When God Broke His Pencil

when God was drawing me,

He broke his pencil twice

once at the heart

then where the brain is.

He picked up a sharpener

to carve the nib out again

but perhaps what breaks

right at the heart

doesn't grow the same again.

of all the times I have tasted my

own tears I know they aren't sweet

because sipping them everyday

didn't turn me diabetic

When I was a child,

I wouldn't sleep thinking

there's someone hiding under my bed

as an adult I am still sleepless

thinking if I could hide under my bed forever.

You can crumple a paper

but not a suicide note or

love letter. Is it so that

our weight is written on our face?

how do we differentiate blood and tears

Is it because they taste different?

If so, did you taste blood?

Is it because their colours are different?

If so, what if you were colourblind?

perhaps blood is body's tears

and tears are the blood in your eyes.

when I bleed, my body cries

When I cry, my eyes bleed.

this world isn't a holy place,

when people drown they pray,

but when they could learn swimming

they excused "what if I drown?"

Isn't it blasphemy?

they give into their faith

when water is in their mouth

not when it is under their feet.

paper might be called something else in urdu

but Urdu is called Hindi in Urdu

they can burn your home

but they can't bombard your name.

What will you save?

your land from burning or

yourself from turning cold.

Oh, did I forget to tell you

what about God's pencil

breaking at my brain?

I turned out to be a

poet.