I can't write...
     I have a stash of twenty drafts, bearing a couple of lines each
I can't crack...
     Every draft seem to have developed a shell I can't breach
I can't gather...
     My thoughts so I could nurture these drafts to fruition
I can't think...
     The clatter in my head meant only to deafen
I can't fathom...
     What went right from what had gone completely awry
I can't find...
     Much needed sanity to let soar and fly
I can't cry...
     The tears I've beckoned for so very badly
I can't scream...
     Only muffled gurgles of notions drowned at sea
I can't see...
     The bigger picture...that consumed us both
I can't hear...
     Except for the dreaded voice of reason that I loathe
I can't piece...
     Together one decent little write

I can't breathe...
     I can't breathe...*I'm losing this fight

I saw you.
In a room full of people,
Yet sitting by yourself.
Head to fist,
And black kissed your lips.

I saw you.
With your headphones In,
Drowning out the world around you
Won't you just let us in?

I saw you.
Wearing a veil of black,
with your paper white skin,
and death-ridden cheeks.

I saw you
and your hesitant smile.
With eyes that laid dormant,
From all the revile

I saw you today.
When you thought no one was looking,
and im yelling for you,
Shouting I'm here.

I looked down a high cliff
at a restless ocean below,
I climbed the proud mountains
crowned with lofty clouds,
I reached the serene jungles
sitting in silent pride,
I did not find it...
I visited the richest nawabs
in their castles and towers,
I ate with the lowliest creatures
whom language didn't own,
I met the right-hands and mouths
of Gods we know from pages,
yet, I didn't find it...
At last, lost in thought
I walked by a crowd
Some in white, some in black, some in uniform.
All turned to a majestic but still figure
In an honored embrace of the Tricolour
Twenty-one guns and croaking crows later
I heard a little girl's cry -
"Keta 9GR ko ** ke hoena" - ** ** **
The tears never ceased,
The roar never stopped
With faltering steps, the brave-heart...
There.
I found it,I found inspiration.

(Refer to the notes)

Within
A realm of fantasy
My mind it takes control
Painting pictures
Photographs
Prepared within the soul

Imagination
Plays its hand
Cautions cast the style
What I see
Is what I am
And will be for a while

Perception
Leads a blinded eye
To where the path begins
For the moment
I shall wait
Right here so deep within

I hurt myself in little ways
In the beginning.
I’d force myself to spend time
With people that I didn’t like,
People that didn’t like me.
I’d end up frustrated as the tears
Cut across my cheeks
Drawing invisible scars.
That was only the beginning.

I began to deprive myself
Of the simple pleasures.
I’d throw up after every meal.
I was dehydrated and malnourished
And it still wasn’t enough.
My mouth burned and
My stomach turned on itself.
I couldn’t sleep at night.
I didn’t want to.

Stage three of my self-hatred.
I secluded myself from my friends.
There were days that I
Wouldn’t leave my room,
Wouldn’t leave my bed.
There were days that my head ached
From the tears that burned as they fell
Onto photos of people that I used to be,
People that I wish I could be again.

After that, the inclination grew stronger.
I couldn’t decide between drawing blood
Or refusing to draw breath.
One bottle of pills, one locked door.
And it would all be over.