Shhhhh...
I'm slowly losing my mind
I think I am
The voices they say it's fine
But I dont feel like I am

I can feel it
The curse striking back
The curse of the loveless
The curse of loneliness

Each time I break down
Each time I add another mark
Each time I feel pain
Each time I feel death calling me

I start believing in the voices
The ones that say I'm worthless
The ones that say It wont be better
The ones that say I'm not enough

Cause they're right
I don't know when will be the last time
I write something
I think It'll be soon now

As I feel like I'm close
Close to breaking down
Close to doing it
Close to entering my final breath

Soon I shall utter my final words
Not now
Soon
I'll be a memory

Not a good one to most people
And forgotten by the rest

Just after midnight
The first hour strikes.
A shiver in the dark.
Blood runs still in the soul.

The clock jerks forward
Like the knife in the
Killer’s hands.
Unsteady.

There goes the chime
The third hour comes.
The clutching of rigid fists.
Immobile, yet feverish.

Then comes the wicked crimes.
A banging on the wall, silently sharp.
No one notices a thing.
Just a lonely person berating walls

A tear drips
From the soul of the weeper.
The hours that struck
They took the night deeper.

A splitting cry worse
Than the
Hummingbird’s flapping wings. Silence in the night
The clock had struck
Eleven.
Aid was never
Given.

Time was lost track of.
Chime after chime faded into sound sleep.
The thirteenth hour was called.
Could anyone do a thing?

The pleas were never answered. Because they
Were never
Called.
The fourteenth hour has arisen.
The other hours faded in comparison.

In the beginning, there was skin
fresh, soft, unblemished, unnamed
bound to be clad by blooming blue rose
baby bud bearing but thorns in its heart
Drifting along to kiss every inch
of that ****** beauty with grace
And there came the first scratch
Thirteen drops of blood
A drop of tear
And a full stop!
Congealed blood! Evaporated tear!
In the beginning there was no scar
but a tender rose to teach pain
pain with all its notoriety
and calamitious cloud of nothingness.
scars tiptoed towards the chest of skin
Now nourishing, naming each narrow path
No blood, no tear.
Thus, as a woman's womb gives birth
to hold up this tipsy life,
pain is a must.

he is
Mr. Perfect
and i’m a perfect
*** to have ever, for
even a moment, believed
we could even resemble a
real couple, in real love,
like such a thing exists
beyond media-fed
fantasies.

he says
he loves me
and he’d never lie
to me, not on purpose.
but would he love me if
he knew my secrets? i go
from Chopin giggles to
a Chopin breakdown,
steeped in Chopin
teardrops

Here we are living in a beautiful world.
Completely satisfied.
We thought that this place is enough.
But what if you open those eyes?

The world isn't as beautiful,
As what we see
The people weren't as honest,
As what we believed they were

You weren't as bad
As you thought you are.
And the same goes...
To the ones who think they're better.

We love people recklessly.
And we always think,
They're the ones for us.
And you're the one for them.

We hate people so much.
And it's all because they are different.
And that they're not perfect.
That's the truth.

If you open those eyes,
They're not wrong,
And the ones you loved the most,
They're not for you.

If you think you are stupid,
For not realizing the ugliness of the world,
Don't worry,
All of us didn't realized it as well.

The truth is now revealed.
There is chaos behind love,
Hatred behind friendship.
And anxieties behind laughters

You lived in a place full of lies,
And I know you wished you never should've opened those eyes.
So you can stay blind from the truth.
And never get disappointed.