there's a lot of emptiness sitting back
on my spine,
waiting for warmth of the sun
a better place to grow.
exhaustion in my eyes,
i just let them drown.
tired is an over exaggeration,
not. not. not.
not rage myself but knead
softness.
breathes can only exist for a while.
sitting on one side of the bed
looking the other half
it helps me with nothing.
i fall back deeper.
more.
again.
and harder.
a part of me now gone.
vanishing ahead more into
pieces,
promises,
aches,
tears
where only i can see myself.
what's inside
and what's stirring.
sit beside me.
let me tell you stories.
listen to me love.
break wild the sun in me,
feed it your soul.
i know evening's better than
you.
Painting (opposite page) by Christel Roelandt
i never knew
Poem by Deepali Gupta
before
that simple words
could create new worlds