Suzy writes

The Voices in My Head The voices in my head, So deep, so loud. Call to my inner self, To ponder what’s true and what’s fair. “Keep your distance,” they say, But my heart only wants to play fair, To love, to give. Relieved to see smiles so fake, Only for a moment, until they fade, Into thin air, into dust That blinds my eyes like glitter, From my imagination, until it isn't. The voices in my head, So worried, so scared, Of losing the sparkles The only thing that’s left. A cut so deep, It makes me weep. Tears stream down my cheeks, Then disappear with a smile so big That no one truly sees, The scars beneath the tissue, Unbothered, clearly not their issue. The voices in my head, Now silent, now still, Whisper one last plea: "Let go, but never forget The love you tried to give, The battles you chose to fight, The light you tried to live." And so, I close my eyes, Let the echoes fade, Carrying with them All the love I couldn’t save.    

'Twas a rainy night, and in the hour late Thou held my hand so tightly, with fate I ran to thee, my heart aflame aglow Thy bright smile welcomed me, and so Our eyes met, and time did stand still A deep breath taken before I could fill The silence with words of love and devotion To unknown places, with thee, my heart's motion The bitter cold of winter's night Thy warm embrace did comfort and ignite The more the merrier, they do say Closer to thee I pulled, for I could not stray   I did not believe in love at first sight But thy silhouette, in the morning light And in the dim streetlight, lingers on Thy memory forever, though time hath gone I try to resist, yet my heart doth take flight A flutter within, though all shall be right The scent of fresh limes from thy sweatshirt, sweet And gentle kisses, thy touch so fleet   I wish to speak of the emotions within But all I do is dwell in the moment's spin Blind was I, not to see th...

    Love, the sacred emotion I believed, The ability to mend, the sentiment that connects, Poor shattered heart, you believed all that you could see, The tales you whispered keeps tinkling me, The warmth of your heart I keep on longing, Tell me your alibis that I can't stop blindfolding,  Deception, your elegance, You who fiddled with my heart, I'll let you deceive me one more time, For I am stronger than the lies, I'll lean a shoulder on you, To shed all your tears, I'll lend you my ears, And calmly listen to your side of the story,  With the fading daylight, the dullness of your extortion surrounds me, The clinking sound of my shattered self, I camouflage with a playful smile, Love, that mend, also possess the ability to bend, My reflection portrays the healing of a crusade scar, While you reflect a deceptive heart, With all your might try and delude me, I will bamboozle you with my delusional heart.

                     At 3 in the morning, unconsciously reaching my hands to grasp my phone just to check on new emails has now been a crucial part of my everyday routine for the past few months. Oh! I am so used to waking up to the buzzing sound of my email, even on the weekends my subconscious self prefers to wake me up from my sweet dreams for any updates.  Sunday morning, I like to start my day with a ray of sunlight gently stroking my skin and sip a cup of a breeze along with the melody of chirping birds as I raise the drape. I have always been an admirer of the beauty of a sunrise and the dewiness of the morning. The best part of a weekend is that I spend less time on screen, I would be lying if I say so. By the weekend, the impending emails and checklist pile up. I find myself miserably buried under the stack of inevitable checklists. Sitting in a corner of my bed and scrolling through the laptop, my entire day passes by...

                                                        In a cluster of purple hues, With the intoxicating fragrance of petals,  She closed her eyes as she reflects on the memory of her first love, The lovely rose which won her heart, The tears she shed under the blue sky, The golden rays that shone on her heart, The purity and innocence she beholds, The celibacy she cherished has now been a curse, Purple, the only color that hems in, her love is color blind. But Little did she know that petals blossom and wither accordingly, Lilac, created with equal intensity of red and blue, A mixture of compassion and tranquility, With the falling petal that caresses her, the magic of lilac begins, The bud of hope begins to blush, The dusk was turning into dawn, The scars on her heart healed, And her long waited curse now uplifted, Lilac, the emblem of...

                   What defines beauty? I am beautiful with my freckles, dark circles, acne, and scars. My skin texture doesn't define my beauty. Neither the color of my skin. I may not define an ideal beauty parameter but ain't no skin shaming can distract me from my true ambition.  I am not flawed, I am one of a kind. Sometimes I go through hormonal changes and my skin flaunts it. And some of us are just blessed with genetics. Why is it socially unacceptable to go through internal changes? And who sets the beauty parameters? What exactly defines true beauty? My skin doesn't hinder my capability.  I am not lacking in any aspect. I equally contribute to serving Mankind. Why is there so much hatred regarding skin texture and color?  My beauty lies beneath my skin. And I will not hesitate to flaunt my imperfections. I ain't gonna cover my scars, they are as bold as my choices. I will use no filters to hide behind the camera. I will walk out in confidence with my bare skin...