People tell me I'm a pretty girl.
But when I look in the mirror, all I see is pain.
I see the emotional scars and sleepless nights.
I think of all the times I've cried myself to sleep.
Every day I get out of bed and question what I have to live for.

Anxiety is my uneasy laughter.
Depression seeps through my fake smiles.
Hollowness lives in the bags under my eyes.

Today, I look in the mirror and tell myself that I am living for me.
I am living for you and the thought of helping others.
I hope one day to see my own beauty and have love for myself.
I hope one day you see that you are more than what others say.

it lurks in the shadows
and it surrounds the cosmos
it devours light
and it turns fortune into plight
it inspires you
when the world despises you
it reveals to you
what the light conceals from you
it fills the hollowness in your heart
it keeps you mortal when you are falling apart
it is found in the murky depths of your soul
emanates when you are losing control
what is it you ask ?
it is time I unravel my mask

A ghost in a machine
A distant heartbeat
A wretched reflection
In the graveyard of affection
Voices repeated but barely heard
Screams so loud yet unheard
A naked soul encased within the ground
Feasted on by this hell hound
Bound to forever remain unfound

Looking for it I ran,
Here and there to find,
The lost one, that only could
Make my mind go blind.

In empty bottles I searched,
To find nothing but air,
My heart was lost somewhere,
And the world didn't care.

Tired, sad and broken apart,
I finally found that place,
Where I was sure to find,
My heart in any case.

Reached there and found a jar,
And gladly I was running about
Happily, I opened it,
And only RED liquid came out...

Dear Self,
It's a lot lonelier at night.
It's a nightmare ready to unfold and I'm gripping my bed sheets hoping I don't wake up in yet another cold sweat.
The void in my chest seems to grow as I look for something that makes sense.
The words used to hold me as I wept and now,
They stand at arms length and allow me to hold myself.
They watch as the tears fall across my cheeks and they question how much sadness can a person hold.
How much sadness until all you feel is nothing, but hollowness.
Hollowness that resembles a field of grass burned to ash.

She lay awake for the better part of an hour.
The light streaming through half drawn blinds.
She did not cry, because there was nothing to cry about.
She did not smile, for she felt no joy.

Maybe it was talent, or maybe it was just that she'd been doing this alot lately.

When she thought about nothing and everything,
Simultaneously first, then at the same time.
So sporadic her thoughts became,
The idea of insanity was ingrained.

She had a father, a mother and a lover who cared.
She did not understand the reason of her despair.

She reminisces of old days, days face with enthusiasm and vigour.
She wonders what changed, what makes her want to pull a trigger.


She thinks about what's wrong and how it came to be so.
The questions have always been easy.
If only, the answers were so nice to her.

There is no sorrow to feel, no happiness to be glad.
There is only emptiness and desolation.
There is only detachment and isolation.

Its funny. Its downright hilarious.
People with tough lives achieve greatness.
While the mediocre lives stay bare and dead.
She lay there for the better part of an hour.
Dreading what lay ahead.