions.

Asking you what you have done 

What you have given



The whats and the whys. 

Will you be able to answer then?

Are you even prepared?

Because I know…

I am definitely not.