A voice screamed, "Rayna! Rayna! Rayna!" Three times in a row. She didn't answer but I saw her Trembling, frightened,adjusting herself under the table Not to utter,any of a word. Her brother,folded her in his arms Told her to be calm And left her,searching for faces He might recognize in that maze. Their aunt said not to answer For any sound,if they were called Just to be quite like the very often Builded stairs,where intensions are to fall. Rayna is still cold,waiting for her brother to return But she might not know ever that He was hanged on that roof,where his foot was rolled Beaten up with scars,hardly any fault left to be sold She's now unaware with her hands On the ears,cuz she was told not to answer for any sound if they were called So she took her hearing on her little scared hands But the way was crossed for him,his voice was heard tough Now she might not know ever that He would not return for her to protect "Prison in its way,shhhhhhhhh!" Screamed his death. #poetry#life#inspiration#thoughts#diary
This is an apology To my fear Not caring about When it wasn't in need Standing still in the middle Of that busy afternoon road And getting back nausea Hands on my waist and covering That individual I cannot see. Heavy intensions not to crawl Again on my Granny's floor And make her watch me When she stays red On her bed, directing me towards The root Cuz she once said "child,be the only I couldn't carry on my shoulders" Heavy, strong,still. But I didn't know she would leave And I'll fall on her floor again making Her watch me crawl. Just in case if you don't know I must make you understand what's sweat in the sun's heat of winter Body in search of clue But mind of you. Three of lights in all and Still dark in my eyes when you fall For it and I adjust for my palpitations. Welcome back anxiety, you're friend;on the door. #diary
you have an old habit of sleeping off your misery, to pass it onto your future self coz you're too afraid to bear it alone. you forget its a measly temporary escape as anxiety keeps piling on while you're asleep and gets ready to welcome you with a crooked smile as soon as you've come out of it. as soon as you open your eyes, the concentrated anxiety shatters you with the force similar to a speeding truck thundering down an open highway 60 miles an hour. it annihilates every part of you until there's nothing left to see.
as you gain consciousness from that anxiety attack, you let out a sigh, dusting yourself off unaware of the destruction that's gonna follow through shortly. you pick up the torn pieces and start sewing yourself up in hopes of reconciliation but you're just preparing yourself for the next round. your head hurts from an unexpected sleep at an unearthly hour but not as much as your broken spirit which is dangling at the mercy of your dark thoughts. the last tiny amount of hope left in you is keeping the bones at place but every fiber of you aches for an escape from what it seems like an aoen of suffering.
after all this, you think sleeping it off was a really bad idea, since its gonna be a long night and it is waiting with a cleaver in its hands ready to cleave you in half as soon as you let out a silent cry.
as the night approaches, the pain begins to stretch, the night doesn't feel like a bringer of serenity when every atom of your body shivers inside out, yet some parts burn with the same intensity, youre amazed how that coexists in a damp place like your body. your palms are cold but not as cold as the left part of your chest. your head feels heavy but not as heavy as the anchor that rests on your heart. it keeps forcing out blood but the physical pain is just a fraction to what the mental suffering has got to offer.
the voices inside your head start to gather around in the back of your mind with sharp shanks in each of their hands, they are back from a break and they're craving a feast of your soul. someone might have tipped them off.
its you versus the voices, you might not walk out of it alive but youre looking forward to exactly that. you hope for an end to all of your misery coz the voices aren't gonna stop until they completely silence out the one voice that speaks in your favour.
Nowadays, You carry in your heart an eerie silence of the no man's land. Like a peace treaty yet to be signed, you search for warmth in the red creases of your wrinkled hands. And in each fold of my last poem, you trace the warmth, that you can't find in the curves of the women beside you in the bed.
You built a mansion. Yet in each sandcastle you build, you search for a home to keep you safe. (Nowadays, you smile a little too less)
In each street and alley, You search for a home with its windows open. Yet, you find a closed door instead, with a doormat reeking of war and death.
Nowadays, You carry in your heart an eerie silence of the no man's land. And like the peace treaty that searches for warmth in the cold graves, you search for me in the burried ashes of my incomplete poems.
//In each heart you break, you search for the familiar cracks of my heart, but you find closed rooms instead, with their cracked walls painted grey//
When the night seems a little longer, And the day, a few shades darker, and baby, you seem to reek of winter, just come and taste my breathe... for it will taste like you, warm and dreamy, with a hint of summer rain...
Tangled in the web of life's mist, Darling, if you seem lost a bit, come to me and feel my beating heart... and it will chant your name, for, I've kept you safe, in between my every heartbeat, and have carved your name there, with a 'FOREVER', beneath it.
But not in this kind of love. Not in the kind of love where the line between me and him, the line between my fears and his tears, becomes blurred.Where my scars and his smiles, my words and his rhymes, dance to the beats of his drums...
l question myself; when, where and how did I fall for him. I wonder if I just stumbled and he deluged me with his love? Perhaps I fell for him in between his little efforts to make me smile after I ruined a paper and his vain attempts at hiding his tears whenever we talk about being far...
He is not perfect. Nor is he the kind of guy I ever imagined myself falling for. He cries louder than a child, blushes redder than a bride and is afraid of sleeping alone at night. (Though he never admits that...)
But, I love him. I love him for each and every drop of tear he sheds for me, each and every joke he cracks for me and each and every poem he writes for me. I love him for each secret he tries to hide and love him a little more for every secret he fails to keep.
Yes, he is far from perfect...
But I hear his voice and love him for the emotions it beholds, I laugh at his jokes and love him for the fears they withhold, I read his poems and fall for the pauses between the lines, And, Love him a little more in the voids amidst his words..... (I have never been in love like this)