It went up and down; the road to me, appeared like a wave. I see people go about and I watch, like a tombstone at a grave. Sometimes I wish there was an epitaph engraved, on my forehead so people could read; what I was and what I could never be. The wind strokes my…
I..uh…
Aswathy says this is me. I think. Sometimes it’s all I can do; sometimes it’s what I cannot. Sometimes it’s not the time, sometimes it’s just sometimes. It’s just time or maybe it isn’t; I don’t know. When I want to know, I don’t know what I have to know. When I do, I don’t…
Alive.
Tear through my tissuesSever my nervesPush in deepPull it out, I won’t weepLook me in the eyeTell me it’s okayTell me I’ll liveLet me bleed
Tolerance – collaboration
You say you like pain, addicted even. Does tolerance come that easy? If it did, why are we even alive? You say you feel pain everyday, that it’s killing you; but what if I tell you that it’s pain that keeps you alive, pull you away from death, stops you at the brink? You say…
Broken things – collaboration
She had a thing for everything broken. Believed broken things had better stories to tell and treasured them all. Bits and pieces of broken bangles, Cute little charms from a broken bracelet, Her grandpa's broken vintage radio, Her father’s broken watch and as she grew up, Broken hearts! Time has passed and broken hearts left…
Times
“God has a plan for you” So I’ve heard. Whatever path you take, it’s for good. Bad days pave way for good days. Do they? Is that what you tell yourself? Hard times test you; make you a better person. Tell me this, o honest denizen, do they make you better or broken? Broken isn’t…
Shit
“When I start working, I’m gonna get busy! A job I love that pays me well. Not a minute to spare.” That’s what I told myself through school and college and here I am, sitting on the western toilet seat wondering what I’m doing with my life and why there’s a phone in my hand…
State
Walk away. I’ve got nothing to offer; not even kind words. Look around, look at you, look at me. What do we have in common? Nothing that you can see or perceive. For me, what makes you happy is a dream. What you dread is a wound that doesn’t heal. Walk your way, I’ll walk…
Dear writers
Writers are weird. I wonder why every one of them thinks it’s only a woman that feels pain. She knew it, she did that, she hid this, she fought that Don’t men feel a thing? Have our sensory organs numbed down? Why do you associate pain with a gender when it’s the same for everyone?…
Happiness
There are paths to happiness. They say happiness is in you, you have to look within. It’s often said that happiness is a journey, not a destination. You move through it, not reach. What do you notice? Where did sadness go?? Look closer, it has always been here. Suffering makes you realise what happiness feels…
Shamble – collaboration
It’s real, it’s right yet unusual . Do I say it? Or just watch us moving apart? The dream that I want to chase, I let it pass me by, within the blink of an eye. Who decides fate? Sometimes it's best to let things be, hoping to escape misery. But sometimes I wonder; What…
Liars
Numbness has lost its meaning. You felt no pain before but now you do and you chose to ignore, say you’re numb. I see you lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. All the pain inside amplified by hope is eased by your dreams. That’s the thing about dreams, you live them like they’re…
Drowning
Everything’s gonna be alright. What an illusion! A hope inspiring lie! But why? I walk the same road I was on twelve years ago, in shoes that bared my toes. The boots are now strong and the story is too long, unfit to be a song. My shoulders that were once free now carry the…
Love.
“When you’re in love, you’re born anew” they say, those romantics whose hearts wandered astray; but who knew? It’s suicide and then you come back to life and there’s repetition, until you die.
You and I
I’m you, when you fight yourself, resisting change, looking for something new and crying over what to choose. I’m you, when you are recluse, craving company; scared knowing what you’d lose. I’m you, when you laugh in the moments of indecisiveness, not knowing what to do. You’re me if you think what I say is…
Insides. -collaboration
A white light takes over the night; I am as cold and dead inside. Shrouded in darkness, I lay and stare at the starless sky, gazing into the past, lost in the dwindling moments. I lose myself for the first time; don’t know what peace feels like, it’s been a while. A fog descends from…
I Stand
I stand barefoot, soiling my feet. It rained in the morning, sunny in the afternoon and is freezing at night. I hear chirping birds, cawing crows, gentle breezes, wild winds and howling canines. I start to erode but I stand. I stood still. I still stand.
Waters.
I swam an ocean of memories and each drop, an injury.
Mercy
I swear to you I’m lying, it’s true. I could’ve said it, I could’ve killed you and you’d have no clue. Bare handed, I stand before you, all I have are my words, they’re naked and few; they burn through your soul, fire in the hole! I know my way around and I shall break…
Escape
In the corners of my mind, along the borders undefined hide the thoughts as my consciousness slowly dies. Whatever cries inside, whatever lives despite, when nothing goes right, wait for tonight and I try; try to run out of sight.
I gotta stop.
Blood exuded from cuticles. It crawled down my fingers, reaching the palm; I close my fist tighter to bleed more, pressing harder. A sharp pain surges into my brain, I’m conscious and vain. It tastes sour, this blood of mine; I hear the rain and it’s half past nine. Dinner is served.
Flow.
One by one, they took the stones out from the wound; I got tears in my eyes but I laugh, joke around and make myself at ease. “Whatever gets stuck gives you an infection” they said, still working. I see flesh hanging on my knee, could hardly fold it right. No painkiller was given, they…
Lost story
Ours is a story written in the sands, gone with the wind and love, washed away by waves of suspicion. Whatever was left of the memories burned in altars of our minds and here we stand hanging on to fallacies. I’ve been there before, to that heartbreak shore, wetting my feet in the tides of…
A writer’s whisper – collab
The inkling in my handSeeks refuge,Urging me to jot it down,A revolt rages within. My soul tries to breaks the walls of the dungeon,It craves to be let out;The pen is a prison,Paper is the land far away.Letting go would mean pain,There is no liberty without a price;Writing is evil,Something that I need to survive.…
Scars – collaboration
Tisha and I wanted to write on “scars” but I was clueless as ever. This is what I finally came up with: Underneath my skin are tissues and blood; they know your touch. My senses have recognised you long before you laid your hands on me; like on a quest for holy grail, you searched…
Broken.
A fallen man struggles to get back on his feet; That’s what emotional trauma does. Why is it so hard? Why can’t he be what he once was? A broken man builds himself on his miseries and sometimes, misery is company.
Garden.
A flower blossomed from the cracks of her skin. Only to wither away before she could blink. Desolation echoed her in her voice; life pale, it had endured pain. The eyes have dried. Emotions had died; of abandonment and famine. There are worms now, crawling into her heart, burrowing into her soul. She had waned,…
Unrelated.
Life sometimes gets so hopeless that there’s nothing else one can do but laugh and Tears don’t taste good anymore. Emotions have abandoned me a long time ago, these are the days of apathy. Crises give meaning to existence. My soul encompasses the universe and scars are galaxies with stories hidden in plain sight. There…
Just a thought.
Sex was primarily a survival and defence mechanism. A pleasure that is pain, romanticised. Copulation was a tool to reproduce without which a species would perish. Somehow we got it under our control; we tracked and understood cycles. Sex was a necessity. Today, it has turned into a need. Human mind and consciousness attached emotions…
Art.
Doodle by her majesty Shreya. They say art stems from suffering, suffering gives life a meaning and They suffered the pain of their illusions; I paint my skin with the eternal pain of life itself.