The collection, "Conversations With Myself," is a reflection of my personal encounters. It tells a tale of the deepest and darkest events of my life, sworn to secrecy. So, I write them down; the things I want to say, the stories I wish to tell. These are conversations I have with myself. I. My Anxiety & Me I can hear the words of one just like me I think they want me to answer, but my lips are sealed Still, I open them but the words that come out play back in stutters How I miss the quiet The thump in my heart screams like a hazard The heat closes in on my skin, then sinks in miles and miles within its measure I hear the words of one just like me again I feel myself going into a dead end Anti-socialism has always been engraved in me It’s what I’ve always been drowning in I came out haunted, every molecule I had took advantage Never once given a chance, you see, I was always destined for misery I hear the words of one just like me I’m encased by anxiety, thrown back and forth by my winning enemy I’m short of sane mentality, it’s a nightmare My anxiety and me II. Little Child I didn’t know, that back in the day You were throwing my throne I didn’t know, what it would’ve meant To my little-girl-soul Oh your treacherous glow I took it for a charming, cynical delight Your mastermind goal, who would’ve known It was a plan to lose my sights We moved into a love affair Painting up a picturesque view of my innocence But you derived from my youthfulness Washing your hands after a night of significance Your skin touching my skin But I burned from your cavalier lips Nothing has been familiar everytime I look in the mirror While the memory stayed dark The light bulb strikes before the upcoming lark When I’m solely wrapped up in my own thoughts I think back to a time When a man was simply a man And a little girl who lived without a fault III. Hometown Do you see my hometown? It’s a field full of nothings now All the buildings torn down No more of the chirping sounds Memories of the sunny afternoon Haunted all my midnight blues Once a view, but now a sad truth Now there’s nothing left to lose We ran and played on the shade of emerald green The wind blew, and the kites were flying with glee I had excitement hidden under my sleeves Smiling from ear to ear, it was a beautiful memory Such innocence came in the prospect of youth Eating candy and ice cream, feeding my sweet tooth For Barbie, and Disney, I pledged to them my childhood I said, “If I had this forever, that’d be so cool!” Hold on to your childlike whims I promise it’s full of valuable means Sometimes I wonder about my teddy bear, Winnie Would he be proud of me? Honestly? I wonder if he would be IV. Crime The smell of your corrupted lungs I must admit, it used to entice me with such charm your bad boy moves kept me together like glue I’ll tell you, poison never tasted so good all our puzzle pieces fit together our love story went on like a harmonious weather But like a sudden wave of earth’s tantrums You hit me like a brick, full of bloodied anger I was your anchor, but I was weak and bruised And just like a fool, you remain my solitude I should call you my crime you were forbidden, illegal and full of cursed demise but I was completely blind, to your torturous mind I was mindless, you were heartless Cruelty ran through your flesh and bones Yet I let you sit on my throne I won’t forgive, nor will I forget But I’ll cherish the good that we had a cliche I know, “your love felt like butterflies” but in the end, let’s be honest, it was nothing short of lies V. Stolen Whisper In all my days, I never found my place Even with you, I never found my face Though I felt you there, even with your warm embrace I could never call you my saving grace Maybe the wolf cried ‘terror!’ in vain But when you left, every part of me screamed your name Your memories, painted and flushing through my veins The doctors refused to pick out my pain I said goodbye and heard my heartstrings tearing It sounds like a cancer-filled death is nearing Did you ever notice my faith wavering? Because of you, my name was sinning I felt like a stolen whisper You stole my voice, now my message is unclear I never took you for a lover’s crime I always thought you were a sweet lullaby Never mind, it was time for a goodbye VI. Lilac Dream I fell in a rabbit hole And with each passing day, I lost my backbone It felt like I was a complete stone I had riches on the surface Sadness disguised as scratches I lived a world full of madness Before you came along, I thought I knew better But then the world shined brighter And my heart grew warmer Soon enough, lilac dreams clouded my mind And suddenly I stopped feeding my lust for crime I could've sworn, you came in as a lullaby I think cupid was there, but he was scarlet You were an exquisite thing, so maybe he was an angel incarnate You laughed at my jokes, and replaced my prison with flowers Slowly, my world bloomed with a smile and fresh harvests After a number of hopeless romantics, Who knew that I’d be struck with my destined love story? I dreamt of a paradise, but never have I imagined a real-life fantasy I found a way out of the rabbit hole I lost my riches, but I’ve got a heart of gold With you by my side, how could I ever feel alone? VII. Rose-Coloured Glasses We’re lucky to experience this kind of romance Does it feel like love in its theatrical sense? Or do you think it mimics that of a celestial event? I think it’s what Shakespeare would have read My midnight wish is that this romance won’t be momentary For I love the homey musk in that body scent you carry This affair of ours is almost tangible, no signs of tragedy I pray to God that that is what it will he Did you know your eyes follow that of a crescent moon? When you smile, you glow like the sunset’s hue Truly adorable, everyday I’m thankful For how could I have been so lucky that my prophecy is you? If I’m blind, please keep it secret My rose-coloured glasses are what keeps me full of spirit With exception to your warm embrace, it’s astonishingly sacred Cherish me in your heart, and I promise you this story will be infinite VIII. Winnie The Pooh If I could paint a picture of my childhood, I’d paint up Winnie The Pooh I’d throw a ceremony for that yellow face He stays in my memory like childlike faith Resilient, happy and curious The times spent with him was simply luxurious Wouldn’t change it for the world His honey-covered hands, he was simply absurd I’d cuddle with him as I sleep With my little nightlight, and my innocent dreams At school, I’d name him my best friend I’d show him off to everyone in the land Looking back, he would have made growing up a lot easier A reminder of him would’ve made my mind a little clearer Oh that bundle of joy, how I’ve missed him and his pointy nose All the adventures up in the meadows, it was a life full of hope IX. Red Lights ‘Warning, warning!’ The lights were screaming red And a stop sign, appears in the back of my head ‘Leave, or forever be scarred’ But my stubborn bones kept screaming ‘Lies!’ I went and went Kept my bulletproof, young heart, in kempt But nobody ever made a living at camp Exposed my skin, and sold my youthful innocence But none of the riches’ measure, could hide my shameful scent ‘Warning, warning!’ Too late to turn back time These running tears, drained of my might Only left with scissored down pride, to complement my broken wings If masculinity taught me anything, it’s that they’d take down everything Should there be a soul in sight, catch them before they make an escape One could not live in this world, without their heart kept safe I’ve lost the security laced in my bones, every time a man leaves me his throne ‘Warning, warning!’ Forever be scarred, indeed To what do I owe the misery? The red lights, has no silver lining X. Aphrodite I love touching your skin It’s like summer and winter wrapped into one The way you paint your lips onto me Like an element of surprise of being the one you want It’s tattooed in my heart, that this love won’t be counterfeit But I’ll confess my truth, my veins and my insecurities are intertwined Do you think I’m pretty, like the goddess Aphrodite? Would you inject your love into me like Greek times? I’m not searching for fatal attractions I won’t beg for a lie or a Shakespeare love affair But I do ask for your confession What is love if not just and fair? I think your eyes hold the jewel of innocence Adam & eve could never defeat your measure Your beauty is that of masculine elegance But pray tell, do I give your eyes pleasure? XI. Midnight Conversations Midnight conversations always comfort me It’s always full of pain injected so deeply So full of starlight hope and pretty galaxy wonder We’re truly human when our masks are stripped from under Secrets are shared, feelings are confessed The midnight truth could be exciting or leave a mess Some say it’s human atoms that come to coalesce- when human meets human, and they’re all undressed The moment is beautiful when the clock strikes twelve It’s when we all come together to meet ourselves Freed from painful realms and hard shells Engaging in midnight conversation, is to be compelled XII. A Bully Strikes ‘Hear, hear!’ The bullies are here Come to show their might, and bring about fear Pray for the citizens, they are the inferior They’ve come to kill, they’ve got hands of a killer ‘Hear, hear!’ Beware of their canons, they’ll target your souls And leave you abandoned Their hands like devil, your lives they’ll dampen Despite the light, your days they’ll darken ‘Hear, hear!’ Please be my witness My bones are poisoned from their deadly venoms Their greatest gift is their greatest weakness A bully strikes, and claims their vengeance Leave me authority, I’ll have them sentenced Give them death, and take away their descendants The blood of a bully will stay contagious Look at all the damage, they’re all infected

"The Two Faced Portrait" is centered in the idea of simplicity. The inspiration for this piece comes from my personal experiences with individuals, and how they change their faces behind your back. https://www.instagram.com/that_sameer_tho/?igshid=ZmZhODViOGI%3D

Living life, we forget that we're not the only creatures with life, family, and feelings. Illustrated below, others, invisible to human eyes, are curious about our ways.

In a world driven by sensibility, the game of appearances becomes the only truth to hold on to. The veil of objects is not to be unveiled, for under the surface there only lies the void. This exterior-most-inner surface is life itself.

Maybe what I am is a personality. An invincible entity that believes in true love A persona strapped to tortuous connection, searching for release Maybe what I need is distance. From the lashings of kinship and the realities of society From myself, and the hatred seeping from between her teeth Maybe what I want is freedom. To destroy the handcuffs of expectation and the manipulations of the trusted To escape the traits that frighten me I am a scattered mind, dripping in conceit.

I love to capture the natural beauty of flowers, so soothing to our eyes.

TW: Sexual Violence Born in the weeds, grown in the dark But still beautiful was life, a garden with flowers, the soothing pleasure of the mud made me grow You being familiar was unfamiliar- Made trust a joke, made life a hell Innocence was an identity once, pain a novel one I've heard people change colors, and you showed your real ones My fault was not the length of my skirt or my colour I believed in humanity, a supporter of altruism You built hate and sowed the seed of antagonism Negative isn't about what happened, instead the way one perceives it The heart is clean Mind is innocent But still lost euphoria, because of what you did I lost freedom, I lost life, I lost happiness, I lost love Will the state of mind settle? Will my identity be restored? Will days of optimism again hold my hand? My freedom is mine, not a gift to others My hope belongs to me, none is yours My life is mine; it is all mine Forsaken on me Abandon me for all peace of mind for the life I have ahead "Stop dwelling on the past and let me make my future" my soul wants to scream aloud A victim and a wrecker A sufferer and an achiever are enough to change the wretched The need is to change the hearts- Fill them with love and fraternity Expand one's way of perseverance Guide my soul again to optimism and fill life with colors I wish you could understand the pain reserved for women There were antagonists, but in a world opposite to real There were heroes, but in a world opposite to real Because people hardly opposed the act The struggle is not just mine but one of a million dreams A million dreams which will find their way and see where they belong I hope it's time to leave and see if your heart melts There is a beginning of a new life, with a realization born

Loss, sympathy and grief- These are the words that generally can be summed up in a term called "inferno." When we've lost a beloved, we feel more than just helpless. These crippling emotions lead us to tremendous and overwhelming uncertainty, which I tried to portray in my work.

This poetry collection is inspired by homesickness and nostalgia. A little part of us always misses home, and I wanted to capture that feeling and express it through my writing. Themes of missing the potential and missing someone are manifested. I. you don’t realize something’s wrong you don't realize something's wrong until you’re calling an old friend every day just to talk about what’s been on your mind. because everything is constantly on your mind and it feels like if you don’t tell someone, you will explode. or implode, whichever does the most damage you don’t notice something’s off until you’re crying and calling your mom for the third time in two days just to say you miss her. you miss home and your old life and everything you used to be. you swallow your pride and the guilt of leaving home to let her know just how hard it’s been. just how much you’ve been struggling. you don’t realize how long it’s been since you’ve truly been happy, even just for a day. how is it already november? how is it only november? you need to sleep for a thousand years and maybe then you won’t feel so tired. so you won’t feel this bone deep exhaustion that never seems to go away. everyone wants to grow up and move out but no one wants to admit how much they miss it all. no one wants to acknowledge the fact that it’s really not all that glorious. you’re sick and tired of boston and the slow trains and the busy busy people. and you just want to go home. II. I missed my bus to Boston. I missed my bus to Boston and I’m stuck in New York. I need to hear your voice and feel the softness of my bed. wrap myself in my favorite blanket. I don’t think I can make it to December. I don’t think I can make it through this year. can someone stop the world from spinning and everyone from moving and time from turning? home has never felt so urgent. I need a break and a vacation and an excuse to get away. I can’t stay here anymore. I’m so sorry for all the things I used to do and all the things I used to say. I was young and naive and I know that’s not an excuse but I miss you. I regret it all and I promise I’ll be better. I know I can be better. I just can’t take this anymore. I’m craving a place and a certain feeling. I don't want to be an intruder anymore. I want to not feel exhausted just waking up every day, dragging my feet through everything I do. I want to feel at peace with the wooden floor beneath me. I want to not feel rushed and silenced every time I speak. I want a hug from you, and I want to know that everything will be okay. III. strawberry twizzlers lately, I’ve been starting books I’ll never finish I think I’ve read ten first chapters and never felt the urge to go on I love reading, I love living I’m teetering on the edge I feel so fragile, delicate, frantic what ifs can topple me over maybe it should maybe I should fall maybe in the midst of falling I’ll see my life flash by before my eyes, and I can finally grasp the meaning of everything maybe I won’t, and I’ll just be falling some habits never change I trim my nails short and never paint them the residuals of being a musician I’m listening to old songs I didn’t like and loving them have I changed? am I better, or worse? everything I do is wrong I’m really nothing special and I’m glad. IV. the world is blue I’m so glad to have had you, even just for a short time. you’re a book and I’m just a page in it not just a line but not a chapter. I love this feeling of being known, of being understood perfectly, without the need to explain myself. I can’t get close enough to you. I can’t get enough of you. I was only ever yours to break. but I made you all up you’re not real, and you don’t exist. the world is blue, and I’m still thinking of you V. it’s autumn and the sun sets early. the wind has a bite to it and so do your words. the leaves fall and so does my heart. it’s always sometime like this, when I analyze and overanalyze and think and overthink until I’m someone I no longer recognize. until I ponder the meaning of my existence and come up with silly reasons. I need to read more books. I haven’t finished that TV show. I need to go to that concert I bought tickets to. sometimes these reasons feel monumental, colossal, bigger than me. like I’m just a speck in this ever-evolving world. never growing bigger, but never getting smaller. I recognize my issues but I don’t want to be fixed. my problems are who I am. it’s conditioned in me, and as much as they hurt, they also comfort. maybe I can coexist- codepend on this unbearable weight of my own guilt, my lost talent, my elapsed potential. maybe I’ll stop thinking that I’m never doing enough. and stop being terrified that I’ll wake up one day and realize I’m settling.

"Trepidation and Hope" explores themes of the fears we face, both individually and as a society. The collection also addresses how others strive to change who we are, contributing to self loathing. I. Liability I cannot see; The world around me, appearing hazy I cannot breathe No, not with these pale, lissom hands Enclosing me; Epiphany is choking me. Someone help me What have I become? This ashen, broken thing Is this really me? These recurring, Virulent visions What if they're actually true? "This cannot be firm," I cajole myself. My gory hands, They seem to say otherwise. This relentless struggle, These ruthless words Are to be blamed. These justify Why I killed myself; Changing what I was To what the world wanted me to be- A submissive, shallow girl; Are you happy now? II. Hope Behind your broken eyes, I can see your lost soul; I can hear your shattering heart. Your face is stained with tears, And millions of scattered scars From battles fought in the past. I look at you, and see How much your soul cries. Over people that don't care: Over people that don't matter. Hey you, whenever I look at you, I see a struggling child, I see your ruptured heart. Remember me always, For I will be the candle of hope, With that everlasting flame. And I will give you the warmth, That you forever yearn for. III. Innocence of a Young Girl those insincere, deceitful words dripping from your tongue those flattering remarks that I blatantly believed. a young, ignorant girl ready to believe everything that came her way. wrapped up in denial, she just couldn't fathom how cruel the world could be IV. Boulders Submerged beneath the waves of loneliness, I try to move on. One ferocious wave after another; Together they strive to bring me down. There! I did it again! There! I lost myself to the boulders again! A raging sea building up inside me, Was this who I was supposed to be?