Concerns.

What concerns me the most,
My heart, and its ghosts.
Ghosts of all the years past.
Ghosts of my mistakes vast.

Priorities suddenly go hay-wire.
Small things, huge shapes they acquire.
Small gestures, and small talks.
Incomplete conversations, memories just stalk.

Concerned I am, about myself, and me.
They seem different, is that even a possibility?
I am improbable, I am usually unstirred.
And still somehow, an anxiousness usurps.

Long nights, alone, aphotic.
Moments of blues quickly leave.
Now, just concerns hover, and that is all.
Just concerns, and an empty white wall.

I have no idea why, my mind plays such tricks,
It teases, it remembers, it's sly and it's slick.
The smallest of them actions, the biggest of them lies.
Every single one of them, to fool me it employs.

But my heart is strong, or so I feel.
There is something that to it does appeal,
And that is, the comfort of the moment.
And for awhile, serenity settles in.

Illusions.

It all comes shattering down,
In one swift motion,dead.
Run of the mill,the talk of the town,
Or the only thing in my head.

Chimeras, fallacies, all over due,
But then again, that is all they were.
Dreams, unseen, never to be true,
Pieces of my heart disappear.

Clouds of confusion, up in smokes,
The hurtful truth, up in my face.
As the facts themselves to me spoke,
I stared at my reflection, sad, and disgraced.

Was there any truth in that beautiful satisfaction?
Or was it all a colossal illusion?
Was it all a figment of my imagination?
Was it all just a part of my own delusions?
  
The splinters of my dreams puncture my feet,
Nose up in the air,as I step on them and leave.
The matters of my heart, ever so discreet.
And the mess I made,because of the lies I believed.

What is worse than being broke,
Is being broken hearted.
I laugh it off, this cruel, mean joke.
Over the screams of my mind and heart being parted.

Why should my mind be blamed,
For all of my heart's mistakes?
No, it would be a matter of shame,
I'd rather spare myself of atleast that one ache.

Run into you.

What's passed is in the past,
Once and for all, aside its cast.
But what should one do if suddenly,
The past runs into you, ever so subtly?

The pricks and the tickles.
The mind- now so fickle.
Is it right or is it not,
To let memories suddenly flood all your thoughts.

But along with the exaltation,
Comes again the hurt, frustration.
And again you wonder what to do,
When suddenly the past runs into you.

Towards our future, we run from our past;
But we're too slow, it catches up alas.
And now its a dilemma,  whether or not,
To run all toward it, or away at all costs.

But when you do somehow run into something
That you were hoping never to run in,
 Make your mind quickly to hug it or leave it,
Cause what your heart wants, you will surely receive it.

There is always a way for the past to run into you.
But the question remains whether you want to too.
The heart is never firm as the future is unsettling,
The past is still comfortable, but is the present less tempting?