chronically unhappy

chronically unhappy

words lingered 

long after every memory blurred

perhaps i really am

chronically unhappy

a little too cold, a little too restless

a little too little for the room i grew in

tried to stand tall but never quite met

the height requirement 

to deserve the acknowledgment 

tried to climb but there was always

another mountain beyond the mountains

another name above mine

another sky i was meant to reach

until i grew tired, tired of chasing 

and then, i was labelled

chronically unhappy

with a heart taught to measure 

every tiny triumph, every fleeting joy 

against the very next thing that it lacked

always someone ahead, somewhere better

some impossible height i was expected to reach

so i continue to climb, chronically unhappily 

mistaking exhaustion for ambition

mistaking silence for strength,

enduring another belittling stare

still i wake with hope

waiting for that day

not for applause or validation

not even to finally be enough

only for the quiet possibility 

that perhaps one day

the world will cease to feel like 

something that i have to outrun

someday when i realise

i was never chronically unhappy

only chronically trying to be

someone worthy enough 

to deserve happiness.

 a dangerous thought

brushed past my mind

what if, for once 

I were the poem?

destiny smiled,

fate grinned

and now my life 

spun into poetry

my heart a fluttering metaphor

something I didn't ever wish for

my mind a stanza 

that refuses to end

all the broken pieces 

waiting to be mend

my emotions bleed

through my eyes on the crisp white 

on which without pause, I write

now the poem is my life

and my life is the poem

traumatizing to read

excruciatingly painful to live

hard to comprehend 

so here I surrender 

and ask for forgiveness 

I beg for revision

make my life a simple prose

honest soft sweet smelling rose

dare to pluck, get pricked by the thorn 

for I am weary of being torn

erase the excess

spare the beauty of suffering 

all I ask for is an ending

where all my sorrows run out of breath

today i succumb to the storm, i am numb

my receptors long scarred,

immune to the lashings,

immune to the endless echoes 

of demeaning words.

i am not hurt

not anymore.

the pain has dulled itself into silence,

and not a lesson left to carve into me.

the impoliteness,

the disregard,

the refusal to see me as a living pulse

all of it has withered into nothingness.

and so,

i question myself with every faltering step,

each doubt a thorn lodged deeper.

i know that time could never heal this and

that tomorrow carries no dawn,

only the same grey shroud.

then what am I reaching for?

what future is there to cling to?

a promise of more poison,

more venom whispered into my ears,

the same refrain of how useless I am,

how potential was never mine

as if I were born hollow.

 lying on the floor of the balcony

i close my eyes reminiscing about

the moment when you 

held my hand for the first time,

the chills, the butterflies,

you pulled me close to you,

and i stared into your intoxicating eyes,

just then, chilly air breezed through my face, 

and i opened my eyes to see the enchanting moonlit sky,

i yearn for your warm hands to caress me

with love, and tell me it will all be okay,

maybe it was a fantasy,

moonlight often does that to me.

 I'm shaking, and my hands tremble,

With fear

My thoughts assemble-

How will I ever get there?

Will I even belong?

I desperately seek an escape route

Tired of this pursuit

But then I remember-

Promises were made, 

Blood sweat and tears, I'm afraid

What is this journey when will it end?

Will I work my way up?

When will I stop this game of pretend?

I tell myself it's okay to feel,

But this weakness in my knees,

it’s forcing me to kneel.

I wonder how am I ever going to heal? 

I suppress my emotions and run in this race

For I have to show my face

To the world, to everyone who expects

Here's to forever living in this complex

While waiting for the race to end,

 I continue to pretend

 I smile and I laugh 

but my tears too,

they need a vent.

I write today after an eternity

Hoping to find my identity.

(not today)

Sometimes when you’re living but you’re not really hopeful or expectant or that you just don’t want to continue to breathe. Sometimes you are just living. Sometimes you do things that may indicate (falsely) that it was expected of you to live one more day or the rest of your apparently busy and bright life. But unfortunately that is just a misconception. I fear that misconception. I fear leaving one thing or the other for the next day and I do not know if anybody is ever thankful for this procrastination, but I think that some people will be, after reading this because this procrastination prevents one from killing oneself and lets one live with all what one feels for one more day or the rest of one’s life. Living is challenging and so is dying. But the most challenging thing is to swing. The most challenging thing is to choose. For living you already are, you are breathing and eating and smiling and living, but what is it like to be dead? To be or not to be is the question. It’s hard to seek the answer, for this question is not just one. It is a series of questions that lead you into a tunnel from bright to dark, from light to night, it has doors and you have to choose which one to get into but you don’t know the path they lead to, you can only know by walking through it. There may be a way back but one might not be able to find it if one has gone too far.The brain is a huge space. Follow the light while you still can, for darkness will eat you up and you will end up in a drab place.

beautiful however

don’t want to be 

close to you

don’t want to see

what you see

don’t want to stay
in this place,
full of uncertainty 

just want to go away

far, far away

into the blue sea

where the winds blow

wherever I want them to be

where I want to go

wherever the waves take me

knowing it’ll be

beautiful however.

scarred mind
crooked thoughts
dying inside
patience rots

say it all
speak out loud
hush stop
don’t burst your cloud

pour your heart
in this lullaby
sing me to sleep
while you sit back and cry

and hurt and bleed
I’ll wake up the morrow 
beaming with ecstasy
while you still die in sorrow

no hope for tomorrow
no will for today
pleading with Him to
send you away.

I do not know.

-excerpt from a letter that I'll never send

I do not know why am I writing this when I can say anything directly to your face, when I can share how I truly feel without any hesitation, when I can share my pain or what's inside my brain without even thinking about it, or can I?
 I do not know.

ice cold world

eerie cold outside 

barren and wide

spicules of ice

first may entice

then make bleed

'til you plead 

cry in despair

chilly biting air

dear vagabond

don't go beyond 

it's an everlasting feud

cruel and shrewd 

springs never bloom

warmth has no room

stay in here

vagabond dear

beyond is hell

dead numbing well

it'll either make you weep

or lose sleep

it'll either make you regret

or never wake up instead.