Take my final breath

Engulfed in a maelstrom;
you are the current that's dragging me down
into an empty cold place, my untimely demise,
but what a perfect death would it be
to die in your arms.
Now the pressure increases
and my ribs shatter, I feel the punctured lungs
and my breathing slows, 
I send one final brave glance, a silent protest.
Looking down at my watery grave,
accepting my final burial.
And I see you smile
as you watch me suffer and die.

Living a denial

I'm a frightened girl, in this big world
swaying along the tapered lane.
I make effigies on the clouds,
with inkless pens.

Singing to the air,
talking to someone who doesn't exist.
I pick up my paints,
go out again for a last try.

Not yet, they say
But I've waited long enough.
I walk back.
murmuring to the space, into the darkness.
Come and hold my fists steady,
rock me in your lap
while I sob into your shoulder.

Will you, please come and sing to me?


*Met Aisha, 19,recently.
Brilliant artist.
Not allowed to pursue, mothers 3 kids instead. 

The Unsuspecting Victim

The sky is gray,
as I glance from the edge
I smell the pin drop violence
I hear screams of their horror and terrified breathing
I see swings where no children play
And I see a graveyard where most lay


Horrifying homes filled with fear
and blood shattered on the street
I hear a child crying
And I see his innocence dying

I see the blood on the walls
I see despair throughout the place
And terror on a child's pale face


This child, as fresh as sin
now, doesn't know how to grin.
He suffers, burned and bruised
He wants to be free,
He looks up the sky,


But the sky is still gray.

Wind Down.

Many always ask, how did it all end?

Oh,

ll tell you.

With a goodbye of course.

And just a little white lie.

and "You're so important to me"

and hope, immense.

Or maybe it ended with artistry.

not with a whimper but with a bang.

P.s. - many people anxiously, asked me about my mood after the last post. I'm good and happy. Its just my incapability of writing happier poems. Someone once told me, you can't write about the happy times, cause you're too busy living them. So true.

P.p.s - Happy Birthdayyy Shaveen! :D

Lost In The Abyss

That feeling,

when all you want to do is, get home

get to your room,

get in the bed,

hug onto the pillow

and try breathing.

And try forgetting.

Whatever happened.

Whatever is happening.

You're trying to convince yourself, its nothing. its's fine. it'll be okay soon.

but its like a glass splinter working its way into you.

And you can't fucking breath.

And you're tired.

Nothing is right,

nothing is wrong either.

Then what is choking the life out of you?

You wait in your shadow. for lighting to strike.

looking for someone to be there,

who holds your hand, and whispers,

It'll be okay.

But you're tired of waiting.

Tired of wishing and wanting.

In then you'll be the only one who's got to live through it.

But just this once, you want it to be easy.

You want it to be simple,

you want to be helped,

you want to be saved.

But you know you won't be.

You'll be the last one to know.

You'll be left out in the cold snow.

[The emotional freak that I am, wrote this after watching Never Let Me Go, I was pretending I'm Kathy.]

I know its not poetry, free verse maybe.

Apart

A glass wall separates me from your world.

So that your world tantalizingly hangs in front of me,

Like a bait,

Knowing that I can't touch it.

Knowing that I can't be a part of it.

Knowing that I can only wait.

and hope and wish.

While you go on and pretend I don't exist.

And

While I calm down the tiger in me

clawing fervently underneath my skin

to find an escape, to find freedom, but mostly,

you.

*Please judge me. But politely.