Why do you fear the dead? They have only one face, albeit a decaying one.

There is poetry in each and everyone of us.

There is poetry in every rise and fall of our chests, when we take in oxygen that had given life to a tyrannasaurus rex before, just as they give us now.
There is poetry in every overwhelming emotion threatening to drown us at midnight. For without this sadness or bliss, our journey to the grave will be a drag.
There is poetry in every adventure we choose to begin. It could be a new, longer route to school or a new park to explore when it is twilight and the children leave the park for home.
There is poetry in the beginning of a sweet puppy love or a bad break up.

I can't call myself a poet yet, after all I do not deserve that title. But can't you see, the poetry we all are?

When you tell a lie,
does it taste like cancer in your mouth?
Perhaps you felt the taste of sour milk assault your senses.
Or perhaps it tasted like cloyingly sweet honey that soothe your throat as the words went up in flames.

Perhaps your words hold truth in them
but the world is twisted
and the promises you made were broken
even before it reached my ears.

its time to open the windows
and get some air into your lungs
to inhale and exhale deeply without thinking and thinking and thinking
they say that the eyes are the windows to your soul.
so its time you open the windows
and finally start seeing
without grey smog fogging over your eyes.

open the windows to your soul.

open the door and breathe
locking yourself in your room will give you
cobwebs and dust in the hidden corners of your heart,
the parts which you no longer seem to remember.
your ears no longer listen
your eyes no longer see
and i wonder if your heart still beat
as i see the unmoving lump under the sheets.

open the door to your heart.

its time to relax your tight vise on the dying lungs
if you hold on so tightly to your lungs,
just like how you held your loved ones so close to you
and wouldn't let them leave until you had to open your eyes to the truth
slowly, you cannot breathe
slowly, your heart cannot beat.

open the fist that is not letting go easily.

There are faults along this desolate landscape. The concrete is falling away and stones litter the wide road.

Slowly, the rain starts. First with a light pitter patter and then later with hard knocks that dont let up. Slowly, the birds stop singing. They fly away. To the north, to the south or east or west, I do not know. I hardly felt their absence. It was the silence that made me lift up my head.

And what I see was the aftermath of an earthquake. The ancient colossal trees were snapped cleanly into half. The torrential rain was disappearing into enormous sinkholes. The collapsed buildings were ghosts watching over the dead city. The crowd has gone, so has the lights.

This destroyed land mirrors my destroyed mind. The birds have stopped singing. Everything is silent. And all I see when I open my eyes, is despondence.

*fault   (fôlt)
n.

1.
a. A character weakness, especially a minor one.

b. Something that impairs or detracts from physical perfection; a defect.

c. A mistake; an error.

2. Responsibility for a mistake or an offense; culpability.

3. Geology A fracture in the continuity of a rock formation caused by a shifting or dislodging of the earth's crust, in which adjacent surfaces are displaced relative to one another and parallel to the plane of fracture. 

You snake around me.
I never see you coming.

Appearing in the tall grasses of people,
and disappearing like vapour,
You are not a rattlesnake, aren't you?
Your hushed strikes do not startle me anymore.
I am too numb by the hustle and bustle of the crowd.
I am too tired of this struggle to fade away.

Are you going to sink your fangs into me?
I should never have turn my back on a viper.
Your lethal venom surely brought on this illness that I am unable to heal.
This mental disease entered my bloodstream,
traveling so unobtrusively that I have not notice it take complete control over me.
You wreck me up inside
immobilising me in every conversation
every question that demands an answer I cannot give.
Is there an antidote to end this slow sweet torture?

Are you going to hide behind a corner?
Your forked tongue can sense my fear as i draw nearer.
I do not want to find myself falling into your embrace.
You will entwine me further into yourself,
Tangle me in your web of fear, anxiety and self destruction.
And even as you crush and constrict harder,
As I suffocate slowly and my lips turn blue,
I cannot find my voice.
I cannot ask for help.

Anxiety is like a python after all.
Its steals your breath and quietens your heart before swallowing you whole.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Soundlessly.

The waves are crashing harder
than the sound of my pulse beating
The sea eagles flew ahead
Mighty and free, powerful with the gift of flight

A glimpse of a round, blue canvas above me is all I could see
as I lie down flat, on the sea bed.
The miniscule grains of sand are everywhere
on me, on my pale arms and down the curve of my spine

The mermaids tell me of the waves above me
and of the people that comes in floods of hundreds in the heat of summer
They invited me along to the swim to the top
but honey, I am tired and I do not try no more

Once I was from the land above
but slowly the currents drag me down
I tried to struggle but the waves didnt release its death-like grip on me.
It drowns me in a silence so deafening loud
Too tired to swim, too exhausted to care
I close my eyes and everything becomes pitch black
The sea swallowed me whole
I belonged to the sea now.

A long time ago, the people tried to save me
They came with a ladder to get me out
- the ladder that was the only chance I knew
I hesitated and I didnt know to reach out or not
then they were gone and I was alone again
After that for a longer time still
I wondered if I would have grabbed it with an intense fervor
or be deathly quiet and composed, sinking back into the darkness that hid everything the mermaids knew

Its dark down here in this abysm
I can hear the water pouring down
It hits my body without a warning
Its cold its freezing its numbing me
The damp sand is burying me and I can't scream out
The waves are threatening to fill this crevice

My anxiety is sky rocketing but my body is still
I will not leave this hole I am in after all.
This is the end I chose for me.