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Ruheen Aug 13
when you light a match
watch the flame
burn it black
wisps of smoke
reach your fingers
it's warm
it's exciting
then you put it out
it's still warm
part of it
permanently black
vulnerable
so you let it
crumble

i'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere




Once I lit a match. I wanted to watch the fire. I watched the fire burn the wood and turn it to ash. It was turning black. I saw wisps of smoke curling between my fingers, as the flames got nearer. I could feel the heat. Before I got burnt, I blew out the fire. And the flame was gone, but that black wood, that ash, still remained.
That’s when I had a thought. Maybe that’s what happens when you decide to be bad. When you choose to be evil instead of good. When you give up doing good for doing bad.
Maybe when you make that choice, a fire ignites in you. A fire so bright, you can’t see anything else. But it’s like bliss. Blinding bliss. And you let that fire burn when you continue to be bad. It makes you want to do worse. Because it feels right. It feels like you can finally be seen. But that fire, that flame, it’s burning you, to your core. It turns everything black.
Eventually, you extinguish the fire. You don’t want it anymore. But you don’t know that it might be too late. Your heart, your soul, your mind. It’s all gone. It’s black. It’s ash. It’s a part of you now, a part you can’t get rid of. It’s still there; it won’t just disappear.
Ruheen Aug 13
if only we could exist
for a single moment
at only one place
for only a memory
that would be solely ours

but we are flesh and blood
we travel and continue
to exist at different times
in different places
we cannot seem to stop
yet we believe
our existence
is extraordinary

when will we realise
that even the extraordinary
is ordinary?
....figure it out. I'm going to sleep.
Ruheen Aug 13
~

in a British accent

i do not fear solitude
i fear being left alone after already having someone so close
i'd rather enjoy my own company;
it is for this reason, amongst others,
i think myself to be quite fascinating

~
It sounds better in an accent. I pretend I'm in some historical fiction novel or movie.
Ruheen Aug 13
i lack the lyricism
they all expect
me to have when
i'm feeling miserable
and can't confess
with my tongue
but instead
have to express
in writing
because it's best
to have an outlet
so you don't
regress
into patterns
you thought
you left and
disregard the
feelings you
expelled
because they
haven't disappeared
and are merely
suppressed
and then i
ask myself
*"what the **** am i doing?"
Ruheen Aug 13
I don't care enough about me
Or you
Or why the world spins
I can't even sleep
And somehow you think
That I'm hanging
Onto your every word
You are my muse
And I'm a flighty bird
With no direction
And listen
I understand
You love the attention
The gazing
The movie star treatment
And inspiration
Is hard to come by
So take what you need
I'll gladly concede
But leave me
Out of your dreams
I must be
Out of my mind
No that's you
I'm alright
Ruheen Aug 11
i just don't feel like smiling
but i can be nice
sometimes
it's august
used to be july
stating the obvious
isn't a crime
neither is smiling
once in a while
take a look
inside my mind
you'll see how
august
turns to july
Ruheen Aug 11
I like the physical
Feeling
of vertigo
and dizziness
reeling
back
from blurry
ceilings
and voices
I can't
keep
around me
revealing
lines on
my wrists
with excuses
I can't sleep
I like the physical
feeling
of blood
on my skin
reeling
back
with pleasure
and sin
revelling
in the
metallic
taste
the peeling
back of
layers
with haste
The physical
feeling
of pain
that is
leaving
is beyond
those who
want to
keep
living
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