Faded

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there is a poem
inside my bones,
wriggling
to let go…
the metaphors
plays a master plot,
in water coloring the secrets
on my skin;

I feel the waves
crashing inside my ribcage
as I search
the direction where your footprints faded

for eons
I held my breath
and now that you cut off the string;
I was let go
like an untied balloon.

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Clouds.

black and white clouds dark dark clouds
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a shift-
in the isometric projection
of yet another cloudy morning;
alerted me,
from sipping too many
caffeinated melancholy.

I,
in the backyard of another
unwanted lyric,
forgotten in the aftermath
of too many saturated sunrise drinks;
watched mesmerizingly,
the puffy smokes
braiding with each other-
to form a masterpiece
in the canvas
of everything mundane and bleak.

the cryptic calenture
of my ecstasy
was shoved out through the window
like used tissues,

but my imaginations
soared into galaxies;
and for a minute
I was convinced
that my Lord above was entertaining me.

blackened blankness

lighted candle
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glass floor
crack as I waltz with the moonbeams
singing songs of
broken wings and fire

the age of growing up
receded, leaving me breathless
with no dreams

barren, I
wake up with charcoal stains on my face
and run-down crimson welts

a pretty distraught sight
to greet morning to

yet,
the morning song
remains the same,

with punctured lyrics
and dismantled refrains

a song
too lethargic to wake
me up

Depths

blue blur color dark
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for the longer minutes
of holding my breath in,
the images swirl past like tornado

the burn in lungs,
fogging senses
and the deep state of fear
surpassing all.

the feeling of cloistered thoughts,
repeatedly bashing
and the purged memories,
resurfacing with a vengeance-
the dip feels eternal
and the bathtub
a bottomless ocean

my fingers find a pulse
in the depth of tangled veins,
beating faintly
like a drowning poetry
taking its last swig of burning air

the time slows down
to a point where the brain hears the tick
loudly enough to trigger a migraine,
the cluster behind the eye
painfully dragging pointers
of how worthless and shameful I am

the truth
holding its agenda like a banner
to my face
of how… insignificant my life
is in existence

the years on my span
mockingly, whispering my wrinkles
are the failed attempt of me
trying to pick myself up

I feel like the silence
is poisoning me
yet, the light from somewhere afar,
urge me to remain strong

but, the pull towards abyss is stronger
than the push of myself to wake up,
just to breathe…

everything around
just dulls and greys
and I am just
mindlessly tiring myself out by sighing too loudly

Implode (NaPoMo 10)

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peaceful,
mournful;

the day sleeps on her shoulder
as she skins
chapters of the night,
into cracked mason jars.

I watch her-
breaking inside;

as her memories blink.

Valorous (NaPoMo 8)

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scars vested deep in
the clefts of my nightmares-
burn relentlessly;

too dim,

to illuminate
the dungeon
I am chained to.

yet,
the shadows
flicker
boldly in shades of blood-
pumped from within
my ribcage of promises.

I am
left not to rot,
with the drips
magnanimously-
lifting me from
self-perversion.