We’ve made this place of leaving—
a vault for the untended.
Emotions stack like unlabeled jars,
their contents thick with time,
sediments of grief,
crystals of joy unsavored.

Are we the living,
or the ones who forgot
to move their hands
in the rhythm of the world?
The air smells of waiting,
stale, heavy with pause.
We circle the same questions,
polishing them into mirrors
where our faces blur.

Inside us,
an atlas torn apart:
coastlines of longing,
islands of silence,
rivers carving paths we never took.
Each scar a road.
Each sigh a compass.
Yet the map to home
eludes us still.

We walk the perimeter of ourselves,
searching for the key we swallowed.
The treasures we hoard
are dust without light,
their worth unseen,
their meanings locked
in a language we once spoke
but let slip away.

What is this place?
A limbo where our shadows
mourn their bodies.
Here, even death hesitates,
unsure if it belongs.
And we, the keepers,
stand guard over
what we cannot name—
prisoners and sentinels both,
afraid to leave,
afraid to stay.

I am trapped,
Trapped in a delusion,
A mirage of what once was,
Where shadows dance in the corners,
And echoes of laughter fade into silence.

There is no one;
I am left alone,
A solitary figure in a landscape of memories,
The nights look haunted,
Cloaked in a shroud of darkness,
Whispering secrets of the unseen.

Day whispers a cry,
A cry of a dead man within my heart,
A heartbeat that falters,
Lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts,
I am a prisoner,
Who has done no crime,
Yet here I languish,
Bound by invisible chains.

I want to move,
But can’t feel my feet,
I want to talk,
But silence wraps around me,
I want to cry,
But has no reason
I want to laugh,
Laugh louder again!
Again no reason.

I am a ghost lost in my stories,
Where I am dead,
Yet still feel the pain,
The pain of my dreams,
And the people I left behind.

I want to return,
Return back to them,
But I’ve lost the way that takes me to them,
The path obscured by the fog of regret,
I am stuck,
Stuck in this dream,
A wisp of a thought,
A fleeting shadow.

I want someone to wake me up,
To pull me from this slumber,
I want to get out of the character,
Shed this skin that no longer fits,
I want to get out of the cell
Which has no wall,
A prison of my own making,
Where freedom is a whisper,
And hope flickers like a dying flame.

My chest is a drum, relentless and wild,
A furious rhythm, untamed, unstyled,
Each beat pounds harder, faster, loud,
Trapped in this storm, beneath its shroud.

I search for the cause, but answers evade,
Is it the stress from the choices I’ve made?
The work that piles, the dreams deferred,
Or unspoken fears, those thoughts unheard?

Affairs of the heart tug me both ways,
Promises tangled in shadowed haze,
Is it love that quickens this torrid pace,
Or fear of losing a fleeting embrace?

The future looms, uncertain, unclear,
Its whispers feed my quietest fears,
Am I walking a path that’s truly my own,
Or chasing shadows, endlessly thrown?

The coffee surges, a bitter ally,
Fuel for the sleepless nights gone awry,
Yet every sip brings a sharper sting,
Winding the gears, tightening the spring.

And then there are voices, harsh and unkind,
The toxic echoes that clutter my mind,
Their pressure a weight I can’t displace,
Adding to this frantic race.

I clutch my chest, will it to slow,
But the current runs deeper than I can know,
No breath can calm this raging tide,
No place to run, nowhere to hide.

Yet still, I seek the silence within,
A flicker of peace, where healing begins,
Though the source eludes, the fight is mine,
To reclaim this heart, to steady its time.

One breath, one moment, one step away,
From the tempest that grips me, this disarray,
I’ll find the stillness, I’ll break this chain,
And bring my heart back home again.

I tell myself, Not now, but soon,
As hours slip by and day turns to moon,
Each task a shadow, a whisper, a weight,
Pushed to the future, left for fate.

The list grows longer, a towering spire,
Each undone deed fuels the fire,
A creeping pressure, a heavy chain,
The echoes of time call out my name.

One more scroll, I plead, I stall,
As unfinished work begins to sprawl,
The walls close in, the air turns tight,
Procrastination steals my fight.

I see the path I should have tread,
The steps unwalked, the words unsaid,
Yet here I sit, in stillness bound,
With every choice, I lose more ground.

The weight of delay becomes my cage,
A storm of regret, a quiet rage,
Trapped in a cycle, I fight to break free,
But the grip of avoidance clings to me.

Still, I rise with a trembling start,
A small rebellion, a beating heart,
One task, one step, one fleeting win,
A crack of light lets hope begin.

For though the mountain looms ahead,
And doubts still whisper in my head,
Each effort, no matter how slight or small,
Chips at the fortress, crumbles the wall.

Procrastination, you won’t define,
The rhythm, the purpose, the life that’s mine,
I’ll fight your hold, though the battle is long,
With steady resolve, I’ll grow strong.

I am comfortable inside my head,
invisible borders,
self-imposed rules.

They keep me safe.
An illusion of security.

But when the walls
inevitably
close in on me,
there’s nowhere to run.

Trapped inside this fragile paper cage.
Nothing keeps me in,
yet everything does.

I'm lost in the depths of my own mind,

suffocating under the weight of my thoughts.

Reality is distorted,

truth and lies are intertwined.

Every moment feels like a ticking time bomb,

waiting to unleash its destruction.

I'm paralyzed by the fear of being hurt again.

You're a potential threat,

a risk I'm not willing to take.

I scrutinize your every move,

waiting for the inevitable mistake.

But beneath this façade of self preservation,

a voice whispers the painful truth:

I'm the one who's broken, I'm the one who's afraid.

The ghosts of the past still haunt me,

their echoes reverberating through my soul.

I'm trapped in this cycle of fear,

pushing away anyone who dares to get close.

I'm convinced I'm better off alone,

safe behind the walls I've built.

Yet, in this isolation,

I'm drowning in my own despair,

longing for connection,

but terrified of the vulnerability it requires.

This self imposed exile is a double edged sword.

It protects me from the pain of rejection,

but also denies me the warmth of human connection.

I'm a master of deflection,

disguising my fear as indifference.

I'll push you away, test your resolve,

and measure your love by the distance

you're willing to travel.

But what if you stay?

What if you see beyond the armor I've crafted,

beyond the scars and the fears?

What if you touch the fragile heart beating beneath?

The thought sends shivers down my spine.

For vulnerability is a risk I've never been willing to take.

Yet, the possibility tantalizes me,

It's like a siren's call to the depths of my soul.

In this tug of war between heart and head,

I'm torn asunder.

And a part of me yearns to surrender,

to let go of the controls and freefall into the unknown.

Another part clings to the familiar,

the comfort of solitude, the certainty of pain.

And so I hover,

suspended between two worlds,

unsure which path to choose.

For the silence in here is deafening,

mirroring a reflection of the war raging within me.

Mirror mirror
On the wall,
Who’s the most shattered
of them all?
Aligned with the cracked glass,
I feel broken.
Each scar of self-harm
Leads to a line of tokens—
Every scratch and crack in the mirror
Is a symbol of self hate
that plagues my heart.
Soon to fall apart
And rot in the mirror…

Mirror mirror
On the wall,
Who’s the most fallen of them all?
Hidden and forgotten
in the dust of cobwebs
In your attic.
I ask for help,
But aligned with the smashed glass,
I feel stolen and trapped
Under the illusion of no hope—
Bruised and abused.
Left in confusion,
Losing people like flies,
Leaving shattered moments
in pieces scattered across the floor,
Only then I feel heartbroken.

Mirror mirror
On the wall,
What have I done wrong
To become aligned with
This broken mirror?

Mind so blank like clean white sheet
Hard to start with, so troublesome

Though I look around for inspirations
Yet blank it is! Road block Road block
Yes it is a Dead end!

I felt so trapped
Can't think of anything
that could inspire!

How should I bounce back
Being lively!
Spontaneous!
Energised!

So that I could read out my mind!
Speak my heart out!