Saturday 19th April 2014

I load my gun. I
Fire at the stars. I
Watch them tumble down. I
Shoot more and more. I
Love how the sky darkens. I
Have the power to kill light. I
Am invisble in my darkness. I
Will kill all the stars.

You try to stop me. You
Pull at my gun. You
Wrestle it out of my hands. You
Point it at me instead. You
Shoot me in the head. You
Watch me bleed to death. You
Scream when I come back. You
Do not understand how. You
Can’t see the lifelessness in me. You
Drop the gun and run away. 

They see me murdering stars. They
See your footsteps in the snow. They
See the painting of my blood. They
Stay far away from me. They
Call for the police. They
Try covering the sky. They
Fall under the blanket of their lies. They
Realize who I am. They
Scramble to get away. They
Now understand why you left. They
Never make it before- 

Turn my gun at them and I
Lodge bullets in their flesh and You
Stab me in my back. You
Burn me with your hatred. They
Elevate you with admiration. I
Am the nightmare you’all escaped. 

You Tied  A Rope Around My Neck And Called It “Attachment”

Friday 18th April 2014

On the way back from school,
I looked for you in the clouds but
I could not find you. I could not hear
Your laugh. Nor could I see your smile.
And I screamed for you, 
But I heard nothing; nothing but the 
Fractures which cracked my heart apart
As the wind howled in my ears. 

And only then did I understand the truth
About you; my pain; your absence- all.
You dug a hole in ly chest, and filled it with
Your remains; your disintegrating bones; 
Knowing that I would be left to contemplate
Your skeleton once you were gone. 

And now I understand that your absence
Hurts me not because I held on too much,
Not because of my brimming love,
Not because you were the beat of my heart,
But simply because you killed me. 
And I was too stupid to realize you were doing so
Until I was already buried in this grave- 
With your numerous ghosts.

You tied a rope around my neck,
Secured it harshly with your hands
And you never did let go; you only
Held it tighter between yur fingers because
You knew that as long the rope was there,
I’d never be free of you. 

You tied a rope around my neck
And called it “attachment” because 
You knew that no matter where you went,
I’d follow if it meant being a little bit closer
To you; always you.
I was your dog and you put me on a leash
And you pulled away, harder, harder;
And you knew that with whole realms,
Oceans, between us, I’d never be able to
Follow you; And I’d never be able to cut the rope
With my hands tied back behind me.
So you took one more step back,
And then one more and the noose around my
Neck became an iron necklace instead and
Every step you took made it 
Strangle me a little more. I couldnt even shout for help.
I was at your inexistent mercy.

You tied arope around my neck and
You pulled until I suffocated and
Could only collapse limply, to the ground
My whole body falling apart.
And I do not miss you because
I was never attached to you;
Your absence only kills me a little more
Ever day, second, minute, 
Because you cruelly strangled me
And kept moving back, pulling me along. 


Wednesday 16th April 2014


Be normal. Wipe your
Tears. Your are strong. You are made
Of steel and cold ice. 
Be normal. Show your teeth and
Laugh. Because you can pretend. 

Blue FunK- Get A Clue 

Tuesday 15th April 2014

Depression is not a mental illness.
It is simply a way of life. 
It’s the hole that shades you from scorching light.

Depression is not a phrenic defect. 
It’s an intellectual slant. 
It is an interminable labyrinth. 

Depression is not a veil of madness.
It’s an erudite fallacy. 
It is the anti-deception armour.

Depression is not a noxious poison.
It’s a cathartic narcotic. 
It’s the cobra’s immunizing venom. 

Depression is not a hopeless tumor.
It is an intentional grave. 
It’s the glacier your heart is turned into. 

Depression is not breath-extirpating.
It’s life’s diaphonous mirror. 
It’s the knife you plunge in your heart, to bleed. 

We Are The Demented- Spineless-Vains


Human beings. Fragile to the core. We form ties with others; fickle strings which we knot around others’ hands, hoping they won’t let go. And when they finally do, when they willfully take a knife and cut the string tieing them to us, we crumble like towers made of sand. And the pain, instead of deterring us, only makes us sicker with want; blind with need. So we lather our sides with glue and stick to others’ bodies thinking that this time, they will not be able to get away. But they do. They always do. They stretch and twist against us, yearning to get away. We try to keep them with us, we fight to make them stay, but they leave- they always leave. And when they find the strength to rip themselves off of us, we are open wounds which pulse incessantly. We are abraded lacerations that are doomed to never heal. We bleed and our blood turns blue, then black with all the bitterness and hatred that creeps into our veins.


There is no hope for us. We make attachments we know will never last. We hold on to people, knowing full when that we cannot restrain them, keep them, make them stay. We let ourselves be submerged by the love we feel for others, until one day their heart becomes our own; And when they walk away, we are left heartless, empty, drained… We build our lives around cards when we know that even the softest of breeze can sweep them away. And when they finally do leave, it still stupidly comes as a shock. Because we are too blind, too utopian, to accept the hard reality that basks infront of us. So we weep with bitter madness and we cry and break and drown in despair; blaming them for leaving when we are the ones who hoped they’d stay. 


We are the crazies. We are the ones devoid of rationality and logic. The ones who kill reality and live in dreams. We never learn. We are always compelled to hurt ourselves, by hoping, wishing, craving…  These self-destructive longings- they fire our souls. We are glass windows that others easily shatter with their lies. We are vapor that others do not see. We are wounds whose skin has forgotten how to heal. The tissues try to mend but our brokenness is irreparable. We are embodiments of insanity: we breathe the power in others  to kill us when we matter. And we go back to them like loyal dogs, again and again.


Nothing will ever change.