Has it ever been that you’ve stopped just a step before you were about to do something? Have you ever stopped being yourself, caring for yourself and cared about others’ opinions instead? Have you ever stopped dreaming? Have you ever stopped living?
Deep down, you’ll realize…that yes, it’s true. You have, each moment, each minute, each second of your life, stopped doing what you’ve wanted to. Stop trying , for what you could have achieved and won.
People will speak the shit they wanna. Will let you down, will try to chop off your wings. But don’t listen to their opinions. Fly, as above the sky you can. Swim the deepest of oceans. Spread your wings like an angel, and soar above the sky. Run, walk, crawl, but just don’t stop moving ahead.
© Khushi Suneja
Your love tried to take the credit of my poetry. But unfortunately, my dear, it were your scars that compelled me to write.
I wonder if you look at yourself in the mirror and feel the same. Do you feel the way I feel? No, you don’t. You don’t have the scars to hide, or the marks to run away from.
I was never ever so pretty as much as you made me feel one day. Just like I was never ever this unfortunate as much as I felt this day.
You never ever even touched me. Yet, you left your marks. Now your scars lie all over my hands and legs, marks on my face, and bruises on my neck.
Do you have anything to regret? I hope you do. And I hope it’s the scars you are the most regretful of.
I know you’re trying your hardest to be at your best. Behind the smile that you fake everyday, I can see the pain. I can see the pain within your gorgeous eyes that lie behind those big frame glasses. I can hear your soul cry.
I can feel your body get numb each time you see yourself in the mirror. Wondering, whether there’ll ever come a time when you’ll look a little better. I can see you curse under your breath each time you get a glimpse. I don’t blame you. I was never impressed by what I saw in the mirror either.
I can feel you getting nauseated each time you get reminded of your past. Each time someone mentions it, you feel like dying, I know. I can feel it too. Recalling everything, makes you cry.
I know pretty girl, what’s going inside of you.
© Khushi Suneja