there is nothing more hollow
then looking back to your own life
with a pinch in heart
moving on is a freedom that you've to make
as for nothing is real
nobody is there
i see my heart with an aching sight
with each of beating
it drowns more
in an aisle of despair
like slipping moments
moving one place to another
without any hesitation
i intend to leave this life
just so ******* scattered
i crave for peace
it feels too much to be in ones own body
it ******* hurts
like a needle in body

i am not gone
but i feel myself gone
truth is harder to tell but lying is cruel
being cruel is considered good
so is the lying ..

we crave for own space
this space in my heart that is shattered says
'write poems'
but my life tells me to go on
it's too painful to write your own story
and to rewrite the narrations of what you felt
it just feels too much
sometimes more than these words can describe
and i feel helpless
this heart...this my very heart
it feels so heavy
insisting of loading all the grief of this world
convicted of grief, pressure
all the mammoth madness
of this life
this hype that everyone talks about life
i just don't agree
as sometimes
i even lose the motivation to breath
this pain which is never just mine
but of living too much
for others!