writing turns pain into poetry.
something dark, cold and dreadful into beauty.
etched into the universe forever.

but,

when i'm happy,
when life is blissful,
when the rain feels euphoric
i become at a loss for words..
i go blank
the feeling of felicity is fleeting.
and is then forgotten.

life goes back to being blank and empty,
and the beauty of the moment that once existed,
is lost forever.

why do i bear my sadness like armour.
and let the happiness slip through my fingers.

we cant sit
and stare at our wounds
forever
we need to heal,
it starts somewhere
it takes a toll on you
but
we need to heal.

The colours of the world once danced for me,
But now they stand, all grey, though if they moved I’d barely see
Music painted dreams that nourished my soul,
But now it drowns the turmoil I can't control

You-
An invisible force.
Shaping my world,
Without a word or any remorse.

You asked me for love, I gave you faith.
And then you shut the gate.
So please, I beg,
Stay away.
And just like the moon shines bright in the night,
Try not to ruin my day.

Who am I if I stop running?
In this endless race,
Endless twists and turns,
This labyrinth with no clear escape.

They say the cheese waits for the clever,
for the fast, obedient, and blind.
But every trail,
There's nothing to find.

Ever so often,
The walls of the labyrinth close in.
Soft enough to muffle my screams,
Hard enough to bruise the parts of me,
That still have belief.

They mark my stumbles,
Analyze my pace,
Their eyes flicker, cold.
Hands leaving nothing but a trace.

Each maze-turn reeks of someone else's fear.
As if their ghost still lingers here.
Haunting.
The ground remembers each fall,
Each and every slammed-into wall.

We were promised purpose.
It was framed as choice.
But not once did I hear my voice.
Only the loud ringing of bells, bright lights,
Rewards, and shame.
Yet I still carry all the blame.

But something stirs beneath the ache.
A whisper no test can replicate.
What if i pause, mid-turn, mid-race?
And let stillness flood this frantic place?

when people see a person hurting
they seldom try to ease their pain
they make jeering remarks
and take their own digs and hits
for no one notices
if a bleeding person coughs up blood
those silent souls, drift alone in the dark.

if only hearts could learn to mend,
hold the broken, be the friend.

Tight
Suffocating
The itch
Oh, I was in a stitch.
The prickly shroud, a heavy cloud
My silent scream within, a twisted din
It pressed close, a cruel design
Those barbs and wires, I let out a hushed whine
The fabric held like a stubborn stain
No matter how much I writhe and tear, seek release
It never ceased, my inner pain.

It was torment
This endless plight
To feel just so much, yet lose the light.
Though in shade, a heart caught ablaze
Longing desperately for comfort,
Unafraid.