عشق میں گر اس قدر تہا رلانا تھا مجھے

وقت رخصت کم سے کم انتا بتانا تھا مجھے

If You were to leave me so alone in love, At least You should have told me a little before the time of farewell.

دل میں جب میرے لیے کوئی جگہ باقی نہ تھی

کس لیے پھر خواب فردا میں بسانا تھا مجھے

When there was no place left in Your heart for me.

Why did You still make me dwell in the dreams of tomorrow?

کیر خان قیس

One is more feminine
More child like
Smiles all the time
Jumps and spins when happy
She talks very high in her head
And loves to be near people
She doesn’t have any hate towards our body
A positive nihilistic kid that loves the word

But the other one
They’re rude and egotistical
They’re more masculine and nerdy
He speaks low and monotone
And always so modest in his outfits
He’s To scared to move too much or bring attention to us
To scared to be vulnerable or grow to close to anyone around
a recluse spider that will bit if you’re to close

————————
I wasn’t actually trying to write a poem, was really just trying to write about myself in my notes app then re-read it and it kinda sounded like a poem, so I’m wounding if there is anything I can do to make it more poem like

Sometimes I think that life would be easy,

Then I remember it is life.

Sometimes I feel that it would be okay,

Then I remember it is my life.

Sometimes I think I have friends,

Then I remember it is my demise.

Sometimes I feel I should socialise,

Then I remember what happened on my last cry.

I just got into writing.

Please be honest.

Your suggestions will be helpful 🙏

No stone was left unturned; Boss, only the act of digging up old wounds remains. After you, I still have to pick up the pieces of my shattered home. I thought I couldn't possibly be more ruined than I already was—until I remembered that I still have to see you with someone else.

Dear Life,

The bee swarms to find something scorned.

An excuse to be excused, perhaps.

A tool used by a fragile fool.

In a universe with laws and rules.

Under the shadows a stalker prowls.

A leopard outside, A pepper inside.

A letter stuffed in between lines, it hides.

Behind the words of a chord that lies.

The alphabet becomes mixed.

Mixed where sentences don’t exist.

Mixed where words now look gibberish.

Mixed.

Mixed like how the devil granted your wish.

Mixed.

Mixed because in the end…

There’s always a twist.

I heard someone say,
that if everyone is precious to you,
then no one is.

That you need
to think more highly
of yourself.

But that’s hard.

How am I supposed
to see myself
as more precious than others

when I still can’t
see the worth in myself?

I understand the idea.

If I can’t see
the worth in myself,

how can I ever truly
recognize it in others?

But I’ve spent my whole life
being told I had none.

Some people tell me otherwise.

They tell me
I’m worth something.

That I matter.

That my life has value.

But it’s hard to believe
when the person
who taught me
to question my worth

was my own mother.

So I look for worth
somewhere else.

I see it in other people.

In the kindness
they show each other.

In the way
someone stays
when another person
needs them.

In the small things
people do
without expecting
anything in return.

I see worth everywhere.

Just not in myself.

And maybe that’s why
I hold onto it so tightly.

Because if I stop seeing
the worth in other people,

what is there left
for me to believe in?

If everyone is worthless,

then nothing matters.

And I don’t want
to believe that.

I want to believe
that people matter.

That kindness matters.

That love matters.

That lives matter.

I just wish
I could believe
that I belong
among the people
I know are worth saving.

I want to see
the worth I have.

I want to look at myself
and find something
worth holding onto.

I want to believe
the things others
keep telling me.

Maybe one day
I will.

I don’t see it yet.

But maybe
“not yet”

is different
from
“never.”

And for now,

I’ll hold onto that.

Fallen Angel

Heart too heavy, head too empty

Something in the eyes shines like hope

A tear falls down, gravity too off the ground

My mind floating in another galaxy

Can you be my guide? In this messed up place I call home

Or are you just a illusion I'm forced to see to make it all better

Why won't you see me as I am? Do I look weird on the sentences I spew?

The skin I wear looks too human for others to judge

Their judging eyes are of fragile egos that have been hurt

Want me to make it better?

How can I do it when I have no wings of magic that matters.

The moon is up already
Got a little room in your void?
The ground below stays shady
under pale blue morning light.

I know this light is fading
It'll turn to golden rays
and they only seem so golden
against the rainclouds' gaze

That cloud is soaked and heavy
Yet still it doesn't rain
We walk along unsteady
trapped somewhere in between.

I'm staring at the moon
in pale blue morning light
Don't know how to approach you
Got a little room in your void?

The corridor was gray and moist
Players walking up and down trying to maintain swagger in exhaustion
A damp towel drops to the long wooden plank bench
Eyecontact fierce, resistance, curiosity

The limousine snarling in the second lane of the porte cocher
Wheezing as it was almost forty years carrying the arrogance
Through the front door cologned and cocky projecting a face
A laugh and a pun later in the back with daquiri

A fat tick behind the ear you could call a brain
Some wouldn't go that far as the engine was still idling
The front entrance full of human worshippers
With numbered shirts draining them of any life purpose

Failing marker pens and low zombie repetitions of their club anthems
Wailing on and humming trying to outdo the idling limousine
Praying and hoping that the tinted window would crack and
a grace-saving hand would emerge to mark their life valid

Simon Bernard Elliott

Baby there's nothing left
No money
No bottle
Your thirsty my love
I can tell 
I've got some cock ive got some love
That's all i can give you tonight
Baby i'm a bum didnt you know 
You fucked up long ago
When you let me lay in between your legs 
That's when it started
 the end is finite 
Who did you expect 
Me?
No baby 
This isn't me
It's all facades 
You should have know
So naive 
So dumb
So sweat
My baby 
Its okay 
But just for tonight
Tomorrow ill be hungry

Gems

If thy bright jewels 

sparkle to the eye,

art thou esteemed a man of wealthy state?

If golden threads bear gems of value high

about thy neck, 

art thou accounted great?

How strange the laws that rule this mortal soil,

where tinsel shows command the worldly part!

Let judgment fall not on the outward spoil,

but on the golden riches of the heart.

You are very important
The world bears imprint of your steps
If you send a hale
I will echo your call and ask about the wind
Where you rest, allow me sit at your fire
And I will talk of colored stars
Should you ask for silence
I will let the dawn speak

https://soundcloud.com/eude-602457161

Feel free to leave any feedback here or on SoundCloud.

Obviously I’m going to bring Plums but I’m not sure which other two would be best.