When the darkness fills my heart
With my blood, it blends, runs in my veins
And through my finger tips, it drips,
The ink I write my melancholy songs with
Scarring the pages with my scars,
And in those pages, I can see
Continue reading “Scarring The Pages”
She traces her scars every night in the dark,
And picks on the scabs from the wounds of her heart,
She likes the pain she says.
She wears her old scars like tattoos of tales,
Says she would rather be a melancholy song,
A twisted story, a poignant poetry
Continue reading “Old Scars”
The end came and took from me,
The only thing I cared about.
I live on carrying around,
A heart heavy with memories.
I am still alive,
But only a little.
Sun still comes up every morning,
But the night doesn’t end.
Somedays when I think about the end,
And the fact that there is an end
It gets difficult to breathe.
The weight of that thought is so heavy,
That my shoulders start aching
And my back starts bending.
Continue reading “Staring Into The Darkness”
Eyelids so heavy from the weight of air,
Air that’s getting too heavy to breathe.
I swallow hard a lump in my throat,
And let my eyelids fall to meet my bottom lashes,
I expected peace but there was more chaos.
Continue reading “In My Dreams, It’s Sunny Again”
When the fog is so thick,
That it blinds you,
And you can’t see the path ahead,
Walk forward anyway.
It’s just gloom, not a Gate that blocks your way,
And what else is there to do
but walk?
We wish for the clouds to part,
And the sun to come out and warm the heart,
But a perfect sunny day never comes like that.
Gentle parting of the clouds gives luminescence of hope,
But not the illuminating fresh start.
He set fire to her heart,
And then he fell asleep, it was late in the night.
As it burned and she suffered in agony,
She heard him snore,
Next day he went about his day,
There was work, he had to go away.
He plucked the flower for himself,
And he was so happy to have it,
But then it started dying,
Day by day, petal by petal
He watched it turn to dust with an aching heart.
