Colder than the Freezing Kitchen Floor

Came across this piece in my notepad app a.k.a the hub of my miscellaneous-unfinished-notes; it’ll probably remain like this forever. An excerpt from something which is equally unknown to me as it might be to anyone else.

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3 a.m:

Her back slid against the wall
With her Bare feet and naked soul
She sat on the freezing kitchen floor
With an urge to explore
Her brusies well secured
She is unknown to herself now
Her skin is not free of the old scars
But she has learned to hide them well
Her mind is boggled up
She is ever messed up
The coldness is searing onto her body
She seems but unflinched
Maybe because she’s numb
Or perhaps because,
Her soul is colder than the freezing kitchen floor!

Moribund

What do I do?
Where do I go?

Whom should I consult?
Why do peeps insult?

Why am I lost?
How much did my soul cost?

What makes me so tired?
What was it that I desired?

Sigh sigh. But why sigh?
Gosh! Am I again high?

High on insomnia
Perhaps it’s hypersomnia

Darn, I followed my inner voice
I thought it was the only choice

And you, like always, I pushed away
Not long after you first said Hey!

Now there’s no hope, no ray
Maybe now I should pray

And then again dwell in despair
The damage I’ve caused is beyond repair

My life is like the dust on shelf
I’m again losing my torn self

To find it dead at the other end
To find it dead at the other end.

Another Sleepless Night

It’s dark and I’m alone
Alone and empty
Empty and nostalgic
Nostalgic and wide awake
Yet again
I don’t seem to know why
Sigh
Another night
Another sleepless night
Another day of faking smiles
Another lifetime of hiding scars
Perhaps
Another loved one lost
Or
Another lost love
Another shattered dream
Another tale of self loathing
Another desire unfulfilled
Another hour of regrets
Another week of hiding in
Another month of denial
Another effort to make through
Another morning waiting to rise
Another day anticipating to mock at me
Another night yearning to fill me up a glass of reminiscence
When will my life be free of these recurring anothers?
Yet another ‘another’
What is this even
A realm of anothers?
I’m stuck
How do I get out of this?
Another question
Which will only keep me up at night
Another night
Another sleepless night indeed.

The Living Dead

Veils before our mouths
And hands tied to the back
Our feet shackled to the ground
And throats strangled firm
Our hair pulled back
And chests pressed in
We clench our teeth
O my, we’re blind folded
And we must remain silent
You ask me the irony?
We call this life
We say we’re living
Whilst our souls only die
We let go of our dreams
And hold on to theirs
All day
Everyday
We strive unflinchingly
For what we don’t have
But can we ever have
The happiness we’re longing for?
We don’t even remember
What is it like to be happy
We haven’t even experienced
What is it like to be free
We’ve imprisoned our souls
In the quest for wealth
And fame
And comfort
And jeopardized our happiness
Only to run, run and run
Run after it all over again
But O let me ask you My love
For this is the least I can do
Why do you My love
Think you’re better off silent
And follow the suit
They’ve set before you?
Why don’t you instead
Resist the subjugation?
Why don’t you instead
Break all the chains?
And Set your soul free
And embrace yourself
Your scars
And your fears
And the irreplaceable tears?
Why do you conceal
Your soul my love?
My God, how has no one ever told you before
How beautiful you look
Not when your flesh is naked
But only when
Your celestial soul is!

Drunk On Love

Something I wrote when I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep without jotting down the thoughts boggling up my ever-vexed mind.

We’re the odds
We’re the misfits
We’re the innocents
We’re the real ones
But Oh, such a pity My love,
They call us the weirdos
They think we’re uncanny
To the lake when we go
They watch the waves
Resonate with our souls
O my, they’re so naive
For not they know
We’re just brave
Brave enough to accept our souls
Just like they’ve learned
Over the ages
Never to accept their bodies
As they find them shameful and despicable
So they put up a masquerade
To deceive one another
That’s how we’re different perhaps
We’re the open books
For not we ever hide
Our souls, we see
As ethereal packets of energy and love
The ones which when illuminate
Give out the radiations of Love and His oneness
They think we don’t know
How to live in this world
Let me ask them just for once
Do you even know how to live at all?
When we throw our hands
In the air as free
They laugh at us
Who’ll catch them they say
O my, they’re so naive
For each time we throw them out
With no one to reach
The wind is always there to see
And so it takes our hands in her hands
And with wind we fly ’round them
‘Round their pitiful lil’ houses
‘Round the places they claim are heavens
From up above where we dwell
They look so tiny
And so insignificant
And their cars they take so much pride in
O my, how naive they’re
They think we’re lost when we walk
Through the forests and plains
And rivers and seas
High and low, wide and narrow
They sleep fast while we stay up
The stars, they show us the path
And guide us all along
They think we’re lost
O, why not they know
We can find ourselves
Only once we’re torn and lost.
So let us dance
And get drunk on Love
And listen closely, my dear friend,
The universe will guide us
With it’s rhythm and bow
Let us dance
Round and round
Let us get lost
In the rhythm of Love
To discover the secrets
No one has ever known
Let us get lost
In the rhythm of Love
To find what we’ve lost
To find what we’ve lost

I’ll choose

In my dreams and real life
In words said and thoughts unverbalized
In the dark and bright daylight
And the days when I don’t know how to be alive
Or the ones I spend around spreading smiles;
I’ll choose you,
I’ll choose you over a trillion souls.
And I want you to know
That I’ll choose you forever!

The Pariah

I was once a shining star

Now I’m but a burning scar

The dreams I once saw seem so far

My hopes perished with the ash of cigar

Days and nights all spent in a bar

Staring the moon through the window ajar

I sit and play my old guitar

And secretly crave for the cookiejar

While everyone around wants castles and cars

But aren’t these ideas merely subpar?

Or is it only me who finds it bizarre

In this world which runs on dollars and dinars.

Darkness of the society mars

The genuineness of my soul by far

Oh my guardian where you are

I have searched the plains near and far

Come take me to the exemplar

Or show me where’s the lodestar

Who’ll guide me through this chaotic hour

And help me rise like a young Jaguar

My passions must subdue the old eschar

I need not to give an ear to their lour

Then my dreams wouldn’t seem so far

And I could again be a shining star!

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Let me filter all the dreams through the dream catcher.