If to live a fairytale life is to
wait for your Prince
to rescue you from the tower
while you lend him your hair,
be recognised by the shoe that fits you,
or be kissed to life,
then I'm better off living a nightmare
where I am my own tormentor ~ and saviour.

We got lost, somewhere​.
N​ow, even the sun rays
feel​ cold over my skin,

and snow leaves
warm trails...
I am burning;

a mere residue
of your love.

Sometimes,
words are weightless
and hearts are numb.
And all the music in the world
fails to tune out everything.

Distinguishing noises
from properly thought-out
sentences becomes a task,
and drowning them all in a
cavern full of pooled out
emotions, just another hobby.

While stars dance
to a tuneless melody
in synchronized motions
to the buzzing in the heads,

we catch feelings
like fever ...

where do we find
ourselves

in museums of thoughts,
where each thread dances
on its own and our fingers,

outstretched, trying
to grab a single one...
processing.

where do we find
ourselves

perhaps,
in hidden sheds
or tangible shreds,
deemed or bound
to be doomed.

In between mid nights
washed with moon light,
I wondered then,
if sadness can be alluring.

But we are fooled,
and there's nothing left,
or at least nothing,
of importance, except

half- dreamed hallucinations
and broken wings,
while sadness lingers
upon her eye lids...

Sometimes,
Emotions take up the role
of a backseat driver
while Logic drives drunk,
ready to crash...

Of all the secrets,
you are the one
I would have exposed,
shamelessly ...