Category: self-hate

pause.

Your song is a choir of rushed strokes of black hollow paint on a white anxious canvas dangling free. Free. From a lone nail on a brick wall standing old behind the house of your dreams. You bury the dead behind it. They rise up as demons on starry nights and throw an embrace around your weary tense bruised neck. You love them. They … Read More pause.

Burns and Ashes

Black and burnt hearts fall down to ashes when you aim at them with the cupid’s arrow. If that doesn’t scare you enough against love stories gone rogue, then you may want to grab a glimpse of the poison spat rose pressed in the old and worn pages of a happy love story. Heartbreaks are like untimely deaths, and the tears that follow are … Read More Burns and Ashes

When Jasmines begin to smell like Lavenders!

Love stories! They are like broken glass beads thrown ashore to the dead sea! You, as a lone bystander, may happen to step upon the sharp ones every other fortnight! Then, you may bleed a little and your lips may sin to mumble a soft curse at their beauty. When that happens… don’t fret away from taking another step! In every love story, there … Read More When Jasmines begin to smell like Lavenders!

Abyss

Have you ever stared down the demonic depths of a dingy abyss? Or Have you ever felt that sudden urge to resign…when those dark eyes of lucid heights call you? If not… then allow my words, To take you, Through the tranquilizing horror, And the anxiety-ridden silence, Of that moment. That moment when life knocks you down, You hit your head on the cold … Read More Abyss

Dawn

The night smothered you, With the smoke that rose above, The burnt remains Of your tender heart. Now… Now, your lungs ache, Your guts lie, Tied in knots, Churning, Wringing your life out of you. Coiled like a foetus, Drenched in tears, Is that you? Who carved these scars Deep… in the tenders of your skin. Is that a memoir To your unworthy sin? … Read More Dawn

Ghosts…

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Yeah… They live in my closet, And yours too, Don’t they?   There are nights, when I wake up, Lying in this pool of sweat, Or… is that blood? I never chose to know…   Those eerie nights, I hear then growl, Or… is that, their kind of a scream? I never chose to know..   They must stare … Read More Ghosts…

The battle…

It was a dark and lonely night. The sky would have been a vision to behold with all the lovely stars, and a bright full moon…. if…. only if, it wasn’t bequeathed with an awning of heavy storm-ridden clouds. The air was taught… It prophesied a demonic storm. There I was, beside the lake… kneeling down. My arm bled…body covered in scars and bruises. … Read More The battle…