Anxiety kickin’

Decorum is overrated, learned this firsthand few years ago since anxiety has been my long-term abusive boyfriend. I still spent my share of weeks in bed whenever the anxiety got too heavy. The flipside pushes me into moments of tightrope walkin’, snorkeling in dark caves, and walking through cemeteries inscripting my own epitaph. This emotion is different, what most ‘normal’ people could ever conceive but it still makes me feel hopeless and suddenly I’m furious! Furious that life can throw such curveballs at you, and those ever flowing waves of tragic comedy.
Few minutes later, I’m all out of emotions.
Peace.

True or false.

It must be miserable, seeing the worst in people. You’re scared of taking chances, aren’t you? Tell me, how bad can it be?
From the crowded streets to lonely balconies, I see people in their best and their worst;
It’s a shaky bridge, I tell you,
You either burn it down or fall off of it.
Take a chance.

Well, that’s very moving, isn’t?

Just wondering!

Where is that place I yearn to go? Is it in the midst of the oceans or up beyond the boundless sky? Is it hidden behind the rays of the sun or blown away with the wind passing by?
Where is that place I can be? Myself in a timeless glee. The sky, it’s light and the silent sea, will they turn their gaze to me?
An eternal solitude, for now and forever more like my soul stripping nude on a still cosmic shore.

Time.

The time that I’ve looked upon speaks of something that is gone. Our birth is but a sleep, a fading mist which we think of as predestined. Heaven begins in infancy, continuing throughout the youth; is on it’s way unattended. In course of time how it dies away and fade into the light of common day!

The fragments of human life; the dialogue of business, love or strife, are haunted forever by the eternal mind.

And how we slave our lives right into the grave.

Change.

There can't be change without loss of routine, which is why so often people are afraid of it. It take them away from what they always knew. I know how affirming it feels to blame the outside world, denying ownership of whatever role you have in the existential play of your oh so important life, draped in misguided sense of self righteousness and an outrage over certainty. 

Memories.

Memories. I try and revive a few. My recognition and remembrance are faint. 
A dark sycamore of disconnected consciousness lays in repose.
Waves of reason soak into the roots
And I wonder, “why does it stand ashore?”
Green to the very door in wreaths of smoke like a hermit it stands alone.

It’s presence disturbs me with the joy that elevates reminiscence which now sublimes.

Passing by.

Grey seas and soil, black
Moon, half, could fit in my hand
Waves that leap.
Are dreams lost in my sleep
I’m filled with joy, overwhelmed with fear
By voices that speak.

Neither wrong nor right
Time and again, acquainted with the night.
I looked down the city lane
Distressed and unwilling to explain.

“Lead the way!”
The street lights say.
I chase the twilight,
Not here to stay.

Ramble

I stand here unseen, trapped by thoughts of you in between. A glance of your face under the setting sun is my well earned possession; when the day is done, no strings attached, unafraid of division. There’s joy followed by pain and loss accompanied my gain.
Why whine about pain and loss? There’s a flow with time, there’s a river and waves that rhyme. Keep walking, I’m right behind.

Whispers- collaboration

The wind has agreed to carry, my words in its liberal womb. We will stir awake some trees from sleep and whisper songs beside the lonely tomb.
Yesterdays hide within my heart, shielded by sorrows. I whither slowly, dreaming of tomorrows.
Do you hear me, o resting soul!
This is my lullaby,
My sleep has waned
Do you mind,
If I borrowed?

In collaboration with Bharath. Always a savior!

Story

Everyone has a story,
Behind harsh exterior caught in the crosshairs of mundaneness; reliving the moments, lost somewhere amidst distant memories.
Sun paints the sky as dusk locks it in a cage;
Quietly in solitude,
How night pens the poem and day,
hastily turns the page!

Unrest.

Have you really had a bad day or just 10-20 minutes when you let your thoughts go rogue? When you unintentionally transfer that to ones you love! You say you don’t know?
Come on! You run this shit.

Most of your stress comes from the way you respond not the way life is. I’m quirky, silly, blunt and broken or maybe not; sometimes I trip over my insecurities and Sometimes, I’m lost in thoughts wandering around in turbulence.
I love myself and abhor it at the same moment.

Words- collab

What you read isn’t my story; don’t try reading in between the lines. The words that tell my tales are struck off and horridly concealed. Every happy spell is contaminated by the knowledge of how fleeting such moments are and how life is spent trying to disentangle this contingency. There’s no life on paper, neither […]

Words.

When I’m unable to write and he comes to rescue.

Chaotic solitude.

Sometimes I long for silence. The terrifying kind, one that implodes in your mind.
The sun melts into twilight, everything happening in a sight.
Glittering sheaves, frail and fluttering leaves.
The wild wind blowing, hark to a voice that is calling. What is most like thee? In a dell of dew, scattering it’s real hue. Teaching me gladness, that my brain must know.
Thoughts come alive, dancing in the symphonies of my mind. The harmonius madness from my lips would flow. The world should listen then, as I’m listening now.

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