A song to feel

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I met a boy one night,
Little rough around the edges,
Falling at times, stiff otherwise,
While trying with all his might
To climb up the stairs,
He dreamt to lay down for himself.
He broke it down to me,
That nights could be beautiful,
If you let them sink into
The company of whole of your mind
With the half of something else.
Knowing someone needs your thought
To fall asleep, could be a lullaby.
It’s not for the touches,
But I would have loved him if I could.
I stayed with him till morning rose
Noticing the egdes melt,
It’s beautiful when the words snow.
It’s warm if someone let’s you in.
I would have loved him if I could,
For he sang me a song,
I could feel.

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Confessions of a depressed.

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Last night felt like fiddling with the stove.
So cooked up a meal for two to myself.
But ended up taking those pills instead,
Two in a row, the meal covered alone.
They say I am a chronic, but i feel
The grief always acute, see it everytime,
The same pangs, the same endings.
No matter where the beginning ,even
When it starts at the end and extrapolates.
End of conversation I guess, is way fatal,
Than none of it. There’s a certain scare,
Of getting frozen. Of who will freeze first.
Always a race to the end of it to imagine
The fall ; be pushed or even worse –
Slip by self. Thus, I withdraw beforehand.
They will say I go out of sorts at times,
But its the tendency to overthink-
To find reasons for the lack of sleep,
Every other irrelevance included.
So I fiddle way past midnight
To find reasons
To take those pills instead.

 

 

 

 

Falling out

screenshot_2017-09-19-16-35-43-289_com-instagram-android.pngDon’t you feel often?
My breath against your face?
Then ,why is it that each time
I kiss you unaware,
You taste of wax.
You melt into me, I agree,
But you don’t burn.
You lay on my arms
Crooning, to discover
The sparkle of love.
Did I steal away from you,
The joy of recklessness?
Tell me what does lust sound like,
The thrill of romancing a bad boy?
Or the coziness of a good girl’s faith?
Tell me, what made you this lax,
The lack of insecurities?
Or your gradually
Falling out of it?

 

What is it that you want.

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The mellow glow by the lamp post ,
Is going dull.
The place where I stand every evening,
Before I run to the supposed fire of my life,
Is burning out, night after night.
Is it because I am too engrossed
That I never noticed it before?
Or is it because I’m lost?
..Into the cranking of wheels,
Between the squabbling of meals.
Into a word called love,
Am I trapped?
I am already knee deep into life,
I know, but are my hands muddied too?
I look up, I see the darkness and clouds.
The moon washed and faded a long ago,
Tired of shining with a sheen borrowed
Upon the same, scarred face.
Never showing the side we don’t know.
I take the time now, I see the moon ,
I see the lamp post, I see me.
I look down at my feet that
Already started growing roots,
Longer than the shadows
From the dimmer light overhead ,
And in my mind I hear it ringing,
Is this all that you need?
What is it that you want?
What is it that you want?

 

The Other Side

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Am i numb enough suitably ?
So as to not feel, just smile.
Through a sea I found a shore,
Now I nurture a fear of it,
Collapsing.

As learnt from trails of bygones.
Words will exhaust eventually,
The sea will bare to its core,
And bleed to the beats of grief.

So be numb enough not to shed.
Let this remain a mere shore,
Nothing more or less in disguise.
Let it not meet,
The other side.

Rendezvous

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You called to say
You are doing just fine,
The world has not been as cruel,
As i was.
It unfolded in a million ways,
You see. But I,
I stand here still
Choking on my own words
And a longing
You couldn’t fulfill either,
Walking alone would lead
To dead bridges
And broken dreams,
A beautiful rendezvous,
If we wait for it.
At that point, if you’d ask me,
How have you been. I’d say,
I have been brave enough
To save the world,
But not myself,
Not myself yet.

Breached

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Today, once more, parameters
Have been breached.
Eyes welled.
Showers, fallen.

That lane whose front door
Received no knocks
Ages since now,
Flooded. Spaces taken.

Memories mattered not much.
Kept locked away
Safe in a closet.
Roam free, erratic.

That bird once free.
Seen the world,
Came back again.
Wings broken, pathetic.

Sleep, a long lost friend
Happiness, a mistress.
There. Not there.
Aftermath, of depravity.

These pages with
Lines blurred , read
Our story incomplete.
Immortal, in it’s brevity.

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