Yours, Truly disastrous.

Yours, Truly disastrous.

Sorry, there is nothing pure about the things we do.

You fight so hard, so much,

Not to be seen, loved or heard.

 

Then, someone looks at you differently,

And it’s fine.

To give it in, tear it down, stripping it all.

 

But,

 

Vulnerability makes you loose it like shit.

 

They say, “Give it to the fire.”

Your pride, guilt, lust, teeth and yourself………….

 

She spits fire as she gets close

My skin screams, ignites;

I feel the screech of fear and pleasure

 

I run away from fear.

I run back for pleasure.

Pushing up my toes,

Wanting more.

 

We work it out like sun and moon,

I only glow when I am reflecting off of you.

Or, at least we believed so.

 

Guess what! You should know about us more.

No, we shouldn’t.

Or maybe we should.

 

There are perfect graceless nights when you stay.

We suffer from amnesia,

Forget about the distance monster.

 

In the morning,

You go away because you need to.

And I understand because I have to.

 

There is nothing pure about any of this.

 

 

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Sorry, I was never born to drown.

 

We sit down to eat,

We have nothing to say

 

The breakfast gets as cold as our feelings.

 

Sorry, I was too busy seeing happy people on other table.

Sorry, I was too busy swallowing the big lump in my throat.

 

With that follows scream,

Screams that form words, “psychopath, sociopath and foul”

 

Then, you and I leave.

We return back,

Blame it to the long distance monster.

 

But What about the monsters we tuck under our beds?

Our tongues get tied up as we hide each other’s demons.

 

There was nothing pure about us.

We were together for a summer,

After that it was just 9 month’s long influence.

 

I wish it wasn’t influence

I wish it was love.

 

So, you came back

You are here now

I ask, “For how long?”

“Summer break!” she says

 

You are here now

And the perfect graceless nights are merely obligations.

 

We are nothing more than jewelries.

Easily worn and taken off.

 

Told us we were like sun and moon.

Every night I live and you die.

And it gets eclipsed when we meet.

 

You shouldn’t have trusted me.

You know how moon works,

It changes everyday.

so do I.

 

I know I tore you open with my ignorance

We both know we tried to feel anything at all.

We failed to recreate graceless nights similar to our remembrance.

 

I know it is gonna hurt.

So, I will run away first.

 

Soon enough,

Someone will love us.

But that someone isn’t us.

 

She wishes to never meet me, she knows.

I am falling back to the dark hole I came from

And I never felt this safe to curl up while expectation snows.

 

So, fuck you!

 

Dark hole was never a place.

Until I created it.

People call it being alone.

I call it “not drowning into someone else’s shit”

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Unquestionable answers

Unquestionable answers

Dear hope,

Why do I keep myself in delusion? Why am I letting you win over me?

I won’t deny the fact that you make me insanely happy even though you have constantly bruised me, tore me apart but at the end of the day I find myself standing by your side just for that one fleeting moment of ecstasy.

You say that your happiness is my happiness. But do I really believe in you? You always tend to be that optimistic ray of sunlight that can turn a deserted road into road side buffet party with two rainbows in the sky. You always manage to see the light that’s been trying so hard to be seen underneath all the darkness surrounds me.

So, you show me an open door; Put a band aid on my wound.                                                       Eventually, things just start to get a little bit better!

You slam the door on my face and the realization hits me hard that the band aid was never mine to stick with me.

It’s funny how people shatter our hopes and we shatter theirs in complete absence of our deepest consent. We all know the truth that it wasn’t done on purpose but the irony is, it hurts like it was.

Dear Hope, you are the work of exhaustion and I am just done with you. I have realized no matter how alone I am you just don’t care.

And Dear Hope, I really do hope that you won’t ask me to have faith because every time I do so I am dragged again back down to the point of zero. This crushes my heart by itself a little bit and I don’t how many pieces I have left.

So, I am not giving up on working on myself less lonely. It is something that I’ve always done and I will always do. But dear Hope don’t ask me to hold on to you because hope hurts and I don’t wanna hurt anymore.

Yours sincerely,

Padfoot!

 

“I’m giving it my all                                    

 But I’m not the guy you’re taking home          

                 I keep dancing on my own”