Pain Killer

Pain killer

A pill after a pill

I throw my head back violently

Shoving the pills down my throat

I reach to my phone

Searching through the contacts for his name

I open the contact details, press the number, dial

A black screen, eternal seconds of death, I wait

Ring, Ring…

A busy tone of devastation

I sink in my bed, my tormentingly comfortable bed

I feel the pines piercing my sensitive skin

I seek the tablets again

The pain killer is wearing off

This numbness, the itch in the back of my spine

The irritation, the violent shake in my left arm!

Ring, Ring…

My phone is ringing, displaying a photo, his photo

A short ring, a dead ring

The screen dies, killing the vibrant colours on display

A deep breath

A sudden release of air from my painfully contracted lungs

A relief accompanied by a blow of anger

My wretched fury

A deep breath

My muscles loosen, he is ok

A wave of relaxation rushes over me

Ring, ring, I dial his number, and wait

“Hello love”

A deep breath of relief and appreciation

“I missed you”

The pain killer kicks in, no extra pills needed

“I tried reaching you today, call rejected…”

“Sorry love, a bit hectic, it has been”

“I thought something bad happened!”

“Sorry love, I have to go, talk later”

A busy tone…

The line died on me

The screen, black, howling at me in silence

Mirroring my dazzled, red, tired eyes

My heart gets tied to a vicious stone

That sinks it deep in a heavy ocean

It strives, it fights, it drowns, in vain

With the last strand of hope burning with the last bubble of air bursting

I madly seek the tablets again

The pain is devouring my veins

Eating through my bones

I need my temporary fix

I throw my head back again

Shoving it down, shoving it down

I close my eyes, I try to breathe

Waiting for the cycle to be repeated

Another pill, another call

Another breath, another fall

Anger, fury, relief unfolds

A distorted chain of events going on and on

My Planet’s Colours over the Moon

I’m over the moon

Watching the various colours of my planet as they change and intertwine

I’m over the moon

As my feet sink in deep pitches of ash and blood

Blood?! What blood?!

I’m over the moon…

Here comes the hail

Tiny snow needles puncturing my skin, where my nerve buds are active the most

I’m set on fire, by the electrifying sensation screeching down my chords

Eating at my bones

I scream so loudly, terrifyingly

My voice is devoured by the vast, black, empty, space

Here come the waves

Crashing at my spine

I forcibly kneel, tilting my head, fracturing my back

My immobility consumes me, and the pain

I’m over the moon

Watching the various colours of my planet as they change and melt together

My eyes are fighting for vision across my muddy tears

Mixing with my blood, sweat, ash, skin, and fear

My lungs try not to collapse, inhaling the molecules of destruction oppressing me

As I’m over the moon

Watching the colours of my planet as they lose their properties in each other

Dispersing into an unknown

Seas

Winds saturated with iodine

Sticky air, blowing wild

Ebb and Tide

Taking my breath away, filling me back in

I feel the humidity,

The stickiness, on my skin

Clinging, like those memories,

A howling sea

The stinging pain

Where my heart lies

Where my chest rises and falls

As my lungs inflate and deflate

The waves come at me

Streaming, steaming, stabbing, screaming

Pushing me under, raising me high above

As I strive to swim across, failing and succeeding

Those memories

I close my eyes, my dreams, to the endless sea

The motion still vivid, ebbs and tides

The tears behind my lids

"Men rise and fall like the winter wheat"

And as these seas are my witnesses

I have risen as I have fallen

Incinerated

Squeeze my heart, turning into stone

Leave your burning handprint on my chest

The glowing fire incinerating me from within

I’m combusting into flames

You said you will protect me

Love me and cherish me

You asked me to open up

To start loving again

I know I’m sinful

Always angry, always loud

Disgraceful at times

But you accepted me, faulty and foul

You said you will be there

You said you will stand by me

You said and you said

And at a point, I chose to believe

I said it once, I’m saying it again

You’re a man, you’ll love and you’ll love

And you’ll destroy whatever left.

It's the simple truths that men lie 

My bones are liquefying

My eyes are turning white

My breath is snatched violently from my lungs

I’m losing myself to the devouring pain

My eyes are now chocking on their burning tears

Red lava rivers

I’m suffocating, grabbing at my throat for air, 

Dry and cracking

I’m retreating to the road I initially chose

The path I said I ought to take

Riding alone with my arts and rhythms

Finding solace in the misty mountain’s rocks

Let the cold wash over me

Hailing me down with biting snow

Maybe it will be more gentle on me

Saving me from my burning soul

Satan’s Blood (Demons of The Night XII)

Soft, sleek, black, silky strands of hair

Falling down his forehead

Covering his neck line

Contemplating his clear, fair skin

Wide almond eyes, black as night

Long lashes, thick

Lining their outline in precision

Glistening under the pale lights

Small nose, 

Rosy lips

A face carved in perfection

Most beautiful

A curse swarming beneath his skin

Dark poison 

Black ink streaming in his veins

Drawing vicious hollowness 

“You’re born to breed, 

My line should proceed, 

My blood should be cleansed, 

A ritual you can’t evade”

The poison spread

Bad blood,

Calling for new blood, new life

A new flesh, an infestation

His heartbeats raced with mine

Empathy more than love

Love stronger than empathy

An inhuman attraction; bestiality 

Our eyes locked on each other

We’re seeing through one other

Our hearts slamming against their cages vigorously

As our bodies clasped so tight

THE RITUAL SHALL NOW BEGIN

I lost myself to his misery

He lost himself in my purity

More passionately than poisonously

More poisonously than cursed

More cursed than blindingly dark

Darker than any force that would tear us apart

It’s warmer than any of us has ever felt

All the coldness seeping out of our bones

The ice that has racked our souls

Slowly melting in disclosure

More passionately than poisonously

More tenderly than stiffly

More yearningly than lustfully

More intimately than forcibly

The storm we wreaked is now going dormant

We reached deep depths beyond getting lost

More lost than we can ever be saved

More saved that we can never be lost

A new child is born

The circle will be going on

We broke the lurking evil

Only to have it reforged

The guilt will be inscribed in our every breath 

As much as this moment can’t reced in memory

A bond is moulded, love is founded

Only to be diminished with a new enchantment

A new ritual will be called upon

New innocent life, gone

Blood for blood and life for life 

A Satan will always rise

Waking Up the Dead

It all came back to me, crushing me with exasperating nostalgia. If it was the right thing to do, it surely doesn’t feel like it. Apparently I wanted to do that; I wanted to do it for so long that now I can’t even remember why I wanted to do it. It hurts so much. He was once a friend; a great friend even with all the drama, the nagging, and all the things that I hated about him. He was also my fix, my own OD, and I was addicted to his substance abuse. It went so bad in the past, me being so nagging, he being so broken and overwhelmed, me falling in love with his friend and nearly getting engaged to him. It was flooding us all; we were drowning under our incomprehension of our own desires and needs. The consummation was eating at us, slowly, happily, and quietly that we didn’t even realize it until it was too late. It was too late that all of our bonds were broken, all of our bridges burned down. I was on one side of the mountain, while they were on the other side of the valley, so far apart that we couldn't even see one another, feel one another, or understand what we were going through. Such desperate separation acted like a poison burning through the veins of our relationship. It was dying and failing rapidly and horribly. The antidote was unknown at the time, and remains unknown to this day. Trying to clear waters, after more than a year of torturing silence, feels like digging out the dead corpse of our lost relationship and trying to do CPR, even though CPR attempts have failed before calling out the time of death. It doesn’t even stop here. In desperation, I don’t stop at the CPR failure, I try to force life into the cold dead by all means possible that I am now creating Frankenstein’s monster. Now I am doing as Frankenstein did, he was so excited towards the results of his experiments that he has forgotten what the consequences might be, creating an overwhelming creature that is so lost in emotional turmoil and fragments of past lives of two or more people who are long dead and gone. Same inputs and givens, being examined through the same scope and used in the same way, give the same result. If it went any further than what it has gone already, if any further attempts were made to try firing life through our death, I will be creating the monster that Frankenstein was so scared of and the fire of this alleged spark of life will back fire at us all. It will devour all of what we had left of good memories, whether fading or vivid with colors and scents. Some relationships are better left dead, with no resolution or reconciliation. Don’t bring out the dead if it has already been gone for so long that now its life will be more disrupting and destructive than the beauty it had during its lifetime. 

If Darkness Comes

Stars crossed

Failed linearity

A hope lost, for unity

Perishing dreams

In difficulties

Desperation

A full moon’s light breaks through

Echoing in the black sky

Dimming our dispirited half-moons 

Guided by the wise full moon,

Our stars perfectly align

Forming a distinct constellation

A perfect sun rises

As our consumed suns burn out

Life commences

As our separation end

Lighting up our new world

If you lose your path to me

If you lose faith along the way

Look for our sun at day,

For our moon if night prevails

You will find me waiting for you

Hiding in the sun

If darkness comes

Colbie Caillat_When The Darkness Comes

In Another World

In another world 
A one we seek everyday
The sun will shine on both you and me
Shining on our dormant dreams
Saving us from falling off the brink

We’re standing so tall
Fighting so hard
With no reason to hide
No reason to be scared
No demons creeping
No fears kicking in

It’s a colorful plane
A bright horizon
Of happy aroura colors
Of happy thoughts and warm love

We have each other
We got our backs
We are standing together till the end

It is another world
A one we see everyday
Deep down in our hearts
We know we'll reach it someday
Breaking through the ails
Through the chuckles and the chains
The sun will shine again 
For both, you and me

Westlife_Another World

Vampiric Instinct

Bump, 

Bump, 

Bump, 

Bump.

Captivating Blue

Enclosing Vibrant Red

The veins are pulsing

Calling out for me

To sink my teeth in

My gums hurt badly

My fangs make way forcibly

I can hear the beats

I run my thumb against the protruding veins

Euphoria

A tickling pain

I lose control

My teeth cut through the tender skin

I can’t resist the temptation;

A vampiric instinct

My fingers bend and stretch

I can hear the pulses growing fiercer

As I suck out the streaming flow

My hunger grows stronger

My desire intensifies

As the blood continues to run through me

The frail body collapses

No pulse, no sound, no red, no blue

No life

My fangs still clutched to the stream-less veins 

My heart is pounding with anger

I can’t let go

I slowly loosen my grip;

Getting up on my feet

I am standing alone

I see my cold, motionless corpse 

Carried away by the current of the Red Sea

Surrounded by a horizon of Blue Fire

With waves splashing violently at the shore's Black Sand

The flesh melts

The arteries explode

I witnessed a lifeless life feed on what could've been hope

To My Late Grand Ma

A year is almost gone

Your voice has faded

Your shadow has disappeared

Your smile stopped hovering

Over my late night dreams

I missed your fights with me

And when we sat together

When you would ask about the same thing for the gazillion time

And I respond with the same answer

Each and every time

You don’t show up in my face anymore

Your memory is fading crucially, slowly

At times, I remember what you would have done

What you would have said in situations

I miss our fun together

And your very shy smile

I miss your voice in my ears

And me, so so angry that you’re calling out for me

I’m tired grandma, give me a freaking break

I miss it all you know

I wish if you were still here

I have a photo of you in my clutch

I look at it whenever I open it

It is you, but it’s not like you

I miss your hug and your kiss

I miss brushing your silky hair as I bathe you

I miss that soap smell of yours after you take a bath

And how we fought over putting on your head scarf

For I always hated it

It’s our first Easter without you

I miss all the old Easters we had together

And your fight over eating eggs, you didn’t like it

Today, I sat at your place at the table

I saw you sitting were I did, you saw me and you smiled

I miss your smile more than anything

And the warm look in your eyes

Come back to me

Or ease the time till we meet together

I know you’re watching over me

So visit me in my dreams more often

And take me back to the start

Lucifer You

I once met Lucifer and he said

A man is a man, even when dead

He hurts and kills even when 

He's buried six feet under

I once met Lucifer and he said

A man is a corrupted descent

He lies and steals even when

He's entrapped in a wooden casket

He once met Lucifer and he knew

He is decaying down in his core

He’s an infestation of sin

Swarming out of his eyeballs

We all met Lucifer and we saw

We are Lucifer in disguise

Mirrors gleam and mirrors glow

With different frowns of despise

Stone Padded Green

Its beauty lies within the indecisiveness of its elements. I can’t decide if life is trying to reach out to it or if it is trying to desert it, leaving it in the middle with no closure. I was left once in the middle with no closure; left to dig out my way, my path, out of it all. These brown, dry branches hanging down, reaching to the stone building, seem to grow little leaflets. The building has this mystical mischief sense of grandness and dismay; a part of a grandeur that was taken away from it, when it was taken down from the fortress to which it was assigned to be part of. The maybe old, high-tower-chamber surrounded by these thick trees, a forest maybe, tickles my sense of danger, yet I feel tranquil.

It’s the green that’s crawling up these ancient stones like venomous vines, still padding the harsh edges of the paving rocks in the entrance of the circular edifice with softness; inviting me in, yet keeping me out. The stone fence surrounding the trees is keeping land and water intact; water to water and ground to ground, like ashes to ashes and dust to dust. It’s the deadly liveliness in this scene that bewilders me. The slight turbulence in this greenish water surrounding the only thing that stands up right seems so still, adding beauty to the curios composition.

It sounds like I’m describing me more than describing the scene; projecting my tired and restless soul on a deserted stone-cold tower chamber, cut off magnificence to swim down the static stream of life and desolation, seeking to reach a land that it can call home.

A stone of green padding at its feet

A grandeur stolen, yet clung to fiercely

A sense of impossibility

A soulless projection on a lively death

A contrast of black and white

Dark and light

Water encircling sharp edged rocks

Standing up straight between the twisted branches

Of brown decay

As little green life

Trying to escape them

It’s a gate, a hollow shape in the center

As dark as night

Fighting the mist pushing it down to the ground

As dark as night

Under the burning, rising sun

Quitting Anti-Social Social-Media

It’s the waiting! It feels nice not to be waiting for anything, or anyone! It’s hard, very hard, especially when you’re waiting for something that you don’t know.

Have you ever waited for something that you don’t know?

_I did!

And they ask me why I quit social media. Isn’t it obvious! I mean, do you really have to ask! It needs no asking to figure it out. Our lives are being sucked out; our marrows sucked out, cleaned off our bones! We’re growing hollow!

Is it by any means useful?

_NO! It is just not!

What is useful in being addicted to a certain page or a certain post. You are being trained to wait through the so called “social media”. It is anti-social! Think about it thoroughly; you consume your time, energy and health on waiting and writing and getting disappointed. You wait for people to respond to your post by reacting to it, commenting on it, sharing it, and so on. It is absolutely nonsensical while you can just call someone.

Why did people stop calling?

_Because texting became available.

Why did people stop writing or texting?

_Because voice notes on whats’app became available.

Why do we not meet each other anymore, as in real physical meetings, as in we get up, get dressed, wear makeup and bust our butts to a place where we are all going to see each other, feel each other, sympathize with one’s miseries and difficulties?

Why did it become that hard to know the answer to why did we stop communicating like real people do, not like phantom apparitions?

I’m done for waiting for him to inbox me, or for her to send me a link, or to be tagged in a group status. I’m done. It actually feels nice to be missed. It actually feels nice to feel important. It feels nice being asked about and accordingly you receive a call from people you thought wouldn’t even think of you or wouldn’t miss you but they did. I felt alive when one of the girls called me the other day, knowing that she never normally calls. NEVER! This time she did, there was no other way to check up on me but such and so she did! They will know that calling you is the way in which they can reach you, and so they will call. They will feel that you need them, as much as they need you. I need them more than they need me. I need to feel their empathy and love and warmness. Most importantly, it’s important to me to know who actually cares that he figures out that I’m no longer available and thus he would go looking for me, asking about me, and checking out if I’m still alive.

I am not alive

I am not dead

I am no phantom

I am no apparition

I am no human

I am no person

I am no definition

I am just a pile of emotions

I am a combination of feelings

I am a complex state of mind, a roaring turmoil

A Million Ways to Kill You

I have a million scenarios on my head on how I’d kill you

To see you lying dead, nothing rectifiable

I’m killing you silently, lustfully

It’s bloody, merciless

I’m forcing my fist down your throat

Cutting through your vocal cords

Ripping out your tongue and your trachea

I’m strangling you

I’m breathing your death

The smell of your blood is filling my lungs

I’m looking at your pictures with despair

I’m killing you in my head, in a million ways

I’m not satisfied

I’m dying with you every time you die

I’m plotting my devastation

In anger and infuriation

I kill you, mourn you, I triumph, and I weep

I loathe you, I long for you

In excruciating pain

I’m hanging by a thread

To the hope of one day we will meet

We will meet again

And our eyes will pierce each other

You’ll be looking at me and I’m through you

I’ll kill you in silence

I’ll kill you a thousand times per second

In a million ways

I’ll see the light gets sucked out of your sockets

I’ll stand over your wretched corpse

Breaking into pieces, falling onto my knees

Hysterically weeping
Bursting in laughter

Now I’m even less than satisfied

I’m killing you through my art

I’m killing you on paper

Immortalizing you in my eternity

My vivid memory

This is where the problem lies

I don’t really want you to die

I don’t hate you

Not even a bit, not even a little

Not even at all, not in a thousand life times

Dear February

Last year I wrote a letter to you, in which I expressed my need in sustaining my love relationship. It was the only time in which I really felt secured. It was the one love I really thought to be mine; the one love I really thought would last for eternity. I was happy, maybe even a little bit more than happy. On the 25^th of March, however, I discovered that it was all an illusion that my mind deceived me into believing. It was fake; the promises were fake, the love was fake, and the attitude was fake. Maybe it was my fault at a point and maybe I miss-chose the person with whom I am going to spend my life with, or was to be exact. Now with him gone, I do not know if it is a good or a bad thing for me. I cannot feel the flickers anymore. I do not get any butterflies anymore. I am unable to breathe the way I used to. This smile that was once drawn festively on my face, when I used to see his name on the phone, is all gone. This feeling that I used to get is not there with any other person.

I had a new love after my breakup with him. It was no way near love. I was null. I was way crushed to feel anything. I couldn’t believe a word I said. It is all about me now; a repetitive, dismal “I” that is very bewilderingly bewildering. I saw him everywhere I went. I dreamed of him sabotaging every kind of happiness I might ever have with this new person. I was chocking in this new relationship until it was over. For the first time in my life I was happy that a relation was over. I was ecstatic. It was like I hoped for it to end but I was too scared to end it because maybe it would have been the best thing that would ever happen to me after this diverged train of my emotions hit a concrete wall. I was suffocating and everything seemed impossible.

I am sorry; I know that I kept on talking and speaking about my mess. I know that I got so self-indulged like I did last year. Last year it was a similar case but now I am way done. This time was a wrecker. I do not want to feel any more wrecked or jeopardized. I do not want to feel naked like that. I want to feel safe again with a person, my person.

I am writing this year to save the habit of writing a letter to you every year. I do not want to feel alone and since you are “The Month of Love” I’m writing to you as a pen friend. You became my pen friend three years ago, when all of my turmoils started, and my heart started bouncing on a rod.

This year, my dearest February, I have a request. I am requesting an easy, comfortable mind, a loved lovable heart, and relaxation. I need those more than anything else. I need a new love that would mend all of my wounds and would help me stretch my broken wings and teach me not to be afraid of flying anymore. I need you to support me and to love me and not to leave me alone.

I know I made this message too long this time but this is only a portion of my heart that I poured here on paper. I wish if I was able to elaborate more on how I really feel but I am so tired to even think about what I am feeling. It consumed me too much that I am not aware of the person that I have become. Please feel free to write back to me and share whatever your heart tells you. I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours sincerely,

Rana

Bitter, Coffee, Love

I’m drinking a cup of coffee

Little sip by a little sip

I’m drowning in its bitterness

My cold love

My veins tickle

As my nerve cells shiver

When the caffeine kick in 

I don’t like it

My hands shake

My shoulders shrug

My head turn forcibly

And my legs stretch 

I’m sipping my coffee still

My bitterly tasteless coffee

I’ve never been its fan 

But here I am, drinking it

Just like my heart, bleeding

Over a love story that hasn’t lived long

I think I hate him

But my feelings for him are strong

It hurts me, it pains me

Yet I’m holding on

Just like I’m pouring in this cup of coldness

Dying on its after-taste of mud