Burnt Bones

There is no justice written

In this world.

It is what you make when

your bones are burnt and left

as a black stick.

When the fire has gone out,

Someone might have written

Something new

In the ashes

But

It takes a great sky to find

That one line written inside you.

It is difficult to

Feel special when you are lost.

And,

You might think that

You are leaving with

The light that fades quickly

But,

Believe that

You are learning to be no-one

 To be someone one day.

---

You are arriving.

Being Myself

It was 2 am.

I couldn't sleep.

Wanted to call few

But,

I knew I won't find a room.

I know I don't have right to blame you.

But,

I blame myself for searching you.

People said that I'm straight forward

And

Warned me that I'll be cut first.

And

They also said that they

Hide my path with falling leaves.

But, 

At least I never wore a mask

To cut you.

Yes, I'm sad.

But, 

At least I'm being who I'm to myself.

.....

I have hands to pat my shoulder.