Fact or Fantasy!

Drowning in bottles of alcohol,

Wishing and hoping against tomorrow,

It always takes a while for this heart of mine,

To stop bleeding with every beat at times. 

Into the smoke I blow,

Every heartache you gave me so,

Since you wish me to go,

I'll hitch a ride on these vapours alone. 

Will I ever get peace? 

The maze in my mind yields,

Abandoned love, forlorn breeds,

Just scream, scream and scream. 

If the gift of my absence makes him happy,

I'll fly away from his world into a dark alley,

Once again I'll lose this battle,

Let me be, even my soul is not strong to fight this dream. 

Cheers to Futile Attempts!

Patience is a virtue they say. But don't you ever stop and ask what's the prescribed limit of it. When you are this close to finally getting some peace and it's snatched away from you, what do you do? How many times you have to stretch yourself and feel obligated to a virtue that is buried deep in you. How many nights do you stay up and ask yourself "why?"  Being patient means you are at the mercy of someone always. Be it destiny or a person. You don't really have a say. 

I sometimes curse myself that I allow myself to care for people who don't even give a rats ass for me. even though I try against it, I can't stop and I curse myself for it. Not even a teeny tiny bit of care and consideration. I'm the one who asks how they are doing? I'm the one who holds them when they need support but what about me? Don't I need someone who bothers to give a fuck about me? And then it hurts like crazy when you are made to feel that you are hurrying and that is also questioned. 

This isn't fair you know. All the struggles that I go through and I still end up with nothing, not even satisfaction or serenity. People who are manipulative, bitchy and cunning win the game. I know a lot of things and I observe a lot of things, just because I don't say it often doesn't mean that it doesn't kill me inside. Just when I thought I was trauma free after five years of misery, don't I deserve a little bit of break?One wound after another. My heart and soul have become a battleground. I'm being stretched to a point where I'm close to breaking. It's never a great experience to go through similar trauma again and again. Just because you care for someone, should you be subjected to humiliation, torture or betrayal? Is that the cost of being unselfish or return of unconditional care? Is there even a point in feeling for someone?

I really wanted to be not in the house today because I knew i'd have gone mad. A undelivered message, waiting for that 'double check',  knowing that someone doesn't even want to talk to you makes you feel that you are the one who is clingy for what - just some peace? Maybe they want to talk to someone else who is important enough for a reply. Maybe talking to you is just a polite way to shut you up. Maybe you are just a casualty. Maybe all you ever were is just a distraction. At that point in time the hurt is so deep that it pains to breathe. That's the time when the only person who can console you is the one who is ignoring you. But you cannot run to them, them ignoring you is a good enough sign to stay the hell away and be at their mercy again. How many times does one have to go through the same feelings before one can be immune to those?

Just when you are fed up of crying in the bathroom, hiding your tears from everyone else, you reach out to someone and if they respond, I value that. I just wanted peace this night. I wanted to scream and cry. If someone gives you that freedom to open up for your wounds, they deserve a spot in my life for good.And then there are the deep conversations that happen when you are with people who understand you and match your wavelength. They are the ones who listen to you crib and howl about all that's unfair in the world. These are the times where you talk to people and realise that you are logical. These are the times when you know who is your 3:00 am pal. These are the times when you know who you can count and rely on. It may not always be your soulmate or your lover or even your best friend, sometimes it's just a person who wants to just be there as a shoulder to cry on because you did the same for them and they value that and they give a fuck.

So, cheers to a night of destroyed hope yet again. For the tears cried again. 

Postulations!

He told her she is luminescence, so he left her in the murk.

He told her he is astray, so he manoeuvred her erroneous.

He told her she is sin, so he worshipped another mortal.

He told her she is a flower, so he buried her in mire. 

He told her she is a star, so he left her flaming.

Smothered

Everyone has their own outline of 3:00 a.m. deliberations. They are often filled with contemplations which route through your core at varying pace. Sometimes you just want to shut yourself up, lock yourself in a room and break away from the world. Life with missing parts of you is often obscure. For some it encompasses missing someone, for some it’s about love or the lack of it.  Mine have lately been about overthinking things.  Sleepless nights or interrupted slumber coupled with such thoughts is perilous. What’s even more abysmal is a disoriented head where only flashes of occurrences happened with you or your current disposition keeps repeating on loop.

3:00 a.m. should be deemed fatal when unanswered questions keep knocking about in your mind. Why is life not easy? Why don’t people around you make matters easy? The pendulum swings amid feelings and restlessness, that’s the mindset with which you lie awake in the dark, staring into oblivion. That’s the time when you are just you with your sentiments and your reflections. The worst form of torture is questions that are piled in your brain which you want to clear and seek answers for but can’t because it isn’t in your power, so you end up reading more and more into it. It’s like a bottomless pit that you keep falling into. You may choose to let it go if you cannot find a way to elucidate them but sooner or later they do tend to reach up to you and prick you every now and then.

It’s like a tangled web that you scuffle to get out of. The more you fight it, the more it enfolds you in its talons. Sometimes, it chokes you so bad that you just cannot breathe. The calm exterior that you possess seems to be melting inside with a heaviness that is waiting to burst. You cannot assume that people will empathize with you like you understand what they are going through. You cannot expect people to be kind to you in return or respect your wishes. You have to come to terms with that. Acceptance of reality comes with a lot of carnage, which is usually of your own self. So, you consent to whatever it is that time deals you and cope with the ramifications yourself, without anyone knowing what you are going through, smiling all the way.