I never understood how both
a self-obsessed egomaniac
and a hopeless romantic
could inhabit one body;
perhaps it is the reason
I have spent so much time
in front of the mirror, hating myself.

As sleepless thoughts savage,
the devil whispers into my ears,
softly triggering,
resonating melancholy,
the moan of a creature known to be depraved
and sinister,
soon becomes the lilt of an angel
who was once unfortunate
and misunderstood.
he calls me religiously and persistently,
captivating and lurring me,
to a side that has a melody; unknowingly *unholy.

Tormented mind
Smothered soul
I cradle your aching head in my arms
Press your face against my chest
The greatest sense of belonging flows through your veins
As the love you gave has not been lost
For your body weakens
But your heart beats strong
You are my longing and every burning desire
I'll hold you close
If you set my world on fire

If only some words were air,
          I would have breathed in all.
                         Inhale the lines into my lungs
And see how it heals the wounds
                That was forgotten in a mighty storm.
     If only some words were air,
Living this life would have been
                                    like seeing the sunset,
Like how suddenly winter remembers summer
                                          And like how I once fell in love.

What was the time when we started the evolution of ourselves ?
What was the time set when the first clock was built ?
Past is only an abyss overcomed ,
Passed and been through with our minds physically and mentally
And future a chasm to be magnetized into and dragged down in ; working and going so hand in hand that like writing this piece of verse being the present is being my future as well
The window of transition from present to future being so narrow it actually overlaps one another in ways
So thoughtful and ineffable
The present being me writing these lines and the future being the outcome the whole verse which is now in process while I write this
Only a thin line of perspective and time difference or backlog occurs between them
Keeping the both distinguished from
each other letting them mean what they truly attribute for
There are three abstracts working simultaneously -the past present and future
The cognition of the brain undergoing a change in every single milli - seconds ; a transition from its current state of mind , carrying the neural data of the past nostalgia into the future
Those 3 abstracts                                               Playing its game of mutation and novelty over mind and body ...
While in all this the soul is the one feeling the time .....

Harboring suspicions from blinded eyes,



Acid gurgles under sugary lies.



The stranger swaying dementedly to and fro,



On rocking chair thoughts, their mind on show.



How should you react when a dagger is drawn,



Neutral, or reveal a suspicion is born.



Eyeing the ranks of human heads,



Thoughts emerging from crumpled beds.



As you cannot see the source of the shot in the dark,



So you only hear the tune of the singing lark.



Consipiracy theories, click codes on the mouse,



As the snake coils into the empty house.



In an unreal life, nothing recognised,



A stranger lies, looking into a stranger’s eyes.



Steadily repeated stabs of deceptions,



From foundations, of fallacious conceptions.



Locked in a make believe play of doubt,



Interrogate the evidence, turn inside out.



Within delusory ink and pens that bite.



Making sulphuric phrases into tools of spite.



Elvis on the radio confirming your thought,



Suspicion in a tormented trap you are caught.



Eliminate subject and object, unravel the day



Anchor to a certainty and then drift away



For it has always been and will always be so,



A blind thought will return to the house of shadow.

Look for happiness outside...
And you'll burn your fingers.

Look within and you'll realize...
You'll never have to look anywhere else.

When your thoughts are so jumbled,
And when your words come out mumbled,
A chill rises over your skin,
And the room might start to spin.
The moment you realize everything hasn't been how it seems,
You've been living a lie,
The time for nightmares is nigh,
They've taken over your dreams.

There will come a time when the tears will run dry,
And your heart will keep racing, making you feel like you could die.
But, please, not today,
I've got so much to do,
But I'm asking myself 'why should I stay'?
Is there anyone who really needs me more than life,
Can I have a good reason why I shouldn't pick up this knife?
Have I just been a distraction for you?
An escape from stress, loneliness, from feeling so blue?
Because I may not always see the silver lining,
But I'm not asking for much, I most certainly am not whining.
Is it so hard to care about another?
Someone else besides your father, sisters, or brother.

This world has become one filled with people in masks,
Hiding who they really are, making up pretend facts.
But I guess its strange I feel so at rest,
Except for this hole in my chest,
And this blood flowing down my body,
Then again, maybe I'm not the one who should be sorry.
Was I wrong to be so kind?
Should I have thought more about what you had in mind?
I'm just thinking in circles,
Why am I throwing myself through these emotional hurdles.
As a hopeless romantic by day,
And a sinner at night; I do have one last thing to say;
Do you feel mighty holding my heart in your hand?
Ripping it straight out of my chest, do you feel more like a man?
Because all I see is a coward,
I've got no clue why you feel so empowered.

I often catch myself
involuntarily whispering a phrase;
"I wish I were home"
while at my house.

I dream of a character
that I know exists but I'll never find
because I'm too comfortable with
being alone all of the time.

Light pets my cornea every morning, through the sunshine printed tapestry...
I prefer the synthetic things in life,


the irony.

I still remember
the night you told me
That you'll do anything for me
The night your eyes were covered by tears
You told me that you loved me
You my dear mother
The inspiration of my life
I dont want you to get hurt
But i still hurt you
I dont want to see you cry
But i still make you cry
I'm sorry for each little tears
that flowed from your eyes
because of me
I wish i could make your life better
By being better

You can't see,
as I wouldn't show.
It's an art colouring,
with hidden secrets,
you are the one with the secret soul.
The false veil is taken.