adolescent idealism is a hoax

my mind’s racing,

they say it’s normal,

not abnormal,

adolescents are like this, don’t mind them,

crazy minded, mindless,

bezelled by the universe

chatters and impulses, smoke, lights,

cries, they say it’s all just

because we

romanticise life,

with our hormones

but is that so?

maybe you adults just

downgrade life, cut it with a knife

forget its beauty

and newness, freshness born

into every moment,

you lament,

but we, with new eyes,

untainted still see life for what

it is,

beyond your

clouded mind.


night times, we stay awake,

head in a racing car game,

throwing thoughts like elastic shotguns

sons of euphoria followed by

hands tumbling over keyboards,

fumbling pencils,

crumbling cameras, strumming strings,

creating some things

to let out the excitement

of living in a body, on a floating rock,

gawk at how the heck did we get here?

we do it not for the future, not because

it could amount to anything, but the



we strip clothes off,

teeth fall off,

eat bitter earth,

scorch our fingertips,

plunge into crisp waters,


why because we don’t know

who we are, (the greatest gift)


curiosity, ferocity

this stubbornness to keep

standing, discovering

unstopping stomping

unapologetically launching ourselves

into this world.

but i say it’s because we know

this world is nothing but

a cardboard box stage,

not a cage,

and we’re here so infinitesimally

so, to

cry over, suffer over, joy over,

get over,

unpreel, then refresh and start over

every time

the sun shines again.


And we,

get to be someone new,

someone bigger.

reach out further

away from where we started,

we know we can be anything we ever


as long as that flame burns


not related to age spurts,


to just, be alive,

feel alive.



i say it’s not,


i say it’s our true nature,

as humans,

before we comply and forget

not take a bet on

this miracle of a human life

before we strive to stick the feeling of freedom

under a desk like gum,

before we construct the cage of

what is and what isn’t


and think about it,

those times where you thought

nothing would stop you-

that’s when your invincibility existed



nit-picking at adolescent impurity


i knew

it was going

to happen


or later



opens its hands

to unravel

before you

a long

long letter




a letter

about the

same old things







i thought

i was going to

be happy tonight

but i guess not

i thought

i was over the

same old things

i thought i

was over the

same verses

i seem to repeat

in monotonous


same old



it’s always

the mind and

the mind

same old

same old



i guess thats

what adolescence

comprises of

its masquerade

of gifts

you don’t know

who you’re

dancing with

until the moon

comes out,

the mask

peels off

and that’s when

you feel weak

because there’s nothing

to tweak

you’ve played

with the idea

of something


until it’s been unveiled

and you can’t

help but allow it

to engulf you tonight

as you rest on

your pillow



and the cycle

starts again the

next day

and the mask

comes off

and yet

you can’t help

but shudder

every time it happens

close your


but it

seeps through,

seeps in,

until sleep


and takes it

away momentarily



so all i can

do ,

out of this phenomenon

is to document it

with lanky

words that

flap in the wind


fan out

trying to pick

up the dust of last

night on the roof;




watching waves


roll towards


leading nowhere

me trying

to remember

how many times

i smiled

and what muscles

to contract

in order to show

the straightest

array of teeth



the straightest


the straightest


the straightest


just for you,

packed up in a

pretty little


that’s how you

like me?