The Archived Ghosts
Headlines.
A 20 year old girl kidnapped
Will she be saved or raped?
New day, new headlines
Family of four in an accident
Will the remaining two overcome the loss?
New day, new headlines
Young guy shot in head
Forever stuck in coma or just a matter of time?
And the list goes on
As the archived ghosts pile up,
Unbeknownst terrors.
What happened to the girl? Did they save her? Did they rape her? What about the family? How are they surviving? Is she okay? Where is she? Do they have resources? The coma guy, please don’t let him be dead? Do they have the energy to pull through? Did he make it? Is he traumatised? Does he remember anything? Is she traumatised?
And so you turn to the news
To find answers
Of questions unasked
Of stories incomplete
But there it is:
New day, new headlines.
Chasing the thrill
I dig deep
Into the creased pages
Of my diary
Thoughts pouring out,
My escape,
I think,
As my dark side
Vents itself out
Mocking at the niceness
I portray to the world.
I write of serial killing,
It excites me,
The thought of
Men under my control
Tied against the scuffed wall
In the crumbled room
With a window
Not protected from dust and rust.
I love the spark that appears
in my victim's eyes,
As they plan a escape from the window,
And how quickly it dampens,
When they realize they can't.
I make sure the window escape is impossible.
My plan is always perfect.
I love showing them
Moments of their life
Before their death
Their loved ones
Their memories
Till each and every particle of their body
Is squirming
Begging me to let go.
That's when I put my fingers
On their head
Shaped like a gun
Move closer
To their ears
And whisper
BANG BANG.
The terror thrills me.
The terror that keeps on increasing
With the ticking of the clock
Knowing their time has arrived.
The wide eyed fear in their eyes
Turns me on
But alas they have got to be killed,
It can never last forever.
For I have other targets in store
And more scenes of blood and gore.
Drifting with the crowd
you know
how they say
don't drift with the crowd
they fail to say
you'll be trampled upon
if you go against the crowd
they fail to say
none will accompany you for long
on the path you chose
because baby in the end
everyone's gotta catch up with the crowd.
They'll tell you
don't drift with the crowd
glorifying it
as "special" and "unique"
but in reality
all you got is isolation,
being called a bore,
and a destination
you can describe to none.
So I wonder
why would anyone
not drift with the crowd
Unless and until
no other option is allowed.
Loneliness
know that familiar ol' feel
of loneliness embracing you
as people leave your side
as they refuse to understand you one more time
know that sneaky lil' hand
of loneliness creeping up your spine
with its "I told you so"
as the world continues
to function in a manner
your mind can't fathom
know that dreadful grasp
of loneliness over you
vowing never to leave you alone,
oh the irony,
as you tumble into
the deep melancholic pit
with waves of darkness drenching you
enveloping your flailing arms
as you try to find a spot to hold onto
in a society ignorant to your differences
till you realize the only option you have
is to sink into that darkness
with your best friend, loneliness.
I often wonder
I often wonder
how it feels
to have someone
by your side
at a time of need.
I often wonder
how it feels
to have a hand
to pull you through
when the current
goes against you.
I often wonder
how it feels
to have a safe place
to pour out your heart
when your inner battles
tear you apart.
I often wonder.
because you see,
it is hard to believe
when they always leave.
Broken Relationships
I like to feel
Every shard of a broken relationship
Running my fingers over it
Caressing its edges
Letting the blunt ends prick my wounds
Making them bleed
Over and over
Till the blood has all run out
Till I'm familiarised
With every single piece
Its cuts and crease.
I like to analyse
Every hidden corner of a broken relationship
Every single perspective
Every incident
List down the possibilities
Break 'em down
Analyse them further
Till the throbbing ache in my head
Has become routine
Till there is nothing new
That I haven't already seen.
Only then, do I stand up
Burn the pieces
All etched in memory
And walk away.
The Misfits
And what are we?
But outsiders
Gazing into this world
Almost envying those who readily fit in
Those who bond over mutual personalities
Over mental compatibilities.
And what are we?
But aliens
Sent on a secret mission
To abort mankind
For their lack of common sense,
It seems.
And what are we?
But those rare finds,
Those lonely individuals
Who have given up long ago
Finding their place
In this society.
Yet here we are,
The self-sufficient variety
Surviving against all odds
Growing better by the day
Amazed forever by the wonders our minds create.
Self Care
Self care
Is exhausting
It's lonesome
It's reminding yourself a thousand times
Everything's gonna be okay
So much so that it becomes your mantra
It's holding yourself in the middle of the night
Having your own shoulder to cry on
It's wiping your own tears
Crawling under the safety of your own shadow
It's baking a cake to celebrate yourself
Cause nobody knows what a warrior you have been
It's squeezing your own hand for comfort
Cause that's what two hands are for
It's loving yourself through the ugly bits
It's saying all those pretty things
While rocking yourself to sleep.
It's standing proud of all the good you've done
Forgiving yourself for all that went wrong
It's writing yourself poems
Reminding yourself how beautiful you are
It's loving yourself
And not waiting for anyone to love you
It's self sufficiency
It's strength
It's beautiful,
Worth the exhaustion
Because in the end
There are no disappointments
No hurts
No heartbreaks
It's all for yourself
Cause you are worth it
You are yours,
Always.
