Lay Still, My Love

Death has never looked this attractive before
He comes towards me with a cool arrogance

“Your life is mine
And mine alone”

His words sound like a declaration of love
As he coaxes the last breath out of me

With his shower of unending kisses
This sweet release of death

Till I lay still beside him.


Dead Battery

Today I felt like a full battery
Slowly dying
From exhaustion
From smiling.

For a Friend #2: mistaken

That night at the movie theater,
My heart was with someone else.
But I felt your shoulder touch mine,
And I felt restless.
What is this feeling?
What is my dead battery of a heart feeling?
And did you feel it too?
Do you feel like you cheated on your love interest
Like I felt I’ve cheated on mine?
Am I starved for physical affection?
Is that why I felt something I shouldn’t feel,
For someone I shouldn’t feel for?
The closer your face became,
The faster my heart awakes.
But it’s a mistaken feeling,
For sure,
Because you’re my best friend
And best friends do not, love, invoke.


in fits of tears and gasping breaths

i take the scissor and insert my fingers into those wretched holes

and take my long locks of hair

grab whatever his disgusting hands touched

and cut it off

i pulled on them and separated them from my scalp

a burden undid;

i think back to a few moments ago

when i slit his throat

in one slash

his predatory blood on the bathroom floor

his stray drops of blood splayed on the fogged mirror;

my hair

i cut off my hair mercilessly

like he had his way with me mercilessly;

i begin to collect the remainder of my sanity

and walk out of the haunting scene with an open bottle of kerosene

and torch the fuck out of the ghoul and his mansion

and with it, the remainder of my hair.

It’s Me, Hannah Baker.

Maybe I’m an attention seeker
Maybe the depression I’m going through looks unreal
But I’m scared
I’m scared for my life
And the murderer within me
I don’t think I can let go of this cancerous thought
So much death
So much of freedom
I wish someone gave a shit
I wish I gave less of a shit
Why am I so preoccupied with myself?
My acts of kindness gives me whiplash
And it hurts
It hurts like hell
I want to walk away from my sadness
From my high expectations
But I’ve loved and lost
My whole being wished it would be released from this bony cage
It all started with hope
A hope for something better
No one would believe this smile isn’t from a genuine origin
I want to admit to someone that I’m suicidal
But I don’t want advice
I want salvation
Someone to fix my problem
Without touching me
Without letting me pass my anger to the next
I could write forever about my disappointment
But that would bore you
Like it bores many
I want a listener
Who can make out the words from my silence
Violence seems like the last option.

You know who you are

You came out of desperation to meet me

Now out of desperation I beg you

Please stop the lies, The lies that

Originate from your broken heart.

Yes, I left you,

But your ego doesn’t need rude stories

To support you.

If your intentions were to bother me,

You have achieved your despicable goal.

I’ve heard the rumours your black soul takes nourishment from

And you have made me a broken play thing,

Forever lost to your friends for entertainment.

But how do you sleep at night knowing

That your lies can unravel at any point of time

With just the click of my tongue?

“How are you?”

Ask me questions like “How are you?”

And watch me lie.

“I’m fine,” I lie over and over again,

Plastered with a remorseless smile.

My insides tremble, begging me to let out what I’ve been keeping in for years,

But no one cares.

And no one asks with the true intention to listen,

To listen to my sorrows,

Because my woes are merely a phase,

A phase that lasts a lifetime and a half.


Convalescent youths
But they fall into the same habit
Running towards the same drug
That their parents followed to

Freedom, money,
Job, security,
Settlement, Children,
It’s a cycle for the poor in imagination.

Stockholm Syndrome

Most are trying to get out of the maze
But I don’t want to leave this confusion
It’s a Stockholm Syndrome of sorts
And I wish I could stay in this trap forever

Call it military,
Call it school,
Call it prison,
Call it home,

Call it what you want
But you know change is a bitch
And those awful years were the best years of my life

Quiet Crush

Not a single word
Not a single sound
And yet I smile through it all
Just so you know
I don’t feel hurt by your shroud
You make me find you
But that’s hard in the maze of your peers
And your delicious mind
Which I used to eat
Has put me to happy tears
But now you’ve started to nibble on mine
And this good feeling needs to end
Before those three horrific words resound
And nothing can be mend.

Spare Me

He knows
The man knows about my crimes
My mysterious shadow keeps secrets
But in front of him,
They won’t tell lies.
My poltergeist writes in blood,
What I’ve done on his white walls,
There’s no hiding from him
And every night, I hear his call.
Fate will catch me
And feed me to him
Even though I can’t predict the future
I know there’s no escaping the death din.
I’m a dead man running
With no where to hide.
I can’t expect myself to out run his dogs
Or his rippling howls of terror,
Or his plagues of frogs.
There’s no denying it
That I’ve done wrong
But for the last time,
Spare me Lord.


Once a traveler found himself lost near a river

He placed his body under a banyan tree

And under the light of the shimmer

Of the night’s Sun, that listened to the

Wails of Lost Travelers.

His fear of the darkness made him fight,

With his powerful voice, his song flew like a kite.

The hours went on like a parade

His voice serenaded the serene scene.

Over the silence of his throat

A pebble fell from the Luna

And into the epicenter of his thoughts.

He noticed a ripple in the still natural mirror

And saw a figure in a fetal position

Adorned by the floating lotuses

Embedded in the same crystal water.

Without a second thought,

He leapt in to save the motionless

He pulled her out from her invisible cocoon

The fair bare maiden, made his heart throb

He let her lie under the banyan tree

In his makeshift shelter of leaves,

And covered her in his jacket,

He waited for her to awaken

So that he may be on his way.

And so she did revive,

Her skin glowing like the moon,

And her hypnotizing eyes and mesmerizing smile

Concentrating on her finder.

“Are you alright?” he asked,

And she did nothing but smile.

“You are no ordinary maid,

For you were born of the moon and the river.

And you are adorned by the light of Selene.

You are a Goddess, are you not?

Who are thee?”

“I am yours for all eternity.”

She says,

Her voice like trickling water.

“Love leaves the immortal behind,”

He says as he cradles her face,

“But I will not,”

She says as they consumate their love.

The Goddess spends all her time with her traveler,

Seeing the incredible world by his side,

But she knew she didn’t have long before his lifetime ended,

So she begs for immortality from her superiors,

And so she makes a deal with Jupiter.

“I give up my future children in exchange of his immortality,”

Jupiter said,”So be it! Your children shall be precious moonstones,

And in the hands of the men of the world forever.”

The immortal traveler did not know of this exchange,

And the Goddess told him the moonstones were a symbol of their eternal love,

And so, there ended the tale of the traveler and the daughter of luna

With an abundance of moonstones in world

For the love of a man.