Own Critics

If you believe

In quality. over quantity

Then why don’t you ever feel

Like you’re enough?

Mother’s Land

Bones unbuckle. blood thickens

With relations to spare

The first & last time

I gypsy on home

Unlike change

I felt foreign; to some

Self

Follow your heart

Hmm

Do you even hearit beat?

F(act)s

Silence your love

Only as much. as your speech

Let it breathe

Exhale it’s reach

Release

View material. as feelings

And watch. how quiet

You become

Simply-put

Simplicity is hard to express

Expect that

Except that’s not always the case

Sometimes something so relatable

Speaks volumes till it’s too late

Trance

They slept through it

Life

Not knowing how

To live with “themselves”

Or pronounced “someone else”

S.L

Love learns within then teaches without – limit

Some search for years, only to find

You don’t look for what you already have.

The Walk

I like to walk around sunset

As light and dark ensue

A dog barks it’s two cents

A shallow tree’s shade

Mimicks comfort

Tracing my footsteps

Fades of half

Shadows I once created

Drawn to bask

Unlike change

I am foreign; to some.    

Closing the gap

Time stands still, irrevocably

This time; between seconds

Rectify our loss, redeem it

In some third person dialect

Chance catapults chances

Like birds leap trees

I believe

A thought unwoven berates

As thoughtfully as dust

Just because…