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 Apr 2017 Kylia
Idiosyncrasy
change
 Apr 2017 Kylia
Idiosyncrasy
You didn't change my life
in a moment
but you changed it
more than any moment
can hold.
Stayed home. Hours.
7/30
 Apr 2017 Kylia
Isha Kumar
I don’t know where to begin,
where to start,
or where to end
and where to stop.

I don’t know how to tell you what’s on my mind.
There are so many words missing, words I can’t find.
Because my mind is a warzone, it is a battlefield.
And my shield is broken and my weapons are blunt.
There’s nothing and no one to protect me in a war against myself.

I scream and I scream, and my skin, my voice bleed and I hope I wake up and it’ll all just be a dream. But it’s not, it seems.
I feel shunned though I have been told I’m loved, and that those who’re around me, who surround me love me.

But I find it hard to believe it now.

Time flies so fast for me
or does it stand still, I don’t know.
Minutes to hours, hours to days.
And it’s getting difficult for me to see
beyond the fog that clouds my thoughts, my eyes.
So I put on a mask
And do the impossible task
Of waking up every day
as I struggle to put on the play.

But the problem never goes away.

I slowly start shutting myself out from people,
stop going to places that are crowded
all the while enjoying being shrouded in the dark of my room.

I feel doomed.

I don’t like to cook,
I don’t feel like reading a book.
All satisfaction is gone and
I don’t know what’s wrong.

I don’t enjoy the things I used to.

There’s no purpose for me,
I feel.
No motivation.
Everything is just white noise.
Everything is static.

So I stand here now,
tired and weary,
at a path
so dark and dreary
leading to different directions,
all the while thinking

**I don’t want to exist anymore.
 Apr 2017 Kylia
ryn
Death
 Apr 2017 Kylia
ryn
These eyes search
but I only see the insides of my lids.

These words I muster
do not make it past the sanctity of my chapped lips.

These ears hear the cries and celebration of the world I once knew
but yet... I do not.

This skin fray at its edges but still envelop
this strange familiar plane... And I struggle to find my bearing.

So I indulge...
In this little serving of death.
 Apr 2017 Kylia
ryn
Overthinker
 Apr 2017 Kylia
ryn
I tinker
I overthink
I mull over
I sink

I entertain
I disassemble
I ascertain
I gamble

I play
I rewind
I play again
And again
I find

I reassemble
Still I sink
I'm in battle
When I overthink
 Apr 2017 Kylia
ryn
Feud for Thought
 Apr 2017 Kylia
ryn
This is my feud...
This is my fight.
Many are my thoughts,
I hide from sight.

I show myself steady
but much remains unseen.
Ungreased are the cogs in my head.
Their teeth sharpened keen.

They eat and abrade.
Always turning, always grinding.
Results always made,
detrimental and unforgiving.

So think of me...
Not negligence maintained
and notions bought.
Think of my feud.
Let it be food for thought.
 Apr 2017 Kylia
ryn
Performer
 Apr 2017 Kylia
ryn
He presents what you see
with impeccable finesse.
He hides everything else behind the curtains.
Heavily veiled by his smiles...
Cleverly masked behind his script.

He stands elevated, taking his stage.
From his vantage he sees all.
He allows his facade to bask in the light...
Whilst keeping his back in the shadow.

He's renowned.
By the light that kills the dark.
He's addicted to the nightly ovations,
cascading cheers and gleaming reviews.

But every show has an end.
Come every dawn, he wakes to the reality
that tolls at his door.
He's owned and he knows it...
Too well,
by the stage he built
and the drama he wrote and casted.
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