Poem #360

I want to say goodbye to myself.
The scared me that has been living in a constant state of losing control.
I want to say goodbye to myself, believe in reincarnation
believe I will come back as someone better.

I am done with myself.
I always thought my mind was playing a game on me
and I came to realize it’s just how I am.
If this were a game, maybe I would have some rules
maybe I would know why I keep on losing.

I can’t put up with myself anymore.
It’s not like I can storm out and run away from me.
I long for the days when my path was unclear because
it seems to me that there is no path left now.
The fog is lifted and the clock struck the time to end this.

Latest Poem: Poem #359
Youtube videos: Luna’s channel
Latest Coffee Date: Manipulating the Public Attention
Latest #savingme: Give Women Their Rage Back
Life updates: Productive Sunday


Poem #358

Sometimes you want it to be what it was in the beginning.
You want to hear “I miss you” and you want the gestures
and you want for someone to go the extra mile for you.

You want a love that’s a bit childlish and very spontaneous
You want to discover new things instead of reliving the old.
You want someone to treat you like you are above all.

And maybe you want it because you cannot treat yourself in that way.

Latest Poem: Poem #357
Youtube videos: Luna’s channel
Latest Coffee Date: Manipulating the Public Attention
Latest #savingme: Give Women Their Rage Back
Life updates: Saturday in a doctors office


Poem #357

Scene 1:
Everyone was walking on the ground,
she was walking on clouds.
Her life was a dream as she played the role
of the girl in-love.
From dresses to the lingerie they hid,
From breakfast in bed served wearing his shirt to
putting a drop of perfume on her thighs and neck
hoping he will memorize her scent.

Scene 2:
If the skies are crying, it’s not a sad day.
It was time to cuddle up under the blanket.
If he would lose himself along the way,
she was running to rescue him.
His burden was hers as well,
she found forgiveness for all mistakes.
Never once a flaw, bad hair days or unshaved legs
on the body she so willingly gave to him.

Scene 3:
It was all in vain, the fairytale land had one mistake.
It was tailored from movies and scenes,
written like a paragraph from a love story
but none of it was real.
Real feelings were put aside so she could play a role.
She imitated everything she saw love was as a little kid
just because she wanted to be picked.
She wanted for somebody to claim her, cross an ocean to find her,
do everything to sweep her off her feet.

Scene 4:
It was an award-worthy performance but it was nothing more.
An act, a lie, a desperate attempt to become loved.
The curtains are about to close and she can’t even cry.
The crowd is leaving but she cannot seem to find the strength
to leave the stage. So much of her was poured into this play.
Maybe when another one comes to the stage, he will appreciate
the performance and stay.

Latest Poem: Poem #356
Youtube videos: Luna’s channel
Latest Coffee Date: Is it all over in your twenties?
Latest #savingme: Give Women Their Rage Back
Life updates: I made stew!


Poem #352

Does losing creativity mean you have lost your soul?
Does the inability to create art mean you became hollow?

Life should be a well of inspiration but it was what
stripped your passion for expression away.

We have it all and we became the survive nation of the world.
There is no living in pretending to be happy.

The trinkets you acquire to fill empty spaces of your spirit
will always be just trinkets that break easily and go out of fashion.

Maybe salvation is in the rediscovery.
Rediscovery of beauty, art, living and poetry.
The rediscovery of the soul.

Latest Poem: Poem #351
Youtube videos: Luna’s channel
Latest Coffee Date: Equality in Parenthood
Latest #savingme: Give Women Their Rage Back


Poem #351

He didn’t ask questions, didn’t try to know you and
you fell in love with the way he held you
like a shell, a beautiful shell, but still a shell.

You built a story about your love because you thought
that you were supposed to feel love by then but it
was not love. It was excitement of the touch,
reaction of the body, sounds you believed you had to make.

What a terrible thing it is to convince a young mind
love is only skin on skin. Young and broken, you wanted
to believe that it was all real. Believe you had to ability to feel.

From that young age you were in search of those
who would touch your body but wouldn’t ask about your soul.
You put him on a pedestal, saying no one will ever love you like him
not realizing he never loved you to being with.

Blurry nights, packs of cigarettes and tequila shots.
Your hips, your hands, your body moving to the rhythm.
Your eyes closed, imagining those arms belong to him.

You decide to hide. The scars burn the same at 16 and 25.
You are scared that what’s inside you would scare the one in front of you. You perfected the art of being a shell, a beautiful shell but still a shell. The past is an old suitcase you hide under the bed.

You see him on the street and you want to scream:
“Why didn’t you care to know who I was?”
but not even a whisper leaves your mouth.

You are weak at the knees, the story flashes in front of your eyes.
Maybe you are powerless around him, because you are in presence of love? Maybe you were supposed to have it all but you were both too young? Or maybe, just maybe you want to believe that beautiful lie?

Latest Poem: Poem #350
Youtube videos: Luna’s channel
Latest Coffee Date: Equality in Parenthood
Latest #savingme: Give Women Their Rage Back


Poem #350

Maybe love is an ocean and while some try to swim,
some decide to let go and drown.

To some, happiness is a foreign body. They cannot
deal with something they weren’t exposed to before.

Some are scared to discover love because they know the
first question they’d ask would be:
Where was this my whole life?

Latest Poem: Poem #349
Youtube videos: Luna’s channel
Latest Coffee Date: Equality in Parenthood
Latest #savingme: Give Women Their Rage Back


Poem #349

I did not smoke a pack a day because
I was addicted to nicotine.
I was trying to poison the memory of you.

I wanted it to be as black as the lungs on the pack.
I did not want for it to have a chance to survive.
I wanted it to be the ash I just throw in the garbage.

Knowing us and what we had, the ashes would catch fire
and burn my house down the same way that love burned us.

Latest Poem: Poem #348
Youtube videos: Luna’s channel
Latest Coffee Date: The art of getting comfortable
Latest #savingme: Give Women Their Rage Back

The Poetry Bar

2:00 am

***little note from Luna: Not poetry as usual in The Poetry Bar, but I like it so I decided to publish it. Kisses.**

I’ve spent way too much time on thinking about doing things rather than doing them. Too much time is wasted on distracting myself and pretending to be fine.

“Pain demans to be felt.”

Here I am, 2 am in my room feeling the pain. It hurts but the hurting is a part of my life and I have (somewhat) accepted it. And I’d say I’m overwhelmed, also by this rusty feeling of pride, of unknown depth of happiness which doesn’t show. A few months ago, I was a disaster who did not hope to settle down ever again. I’m still a disaster, but I know I will find my serenity. Because, as I have always said, I can never give up. This was a battle that I never thought would fight. Turns out it wasn’t a fight afterall. It was a journey. One that probably never ends. One with darkness everywhere and the one with fireflies around me, making it beautiful somehow.

When I look back at everything that has happened, I don’t feel pathetic or nauseous anymore. I feel proud, mostly emotional. Because I don’t feel the way I felt back then. I’m not stuck on the edge of a stupid cliff anymore. I knew where I stood then and I know where I stand right now and there’s a huge difference, that I HAVE MADE. I know it, The universe knows it. And it’s smiling at me, saying ” That’s my girl!”

I haven’t written much in a long while. So many blank pages waited for me all day long with just the date and day on the top but they always found my face covered in my hands in despair. “Please don’t take your eyes away..” I get it, it’s a habit of mine. My New Year’s resolution would be not to take my eyes away. Not even from myself.
I should be preparing for my exams. But first, I want play the song that I’m learning. I want to complete the book that I started reading weeks ago. I want to write…. write. The thing I missed the most, my words. And I’ve written it. I finally wrote something. I learned something. I grew and am growing.

“The search will be beautiful.”
It is. Because in the end, I will find myself.

About me- My name is Sanya Singh. I’m 17 years old and I mostly write about my own experiences and things that I learn from life. You can follow my blog at .


If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail


Poem #346

The past crashed right into the present.
Right into this moment.
“How are you, haven’t seen you in so long”
We start making small talk and in your eyes
I recognize what I fell for.

I don’t know if I should’ve given you a hug,
maybe it would’ve been too much.
I wish to swirl that curl you have in your hair,
right above your forehead.
We were young and now freedom is replaced
by questioning ourselves.

Please don’t ask to see me again because
you know I will say yes.
Every time I couldn’t keep you for more than
a few hours caused so much pain.
We were young when our lips met, maybe we should
keep that innocence. Keep the past in the past.

Latest Poem: Poem #345
Youtube videos: Luna’s channel
Latest Coffee Date: Flowers in the Garden 
Latest #savingme: Give Women Their Rage Back


Poem #345

The light effortlessly came through the curtains
and created a golden line from her shoulder to her thigh.

That skin was like a canvas waiting for color.
That hair was like violin strings waiting for the music.

Human in the imperfection, lady in the nakedness.
Eyes like two oceans hiding secrets in the depth.

To entice the mind, to satisfy the soul she moved
her body to bathe in the gold.

The maker of desire, beauty beyond measure
she knew how to harness power in simple pleasures.

Latest Poem: Poem #344
Youtube videos: Luna’s channel
Latest Coffee Date: Flowers in the Garden