Sounds,
Created by ‘disturbances’, Carried by ‘environment’...
Flow into my body from the outside world,
Flow out of my body to the outside world,
But some remain trapped…
In a cage.
An eternal cage, where it keeps on ‘reflecting’,
Some people notice it…
They say it ‘echo’,
But such people are very less,
In Fact, I haven’t met such a person in my life.
It seems people don’t want to notice it…
It reminds them,
Of their ‘echos’,
Making noise deep inside their voids,
Imperceptibly loud,
Unavoidably incessant,
With every reflection,
Enlarging the void they are trapped in
Waiting for,
‘Resonance’,
Powerful enough,
To the shatter the ‘tower’,
they are standing on.
Sounds,
Created by ‘disturbances’, Carried by ‘environment’,
Seemingly irreverent,
***** the ‘relevance’,
Leaving behind just…
Voids!

Bestie:I loved you more than she ever could.I cared for you more than she ever did.I priortised you more than anyone in my life.Yet You chose her over me everytime.Why? why?Do you Ignore me the same way she ignored you?
Me:Dear bestie,its not like i am ignoring you the same way she did, I can never let her place be filled by someone else.I loved her and i always will Love her the way she deserves to be whether or not she loves me back.

catastrophe
                      and misery
a pure soul shrouded in secrecy mystery
more unexplored than vast cosmic voids
half a lover
                     half a paranoid

i liked the way you made me feel
until you didn't make me feel that way anymore
so i let you go
but was that the right thing to do?
i have a void, that i've been trying to fill
ever so carelessly
drugs, ***, rock'n'roll
i've lost control
hell, i don't want to be in control
i want others to control me
i want someone to constantly be there and reassure me
but everyone leaves or i push them away
and i'm left with the biggest hole of agony inside
that can never be filled...
love is conditional.
love is stupid and blind and erratic and irrational.
love cares for no one.
so maybe it's not love i'm looking for?
maybe it's to erase the past
but time is a cruel thief.
time is selfish and careless.
and we waste him so he wastes us.
i am wasted.
no, not drunk.
but rather a ship, wasted at sea.
stuck in the sand of the past.
with this hole of agony... filling up with unwanted things.

Echo, cricket,
Thump, stump.
The very loud things
Galloping through the silence.
The creaking of stairs like the breaking of bones
That snapped tin cap,
Clinging onto the prophesied labor of your last breath,
Oscillating through your liquefied ontology.
Ethanol overflown and embodied.

Cricket cricket,
The underlying intrinsic.
The empty tone of a distant voice.
The spaces of letters and words so magnified
So wide,
Expanding like an unstoppable void.
Oh my,
Here it comes,
Shadowed by your hissing tongue.
You are glittered,
Pinnacle bitter.
Cloaked in pure white.
Not a thread of disguise.
Twinkle, twinkle,
Buggy, rugged eye.
Those razor touched lines,
Translucent and caressed,
Reminiscent and enmeshed,
Like faded pale stripes,
Hugging the armor of canvas flesh.
Walking among these thin lines,
Head down, musky powdered stench,
Awaiting the inevitable rise and fall.
Of the intangible crux of a hollow memory,
Woven inside the synthetic fabric of the undelivered.
Oceanic cold shiver,
Piercing through our empty, untethered souls.

We all sat and pondered over the strange
phenomena of the world we live in,
like the fact that the moon sleeps upon
the surface of the earth each night,
but never returns to the same dwelling twice.

We asked the stars why they continue
to shine, even years after they've died,
and we wait in silence for their coveted
response, only to be let down once again.

What is a conversation without listening,
but waiting in line for your time to talk,
only to an audience involved in their next
comment. Leaving messages.

You only call me when it's raining out.
And I only answer when it's 2am.
And it's all good and fine in day dreams,
because we know the right things to say
and the right ways to respond, when
it's all in our heads.

But that's not how the world works,
so we stub on tongues on thoughtless
comments, as we fill the voids around us
with butchered "I love yous" and cold nights
back to back.