Touch...!

When you touched my soul, I wasn’t too old

I wasn’t too young or forbidden by anyone

I wasn’t looking for love or to be romanced

I had everything I needed, so I wanted nothing more

But when you came, my heart pounced

I wasn’t expecting you or anyone

And then you touched my soul, something I hadn’t done myself

You taught me, by touching, that it could be done

And ever since, I haven’t let anyone else do it to me

What if I was only fragile and it was temporary?

What if I went on to marry someone that I thought I’ll fall in love with?

Ever since you touched my soul, it couldn’t belong to anyone else
Not even me...

You ruled, conquered and captivated

I’m being explored, and looked up

But could never be touched in the years since it all happened

Nothing comes close

Like my hands and legs opened up like a butterfly

Though I never could fly

Like being totally surrendered, when you entered

Moaning in silence, knowing nothing else

I went on with you in acceptance

As you rubbed and tugged

Hugged and ruptured

Havocked and stirred and ruptured

You touched my soul for once, and only once

For the very first and the last time

To rip it off my body

When I was 6

And I haven’t been able to find it, ever since!

Every morning...!

Every morning, I walk with new verses

Every morning, I hold them until I get to my desk

And then I open a word document from certain wealthiest maker

Then I feel like a beggar, who’s lost his fortune

It’s a mind block, many of the experts confess

They say it’s normal and happens

By acknowledging, I put myself into their league when I know I should not

And I know it’s not even that block, coz I was high in my walk

Until it disappeared in shock, looking at the word doc

See, wasn't that rhyming enough?

And I don’t pen down anything. What’s the point in having to write half-wits?

It’s not like I have to tear the sheet or roll paper balls

It’s just software that gets deleted

Or simply remains opened, and blank each day

And I look at it in guilt of keeping it empty

There’s a question mark that pops… one that’s imaginary

I decide, I should fill it with something

It can’t be forever thirsty

And then I collect my jumbled words

How long can I remain silent, and say nothing!

Something slips off memory and something else shows up

Some beautiful thoughts within mind seldom traverse

While mind keeps stuffs to itself and feels lost

Some part of the soul remains thirsty, waiting, looking out

And it’s another morning… And it’s like every morning…