Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
mashing brains like potatoes,

add a little salt to bring out

the flavour

castrate the  scientist in your head

and bring back the

magic
to be picked apart is tragic
sullen
black
darkness
im crazy
im not sure.
laugh alot.
pretend its okay
soak up the sun
soak up the tears.
make it winter
drown in tears.
while in the streets.
they sing festive cheers.
sanity.
sanity.
sanity silence.
   vanity violence.


i m still confused.
since when.
everyday.
i dress my wounds
a little more.
a little more fancier.
i hide the scars.
where no one can find them.
maybe only me.
deleting words i type.
why? out of shame?
what is right. what is wrong.
painted
images come in my mind.
is this a cry for help.
i wonder.
am i going crazy.
what is crazy.
maybe i'll try to explain me.
and maybe you'll be the judge.
fast
incredibly fast.
is there a therapist in the house.
i dont trust them.
they are boring.


are girls really illogical.
that makes me angry!
i dont want to be illogical.
i hate myself.
im scared of worms.
i like dark colours.
i think alot about accquiring stuff.
distracting myself from actually thinking.
by thinking of other stuff.
like how to be pretty.
have dreams and ambitions.
but im just building stuff up.
inside, im confused.
cos this dreams and ambitions are shallow.

and nothing makes enough sense.

tell myself repeatedly,
wash the clothes. wash the clothes.
it sits there. 4 days i think.
soaking in the water.
why do i never do that.

touching water. i rather be sleeping.
i rather be writing.
i rather be doing anything but cleaning.

but it keeps bothering me.

clean the room. clean the room.

why?

for whom?

i like it this way.

nobody visits me.
im a mess.
my room is in a mess.
keeping it clean will be pretentious.

should i put on a front.
people will like me better that way.

stop nagging me i say to myself.
and i start nagging myself to stop nagging myself.

so many different thoughts.
**** yourself.
laugh harder.
jump off the building.

magic dont exist.
im a non-believer.

funny amazing.

why do i like so much
to laugh.
why.
why.

why do i almost cry when i laugh.

why do i secretly wish i could cry my feelings out.

and stab myself.

pull my hair.
scream.
lean back. stare at the ceiling.
silently.
i get tired.
shhhh...

sit on a rocking chair.
to and fro.

make creepy voices and laugh.
why is that funny.
laugh very hard.
refuse to think hard.
im just writing whatever.
i need some help.
i want some help.

does normal exist.

i hear you.
i just heard you.

laughing.
ice cream over your face and hair.
how come i remembered.
i wasnt telling myself to.
i wasnt saying oh this is fun. i had fun.
i just do.
i didnt write then.
i didnt need to.

you smiled at me. i smiled back.
we were kids.
we were free.

and slowly time eradicated your smile.
or mine.
it holds too many secrets inside.
my mind.
and weird how time is.
it feels like a drag yet looking back, its all gone
in a puff.

now your smile is tainted.
complicated you know.
one does not always smile cos one is happy.
there could be alternate reasons.
its not straightforward.
how are you? a question asked one too many.
can we really know?
ask and you shall receive?
receive the deception?
they say they are fine.

if that seems enough questioning to convince you.
you must be a fool.
either from choice or not.

i dont like people.
i like them.
but maybe not always.

my friends are great but i keep secrets from them.
so it tortures me to be with them.

its a self-inflicted torture.

its a tainted smile on my face.
its the lonely night like this that
im writing this.

its the out loud wondering.

what's going on.

its a need for some explanation.

what am i doing.

im losing my mind.

there is no coherence.

im not losing my mind.

i still make sense.

complexities.

like a bee to honey.

i wrap myself around them.

like they keep an illusion around me.

an illusion of depth.

whereas,

lies in me a masked reality

denied so many times.

i keep doubting the presence of it.

the presence of the absence.

i say my life is not empty.

i say it is over-flowing.

i believe it.

but is this my one true belief.

or a self-inflicted one.

a choice i made just to be happier.

out of convenience.

but really deeply questioning myself.

i dont know why i think my life is great.

am i giving up.

am i slowly eroding.

and i think alot of myself.

narcissitic.

i cant get enough of myself.

and i want attention.

and i want to control people.

why?

i do things to get desired outcomes from people.

follow ur heart they say sometimes.

i dont have a heart.

i follow my sins.

my greed.

i torture people.

the ones in my head.

im scared to hurt people in real life.

i want to see them happy.

i want them far away from me.

and my evil intentions.

its something i fight everyday.

i do what i think is right.

but sometimes

i go against my very own principles.

this confuses me.

do i not like my principles?

then why do i make them my principles?

do i try too much not to fit in to my own boundaries.

that i run to and fro from one conclusion to another.

do i throw away all my life just for a moment of peace.

ants in my screen for real.

my life is a mess.

im buried.

deep in the chaos around me.

and im helpless against my own.

she needs to change.

something has to give.

and im afraid of a life without her.

the me i want to change.

and by change i mean get rid of.

will i still be me if i change.

will i still be me.

me.

i am.

confused.
Standing barefoot on cold floors, i watch the plant in the window as i swallow the white capsule whose job it is to terminate the throbbing in my membrane, and i am a spinning blur, and i am wondering can you hear the voices that are screaming out of me at this time.

at this moment, the rain has stopped and i am finished with my deed, the window looks like  soil with paint thrown into watery waves.
walking back to my territory, i drop on both knees, suddenly and face first i fall into the couches cushion. repeats: "take me out of here take me out of here take me out here." until my breaths gives up on playing dead, and my face is purple and red.
I stand on wobbly knees, face feeling like a Southern summer day, I am thinking of you  and I move on.
I know we won't last 'forever.'
one day I will die, one day you
will die

one perhaps significantly earlier
than the other.

maybe minds will change, plans
will change, places will change,
people will change, we will change

perhaps we will stay
perhaps we will go

**** if I know.

this, however, is okay.

I have never loved anyone
so much.

every moment with you is
a precious eternity
and it makes me glad
to know we sprout from the
same eternal source so
although I can and will
lose 'you'

I will never lose
you.

you.

*you.
Next page