Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
幽玄 Jul 2018
Today or should I say what was left of yesterday, the most important time during the day when the moon is in a modestly transient display, I would consider taking my life. It is early evening, I couldn’t hold onto what I thought I could live for, giving into intolerance too easily, was like life for me was cracking in two and I was unable to cause cohesion for the diverging halves. only the effect remains unhinged and hidden inside me, without notice I go on missing from society. I’ve deteriorated greatly over the past few months which felt to me like decades in a room resembling winter. I often open the window only to my dismay that the air out is uncomfortably thick and moist, enough to suffocate my concentration for concern to what lies around instead I retract into this niche I resent completely spectating this limited view found underneath monochromatic inverted shades, for something that might not be much greater than I had wished it to be, I let these ideals of mine run wild in an attempt to let them be real momentarily, to burn out eventually unseen. Nothing should be able to live in such a way, I’m as stagnant as the trees that lie ahead near the streets. They witness every passerby freely sauntering trails laid out for the day, perhaps they, these beings, take it for granted not giving much attention to anything else besides the very goal that keeps them afloat and moving toward for execution to whatever it is they have their minds eye simply on. I’ve known all too well that it is pointless to do the same, I can’t squander what I have right in front of me over a simple goal, although I might not live in life’s given moments pleading for the very attention I sometimes don’t give in to, nothing ever goes unnoticed, these impressions are all that I could ever ask for, the smallest of gifts for me to cherish. Anyways I was only wondering my sight around outside looking for a movement I could possibly run to for help, giving my ears away for barber’s melody to play out loud. Nothing more showed up, only a bitter heat wave, the trees left unshaken from vacant winds. Washing over me was the penetrative structure I felt his sorrowful life flash ahead of me wondering how misunderstood he must’ve felt in such a time where everything was unrightfully wasted from a society that never knew how normalized repression began to feel, so they went about it by going along with the feel other than freely being expressive about internal conflicting issues. Maybe to one or none at all. He deserved better as did all the others. Maybe I’m wrong and only being reflective of myself. For what reason I don’t know. I was telling myself on the car ride somewhere else that I won’t disclose, for it doesn’t matter. I imagined everything I was to do, or should I say that I was accepting of what was to come next reciting in my head that all the dreaming and envisioning I had done up to this point was my life possibly lived, the love I couldn’t help to resist myself from attaining, the opportunity to save the world from collision from and through a great work that could possibly impregnate every sensible mind with a broad spectrum of what an extra day of the week might feel like, more time to spend freely from life’s never ending demand of what is to be expected by and from each and every one of you. I daydreamed of everything I missed during my lifetime so far, I should’ve traveled but didn’t, I’m not filled with fear but that of insecurity always wins the day. I slipped on by to memories that never had the chance to be made, only the threading lies there on a timeless lot gravitating toward evaporation. I left no more hope for myself because I’ve chosen to give it to the others who could actually implement change, those of whom I know I can entrust the life that I wasn’t living to. I made a choice, to disperse this existing body from and to a place where time is stilted upon my departure outside the fields wherever that may be, music guiding me out of the overriding blur beyond the wilt— my memory subsided inside this symphony somewhere that is made up of very early mornings and the light that follows afterward, kindly implying, that maybe, they never existed. I’m without anymore words, Thank you
I’ve decided to lay this one out exactly how I intended it to look; in its most free format, untouched from editing. maybe to expose the half crumbled city that lies in the way.  

I have this thing to get carried away into needless thoughts. 4 am is the time when self-reflecting occurs.

It goes deeper than all this, this is but a simple opening to more uncovered doors.

0202, is when I will be leaving
blackbox Jun 2014
There are times, when you want to cut-off from the world.
And there are times, when no one's around you to hold.

There are times, when you've a lot to say but words fall short.
And there are times, when you've nothing at all but you still have to talk.

There are times, when you're strong enough but too scared to fight.
And there are times, when you're weak but you do what's right.

There are times, when you feel like crying but tears don't fall off your eyes,
And there are times, when you're happy but can't laugh as a friend next to you cries.

There are times, when you don't want to reveal the secrets buried in your heart,
And there are times, when you want to share but nobody's close enough to be a part.

All I want to say is, I could have lived through all those times,
If you had just said, "I'm with you sweetheart, so everything's gonna be fine".
Tanay Sengupta Aug 2018
Everything is falling apart,
It is too late to see.
No one is left to trust.

Crumbling into ashes and dust,
Lost in a meaningless sea.
Everything is falling apart.

Turn away if you must,
But it is too late flee.
No one is left to trust.

Fight for a fresh start,
If you are too blind to see.
Everything is falling apart.

Escapism is an art,
The world is too chaotic to me.
No one is left to trust.

Moisty eyes and a broken heart,
All I wish is to be free.
Everything is falling apart.
No one is left to trust.















Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
Just a thought that I wanted to convey via words. Hope you like it. Happy reading!
Xaela San Oct 2018
Like a foggy road

I can't see what's ahead

Only a sense of dread

In this quiet madness

Still keeps me walking

Without any sense of direction

Wondering if I can escape

This chaotic mind of mine.
Pylyp Apr 2
Drink from the cup of despair
Sweet relief
The respite
Though compared to a usual blanket of compliments
Passed at the table
The cloth
Soaked with lies
Stripped of everything once clear to creep up behind
Turned around once again
Just a tad
To the left or the right
Just to prove we avoided disaster despite many nights
Sleepless
Conscious of whirlpools drowning the pieces inside
Left to rot just beneath
The swirling surface
Forgotten
Abandoned
Left off to the side
For the demons to feed on the one thousandths time
Only one place to hide now
Concerning it might have been foolish to think
That tonight could be different
Yet what kind of idiots are we
But instruments left by our hollowed out shells
Seeking shelter from frightening parts of our lives
Left to deal
Regardless of our consent in this fight
With our selves
For a trophy more meaningless than our will
While our ego grabs hold
And manipulates sense of direction
To steer us to ****
Crown Shyness Dec 2018
All about fluidly traversing borders
and resisting orders of aliens.

All we are and all I am
is just a scam
while we run into the mayhem
of being distanced
to the point
of executing melting
in the moment of hanging
far from the ground.


But there's a sound somewhere
and sometimes it is hard to locate
but there's another one
in a state
that needs you
to just fall
into her or his arms

and even if it feels like it,
he or she or something in-between
means no harm,
only love.


Kiss,
kiss
in bliss
of what you really miss,
it is
not alone.
ThePoet Apr 2016
Rushing ecstasy
Intensive flow
Rising high
Crashing low
Raging apathy
Falling apart
Chaotic outbreak
Back to the start

© Sarah Ahmed (ThePoet)
Cycle
Baqir Talpur Nov 2018
Outlaws in Love

You, a chaotic beauty,
Shootin' smiles from distance.
A dangerous puzzle -
Lost, with in your own existence.

Me, a haywire mess,
Trying to make sense of things.
Willing to be by your side;
In summers, winters, falls and springs.

We, a crazy hybird of chaos and peril.
Ready, to have a crazy ride.
Ready, to be the outlaws in love,
Like Bonnie and Clyde.
To Bonnie parker, A poetess and an outlaw and to clyde barrow, a lover and a bandit.
Travis Green Dec 2018
I can feel the static electricity surging
through my veins, raging slashed
voltages running rampant, destructive
beats blazing my escape, dazed and
flayed, crammed thoughts pounding
inside my domain like crazed chaotic
drums.  The world around me is
spinning frantically in scorched
dungeons, savage city slums,
slumped bridges and crumbling
labyrinths, a ravage wrecked
landscape sinking inside a
crimson drenched death, a
splintering tornado unleashing
a gut-wrenching sound of havoc.
Ceida Uilyc Dec 2018
With dangling shrubs for hair

Pivoting like a vulture
gleaming smiles
You skunk,

Tainting my heart with sweet nuthings,
Blowing my fears into teary inflatables.

It didn't grow,
Because it had to burst.

It burst again
And blend into muck.

I moan the past.

Those goggles
I crave
Your Soda Glasses
I raved

So
I can
Swim again
In the murky depths of our
chaotic evil

past.
Might I be a bit too cold-hearted right now,
maybe a bit confused, lost and wandering...
I mean, decadence is definitely not easy,
face after face changes, nothing is still.

Who am I? Who are you?
I don't know and I don't care,
maybe I do, but it's inaudible...

Drifting, falling, drowning, fading,
waning, losing, slipping, laughing...?

I don't make sense,
I mean, I tried, but it all falls apart...

The chaos in my veins,
Rings loud in my ears,
Sinks numb into my brain,
Wrenches my heart with fear.

Too silent, too loud...
There's nothing that I can visualize.
Me? Who I am?
You? Who are you?
Place? To call home? My own??

Escape?
Who's the one that laughs so near?

©outcastdreamer
2016 was last when  I posted, but not the last when I wrote.
2019 has been a ****** start. Maybe that's why I am back.
Why did I ever leave?
*sigh*
Lady Narnia May 2016
Oh, how dark our history is
You, my author of misery and pain
With fingers set to scribble my demise
This is our story, writ with chaotic pen

One that left calamity in its wake

You would always start the chapter
Every page inked with words of black
On the point of a pen, you'd viciously write
Using the sharp edge to stab into my being

Scripting, deeply, my eternal damnation

You erased my name and made me delusional
Always forcing me to your divine will
For the pen, always mightier than the sword
Was kept toward the edge of my neck

Swearing to strike at any given moment

Always determined, I'd end our sentences
Fighting to gain balance and bear the final period
Yet it was not without consequences
For you and I were wrought with scars

Etched into the bottom of our hearts, a burning black

If only these words painted a happy picture
But the thousand only paint a picture of pain
A dreary battle between two broken forces
On timeworn pages, brittle-ing on and on

Begging for the piece that holds our final chapter

And that chapter swiftly came for I was the ending
Leaving in the night, gone without a trace
With no words or ink left as a guiding clue
Carefully escaping from your paper prison

Free from the agony of the writer's press

On that day, I began my life again
Starting a happy story; free, original, and new
A home of letters filled with love, life, and joy
Where I'd never dare see you again, my dear, dear author

And never bleed black from your miserable weapon
D Awanis Dec 2016
Nostalgia is a beautiful phenomenon
It's when life seemingly happier,
more adventurous, and less chaotic

People frequently romanticize and misplaced it
As a neverland, wonderland, you name it
More often than not, they think it's all they have left

As I grow older, I can see those fragment of memories
Vividly, so crystal clear that it almost feels real
But baby, nostalgia is a psychological illusion

So, come to your senses now
Recall this as a mantra
Breathe in, breathe out

He's not a history—he's a tragedy
As I walk,
one foot in front of the other,
I can't help but feel as though
I am in a chaotic paradise.
Lay no blame at her feet,
she of victory, torch of light.

Lay no blame at her feet,
an eagle soaring, trade her might!

Lay no blame at her feet,
for chaotic nations, destitute and plight.

Lay no blame at her feet,
the wicked crowned, wealth takes flight.

Lay no blame at her feet,
her majesty waning, her people benight.

Lay no blame at her feet,
'Taker of Blood;' red, blue, white.
ryn Aug 2014
Standing at my window with an aching in my chest
Looking out the window as the rain poured down
Pondering hard if I could withstand this test
Fixed in a lost gaze; in tearful helplessness I drown.

The raindrops burst as they fall and hit the ground
Into a million droplets merging back into a puddle
Like muffled drumming, chaotic yet calming is the sound
Spellbound by it's sight, so beautiful...so subtle.

My eyes grow weary but still I wish to witness
These glassy beads falling enchantingly from the sky
Hoping it'll wash away the miss and all of it's madness
Felt the moist in the wind as it kissed my cheeks dry.

This magic before me, I can stare upon all night
For I love it so, it brings the solace I so have craved
Much like my love, I'd gaze upon her till the break of light
Wishing I could tell her of the love I've saved...
Persuasive notions locked away,
in many minds that go astray;
When working along cryptic lines,
which falter during chaotic times.

While hidden in a separate space,
these musings tend to be erased;
Forgotten now in empty spheres,
dissolve as echoes of chronic fears.

Perhaps society has been foretold,
of magic tales so brave and bold;
Yet through the mastery of lies,
they disappear before our eyes.

Inside the quaintly shuttered room,
the words seem subtle but still in tune;
When wanton tales aroused before,
a complex world of closing doors.
zebra Dec 2018
i like it ickity split
mad to exceed the world
in dark dreams ******

to evoke blood wet mouths
insertions paradise of fluorescents
in a dark aperture

her pudenda
a rolling hill
gaudy wound like a smash mouth crying
split torn tearing, pink estuary
for gluttonies' joyride
that can hardly be endured
twisted tongue spice melts and glitters raw

the sheets soaked through
matted hair in saliva
blood and eggs
the screams of monsters rapture

oh feral abandon
every thing else a toil

winged *******
**** toys for mama
like heaven cant know

his *****
like hanging bats

Nagasaki goes off in her ***
bodies; quake in silence
the bedroom; a chaotic bathroom
tulips shrill flutter
gulp and swallow milks flame
rosy welts laughing
flushing ******'s

shoved urns
all spilled libations
touching and *******
crimson **** runnels
in bathhouse foam
down the drain
to earthen bowels din
where the dead push up daisies

i am the worm in the fruit
Sunflower Girl Mar 2016
Every* place you look becomes bright
Shade and color enveloped in your soul
Of light, of dark, of chaotic serenity
You irrefutably remain
Is there any thing more
*Beautiful
white silver bullets
barrage the trees and the roof
in chaotic sound
despite our defense constructs
it always ends to the ground
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018


The Dame stands before me,
droplets of sorrow falling
from her eyes

A sad, vulnerable beauty...

But little did I know that she
was a delicate calamity

whose body is made from
screams of the howling
oceans

A false crown made from
a long dead sun

Eyes as cool and cold
and cunning as a viper

And a heart long since
barren


Thank goodness I've cut out such people from my life....
Lyn x
Next page