Monday 15 February 2016

Heavenly mess and the promises



I can see the bright color of my ceiling being faded,
it's being harder for me to focus my eyes.
I can feel my hand trembling and its carrying something.
Something just dropped aside, hit the ground i can barely hear it.

I force my feeble hand to sense my wrist that feels so numb.
Oh! I realize,
i made a mess again, another attempt to be no more.

The trial cut that i no longer remember, was it really me?

The blood is oozing out like it did before and a feeling so hard strikes me once more.
The same feeling with a rolling tears and a heart so heavy,
A promise to myself not repeating these mistakes
It's been way too many.

It's been a habit, the mess and the promises.
I don't know what guides me nor i know what kills me inside.
I have always wanted to live when i am aware,
but the impulse that drives me
That kills me from the outside.
Maybe it wants to see me balanced.
Balanced from both the ends.

This mess and the promises make me feel so high,
So good that i always want to stay alike.
I neither need drugs nor i need liquors.
This insane state and the numbness after the mess circulates within my vessels.

Nothing can beat this heavenly feeling, that goes through my nerves.
And not a thing stops me from laying here, everyday like a corpse.

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