Broken Portraits

Photo by Eric Park on Unsplash

My eyes have fallen sore and from having rivers flow from them,
My vision is blurred from the spinning tenebrous,
Maybe it’s only when I’m hazy that I see clearly,
Because every time I hold on to something which seems to be real,
It shatters and shows its true colors,
And my sanity breaks.

So I gathered those shattered pieces in no particular order,
And got them framed into a poem,
And I buried those frames under pillows which could tolerate,
Much more than my headaches.

I crafted more such frames and had them buried,
I crumbled under the pieces of my heart and named those pages art,
To be left untouched, unheard and never seen,
I chose suffocation under the name of selflessness.

But it was my ability to feel that made the injuries deep,
And now my numbness seals every open door.
So I let those frames of broken words,
Rust under the cotton of the now dry pillows.

I encaged my voice.

I painted myself a mirage of self-control,
I buried my rage in the pit of my hollow chest,
I abandoned my soul because it was easier
to feel nothing than to feel it all together.

But it destroyed me,
The paranoia of being a void drove me crazy,
I refused my emotions and by doing so I refused my core self,
It took me much time to realize,
It’s our capacity to feel that makes us strong;
To cry,
To love,
To empathize,
To hurt,
To heal.

We carry a journey of unwritten voices inside our bones,
Memories untold and pieces unglued,
We engrave bleeding history underneath our skin
And bear it all and breathe.

Our broken hearts make us brave,
Our battles make us stronger,
The blood we shed does not make us weak,
For our scars make us immortal heroes.

So I now welcome my emotions with open hands,
Whether they speak peace or rapt absurdity,
I shall frame my shattered pieces and embrace their faults,
And hang the paintings on my barren walls.


Originally published in A Cornered Gurl on Medium, can be read here.

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Massacre

Photo by Eric Ward on Unsplash

There are times when I feel it’s the end,
Whether to my profound happiness or my uncared pain I’m not aware,
I feel like breaking free from this prison of torment within which I’m encaged,
Which feels a task so lucid with my fists clenched and my heart burning
With a perilous fire of rage.

Because I’m tired of a bleeding heart,
I’m tired of my salty tears,
I’m tired of the gloominess I’m enforced to endure,
In this massacre whether I’ll survive I’m unsure.

And even though there are moments when people show they care,
My self-hatred has grown everlastingly that those moments seem unfair,
Because all I do is cause people pain endlessly,
Sometimes I feel the world would be a better place without me.

And that’s when I fall asleep from the excruciating thoughts,
But then I wake up and again go through the same,
My life seems to be slipping from my hands,
But there’s no point of having one for internally I’ve collapsed.

I feel like it’s Groundhog Day,
Where the same insane sorrow sanely I try to treat everyday,
But I’ve tried every way,
No stars are gonna shine as there is no light,
In my gloomy little sky called life.

So for once I’ll follow my heart,
No matter how much it bleeds and helplessly cries for hope,
For once and forever I end your troubles dear friend,
For now to this massacre I put an end.


Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to share your thoughts or drop in any suggestions ❤
You can contact me here and I will get back to you as soon as possible.

Originally published on 5th August, 2019

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The Trance

Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

You swallow the words which make you choke,
You burn them and let the fire burn you,
You shriek and scream and wail,
Losing every breath begging for an escape.

Your thoughts collect and intertwine,
The wires of your brain get messier than they are,
The suffocation, the nausea is getting too much to bear,
Your poems are breaking down into puzzles never to be solved.

And you panic.
As the words crawl up to your throat and your soul ignites,
You try to find a piece of paper to write down these lines,
But the world stirs into a nightmare blur,
As your feelings knock at your chest for the first time
After you numbed your nerves.

And you find yourself in a trance again,
Phrasing lines you didn’t realize you felt,
Suffering headaches you didn’t ask for,
Bleeding your veins to feel a purpose.

And it teases your sanity and tazes your skin,
Pokes at your eyes and begs for it’s darkest wish,
You hallucinate realities you don’t want to exist in,
With ending your reality as the only solution.

And you dissolve.
In the taste of age-old wine,
Letting your tongue imprison the superior mind,
And your eyes pour out the crumbled thoughts,
And the scene distorts as your mind pauses.

And you inhale.
The smoke of incinerated selves of your past,
You paint a mirage of victorious shadows,
You try your best to stay still but the scene swallows you,
And you drown in the defeat brought upon by you.

The trance begins and takes with you every sight you hold on to,
It forbids you to move and chains your feet to the ground,
But your head can’t gather the strength to stay at one place,
So you decide to cling to your nocturnal escapes,
Only to welcome the trance again the next day.


“The trance happens when you don’t focus on anything, and the whole big picture swallows and moves around you.

The character ‘Sam’ in the novel ‘The Perks of Being A Wallflower’, by Stephen Chbosky explaining what she called “the trance” to Charlie, the narrator of the novel.

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to share your thoughts or drop in any suggestions ❤
You can contact me here and I will get back to you as soon as possible.

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