It is odd
How we claim to love the dark
But seek light in our lives
It is odd
How we admit karma exists
But still do wrong
It is odd
How we say that we love one another
But end up killing our own brothers
It is odd
How we end up wanting the truth
But turn a blinds eye towards it
It is odd
How we claim to be a lost soul
But never try finding ourselves
It is odd
How we are a contradiction
Of right thoughts and wrong actions
Its like I’m always running. Running from myself at times and mostly from others. I’ve been running for so long that I have forgotten the touch of others. Even my body feels foreign to me. I am numb inside and out. My soles are bruised and wounded, when I take a step away from others I feel nothing. I like feeling nothing.
I run and run in hopes of never encountering anyone.
Under the star filled sky and the shimmering moon or even the blazing sun in the vast desert, nothing stops me.
I don’t mind it now. I have split skin and torn lungs. My heart withered into a corner. I don’t bleed now from places where he jagged his claws. I don’t shed tears now in pain. I smile and run. I don’t give them the chance to tear me open and see my hollow insides bathed in memories. I even run from memories. I’m always running away and to be honest, I don’t mind it.
Its like I’m always running. Running from myself at times and mostly from others.
It is not like you have much choice when you miss them.
Those little gestures that made you feel special than ever. The universe seemed complete when they clutched your hand in a busy street so you know they would never leave you. Among the crowd you will always have them.
The way they put roses in your hair and jasmine in your wrist, they will wilt like all things do,but the essence will live on.
Sharing coffee on the terrace at 5 p.m while the sun gently sets taking away all the worries of the day with it.
Exchange of glances at a party.
Morning kisses infused in your bloodstream like heroin in your veins.
They engulf you, break down the walls you built up high to protect yourself and become the poison with no antidote.
You find yourself wishing on that tiny star, hoping and praying.
God I wish this to last forever and if it is a dream then never let me wake up.
People change and time changes.
You are made to suffer more than your poor bones can handle and suffer a pain that sets your veins blazing.
No pain killer can cure this ache, no morphine can numb it down.
Like it built up, it falls apart and slips away.
Within minutes, you find yourself on your knees trying to make sense of the broken pieces.
You try to fix something that is broken beyond repair and in the process those shards dig in deeper.
Bruise you and make you bleed.
It is then a struggle to fix yourself from there on onwards.
Put the pieces together and be yourself, again
Learn with time to live the way it is and put on a facade
Until, night creeps up and you miss them
It is not much of a choice when you miss them when the clock strikes five, now do you?
This is what I became.
A dedication to someone dead.
An ode to all the addictions.
A poem to the heartbroken.
A story to the suicidal.
A piece of prose to the depressed.
A rhyme to those who loved.
A quote to the distressed.
I became immortal in the heart of many mortals.
I became the poison.
I became the cure.
I painted my soul and whispered to the heaven above
This is how I will cherish
This is how I will perish.
This is what I became.
I know it is you knocking on the doors whenever thunder comes. You know I will take you in like the last time I did. I will stand tall against the storm and provide you the shelter you need.
I know it is you screaming from beneath the sheets of illusion you wear. You want to shun out reality and seek solace in me because you know that I can stand the harsh realities of time and protect your dreams.
I know it is you running towards me when your infatuations go away. You end up with your broken heart on my doorstep, asking me to fix it. I do, because you know I have endured the pain of being broken to the core.
I know it is you sneaking up on me. Tip toeing in my life every now and then, asking for me to make you whole so you can only leave again. Walking down the purple avenue with your head up high and that childish grin.
Trust me love, I know it is you. I always have.
Nothing in life seems to be enough anymore
The heroin that crashed once like waves in my veins does not seem enough anymore
The hash in my cigarette that numbed me down does not seem enough anymore
Liquor bottles and absolute drinks don’t cease to be enough anymore
My poisons don’t seem enough to kill the demons inside of me anymore
I kept asking for the ocean and got the river instead
Finally, when I got the ocean and drowned
It just doesn’t seem enough anymore
My beating heart doesn’t seem enough to keep me alive anymore
Love and hate, nothing seems enough anymore
My bleeding heart on paper does not seem enough anymore
This whole concept of living does not seem enough anymore
My love, nothing in life seems to be enough anymore
Today I spoke to God
I think we conversed a while
I said hi and we lit our joints
I told him how I betrayed myself
And how I’ve deceived the morals I held
He laughed and grinned
Puffed and I smirked
As I spoke of how I had finally achieved peace
He told me I was lying and that he could see
I smiled because he knew and said I agreed
How I am a shallow being lost and not seen
I asked him all this time where he had been?
He told me he was there but just not with me
I told him my purpose feels absent and obsolete
He said I’m not alone in this feel
I looked at the decaying rizla, smoke dancing on my hands
I knew God would be gone now as soon as the show ends
And I would have to light one again, in a while
To see him again
To talk our ends
Hello there. I hope you remember me. I hope you remember all the time you spent with me. Its okay if you don’t. Most people forget. I am an easy person to forget. People get habitual to my existence. I dissolve just like the air around them who is always present but they fail to see its importance. I become a habit. Ordinary and then with time just boring. I fade like a shadow into oblivion. A voice lost in outer space. I don’t blame you for forgetting me. It is the trait of a sane person to forget. You are sane. People forget the little part of their lives they spent with me. They do. None that I know stick around. It has become a part of my life. A part I am comfortably beginning to accept. Let us say I have become numb to the people around me. I do not find the need to be constantly surrounded by people. I in fact loathe human contact. Call me weird. This is just me. I found solace in other things. Things that are deemed unacceptable by the society are my home. I think I lost my soul in the process of “getting along” with people. I am trying to get it back. Broken. Bruised. Dejected. Loathing. It is okay if you forget me. Not everything in life is to be remembered after all. You left me behind in murky waters. I dissolved into it like I was forever a part of it.