He sits awake through the night, fighting an internalized pain, clenching at his hair, breaking through an eternity of loss. an expressionless void, a mute plea for utter numbness, a betrayal of innocence, an abandoned grave for a heart, an isolated cemetery for a mind. Dressed in contradiction, neglect evident in his eyes, perfect perceptions, …
The stream at the edge.
Try screaming on a busy road, where impatience laces hearts, tying knots, taut and firm. Try breaking down in the middle of the road, and watch your tears become traces of selfish sweat, uncared for and forsaken. Drag your weary feet back to that stream, at the edge of all inhabitance, far away from everything …
A million fallen certitudes.
Encircling these loose threads around my fingers, giving into the fragrance that still lingers upon the surface of this woolen shawl, I wonder how much longer before this too shall fade away, before this too shall untangle itself from me, and become another forgotten regret, another uncomfortable silence. I wonder how much longer before the …
Lanes.
I have learned when you come across a person that carries genuine preciousness in their eyes, not the sharded worldly desires or some swollen earthly melodies, take a moment and commit their beauty to your heart. Let it occupy space, let its rarity drive away the chaos that bleeds through these mismanaged lanes, because once …
An endless loss.
​Every breath of mine is reminscent of your loss, loss that spilled from your veins and bruised your skin, the loss that hid beneath plastered strength like encrypted consolations and misplaced sorrows, the loss that danced like flickering street lights upon your tear stained face. And with every breath that I take, I'm reminded of …
New year, old me ?
Certain places, they just give you a sense of closure, its like there are doors slightly left ajar, and there are loose threads that hang from the heart but the tranquility you crave comes only with silence, with the fading of nonsensical din, because even in the company of many there is an obsecurity to …
Before this sun sets.
​So before this sun sets let me hold this moment close, Let me tear at this angst and replace it with the traces of your soul. Let me forget what I have been before, the misery that I have lived before. Let me find myself again, new and refined within the confines of the flawed …
The night burns.
The night burns, The laughter burns, The nonsense ridden words also burn, Within empty eyes, And broken smiles. They burn down to ashes, Gentle and unfamiliar against the timid philosophies of minds unaware, of souls that lurk within depthful sorrows, of hearts that suffocate within caged confines, of the battles lost to an injustice of …
Heartfelt.
​Among people you are distant, awfully hesitant, for there are expectations terribly broken, sensitivities more heartfelt, breathing inside decaying particles, apparently insignificant yet ignited by the sincerity of action and the honesty of perspective. A grave well dug yet unbelievably shallow, a doubt slightly tarnished, for even hate and retaliation to exist, passion and persistence …
Morbid.
​I'm sitting again in this broken ride, Travelling distances vast and slow, Adjoining pieces from a soulful scatter, Setting places up, Bringing fields to vision, When there are ruthless knives That strike inside. When there are scars still fresh, Wounds that still bleed. When there are questions too deep, Resting in voids And reasons too …