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Sometimes, I just get tired of what I am. Tired of the same words, same syllables that come back to me again and again; blatant, unashamed.The sultry swamp of life drags
me back into the cobwebs of my dilapidated existence.Sometimes, I wish I could disappear from here because this slow putrefaction is hard to bear. The everyday disappointments melancholia, the little things that put me off.  The millions of things I pretend to be.

I search for myself beneath the veneers of the freckle laden flesh that camouflages me. I search for myself amidst the myriad of bodies jostling in a crowd, making noises that encroaches into the mindly solitude and numbs me till I hear the echo of a deathly silence. Sometimes, silence cajoles my body into an irrevocable state of paralysis. I let the feeling sink deep down, deeper until I can
count every breath leaving the lungs and feel every little speck of happiness ebbing away with the chillyDecember wind.


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Death Comes Closer

When the passion in my veins
becomes the poison in my blood
and death comes closer by a step
I will not shrivel in sudden fear
or dissolve into a mist of a pitiable plight
For even when I die
My words will illuminate lives with it's
perennial light.

A Nobody

The way your eyes smirk at my existence
and heavy breaths sublime under hallucinating lights
The rifts of your wet lips, abhorrent and unawaiting
On mine sometimes, sometimes gone
A lover's sigh, and poet's respite,


The splash of aquamarine to my gloomy canvases.


I was a virgin canvas
your lips couldn't stain

I had waterfalls inside my chest
your eyes couldn't contain

I ached in places
your hands couldn't touch

I spoke of autumns
words couldn't adorn much

So what you loved that beauty spot
on the edge of my waist,
Alongside thrived a freckle
you had already abandoned in haste.