Late Twenties

In my late twenties,
Between sad six
And sorrow seven,
Between essential eight
And noble nine,
I immersed myself in
An ocean of feelings,
I performed a somersault,
And I hit my head,
Slipped out of rhythm,
On indestructible rocks,
Then in a surreal coma,
Later, a patient marathon,
Survival of the fittest,
And I will always win,
Because here I am,
Still in my twenties.

It was You She Hanged, Remember!

Needles keep striking your chest,
The place where you remember,
Beautiful memories like red roses,
But then the thorns bleed you dry,
And you stop. You retreat. You –
Forget about her, all of her,
You have unmasked this being,
So, move on and forget that hug,
Forget that smile and that dance,
The songs and the infinite poetry,
All you need to do is remember,
Remember her twisted words,
Making you feel guilty every time,
Shackled and imprisoned in her world,
Each step thinking twice or ten times,
Until you stop talking to everyone,
Relationships cut, deleted, stabbed,
And with her incessant hisses:
Your own self she enslaved,
Your close friends she drowned,
And at last, it was you that she hanged,
Remember?!

My Resuscitation

Even when I pop the boiling bubbles,
Floating over my blood,
Bomb blasting it into bits and pieces,
Blood bathing this ashen heart,
Ice-filled buckets were added, stirred,
As if preparing a refreshing lemonade,
Yet, the heart aches into thunderous screams,
And as soon as I start to forget,
The heavens drop storms and devise nightmares,
Nullifying the colourful floral dreams,
Dreams once filled with glittering unicorns,
Unicorns galloping freely through rainbows,
Rainbows so magical mystically spreading
Smiles on my straightened lips,
And now I bloom,
Evolve into a butterfly, and indeed,
I have awoken from that darker-than-black abyss,
I am now my own therapist,
Voicing powerful rainbow smiles,
And getting ready for my resuscitation.

She is not Strong

She is not strong, she is a weaponised destruction,
Think not of false prophets, but of me reincarnated,
Falter if you must be, or shelter beyond this universe,
The simple truth is just simple, strength beyond beauty,
Before one is eliminated, stand ground and raise above.

No, she is not strong, she is a weaponised destruction,
One that is always replaced, a rather used spare part,
Once blown to bits, evidently a catastrophic entity,
Such a lady is unneeded, your services are denied,
Listen to my reincarnation, think not of false prophets.

Unlocking My Screams

I am searching for a key,
One that can release me,
From unwanted thoughts,
Hammering my pure mind,
Onto the walls of agony,
Nails piercing the heart,
From all directions,
Leaving no room for confessions,
Or even a moment of solitude,
The solace of serene souls
Driven away as I bleed out,
But the key will guide me,
To wield heavenly whispers,
Forged in ancient constellations,
And if I were to reignite my diminishing smiles,
Then I need to unlock the screams of my soul,
I am fighting my way out of this,
With warm beats of young drums,
With melodious bangs of Eminem,
And even if volcanic eruptions were
Loud and fierce,
Damaging and deadly,
And even if earthly quakes were
Trembling and traumatic,
Thunderous and wild,
And even if oceanic tsunamis were
Humongous and crushing,
Treacherous and drowning,
I know I will crawl my way out of this,
Because I know I will never be alone.

The Black Widow

What will you do when you have been –
Captured by a Black Widow,
Believing that she’s your Queen,
Living happily in her silky strings,
Except they are devouring you – ever – so – slowly,
And when you wake up from this magical dream:
(where your heart screams so loud
That you forget to listen to those close to you,
Those that cared for your angelic smile,
Those who will still await your return patiently)
And then you start to struggle your way out,
Not sure whether it is too late or not,
But you do it nonetheless,
To taste freedom once more,
And to her, you are but a useless pawn,
Trapped in her game –
Suddenly, one string snaps,
That is your remedy,
So you continue cutting all your connections with her,
And with each snap she furiously fits uncontrollably,
Because picturing you dissing her royalty is unbearable,
And you finally escape!
So what now?
Will you return to her throne and burn it down?
Or move on to find another royalty?
Or will you forge yourself into a throne-less King?