Never has it been done before
Ever has it been a problem for yu
Forever this black dot u left on my heart
Not clever of yuu to **** my life this way..#awaronmymind

you're supposed to nourish me
instead, I only despise
that head and gut disagree
sitting behind a plate of lies
she bows her head and cries
I envy you, enjoyer of food
from the ashes she will rise?
my perspective, chronically skewed
everyone, easy to delude
the beast inside growls for help
to change the way her grub is viewed
crimson slashes, a silent yelp
sustenance, quick to be sick
slip into the stall and snick, snick, snick...

If only some words were air,
          I would have breathed in all.
                         Inhale the lines into my lungs
And see how it heals the wounds
                That was forgotten in a mighty storm.
     If only some words were air,
Living this life would have been
                                    like seeing the sunset,
Like how suddenly winter remembers summer
                                          And like how I once fell in love.

What was the time when we started the evolution of ourselves ?
What was the time set when the first clock was built ?
Past is only an abyss overcomed ,
Passed and been through with our minds physically and mentally
And future a chasm to be magnetized into and dragged down in ; working and going so hand in hand that like writing this piece of verse being the present is being my future as well
The window of transition from present to future being so narrow it actually overlaps one another in ways
So thoughtful and ineffable
The present being me writing these lines and the future being the outcome the whole verse which is now in process while I write this
Only a thin line of perspective and time difference or backlog occurs between them
Keeping the both distinguished from
each other letting them mean what they truly attribute for
There are three abstracts working simultaneously -the past present and future
The cognition of the brain undergoing a change in every single milli - seconds ; a transition from its current state of mind , carrying the neural data of the past nostalgia into the future
Those 3 abstracts                                               Playing its game of mutation and novelty over mind and body ...
While in all this the soul is the one feeling the time .....

Harboring suspicions from blinded eyes,



Acid gurgles under sugary lies.



The stranger swaying dementedly to and fro,



On rocking chair thoughts, their mind on show.



How should you react when a dagger is drawn,



Neutral, or reveal a suspicion is born.



Eyeing the ranks of human heads,



Thoughts emerging from crumpled beds.



As you cannot see the source of the shot in the dark,



So you only hear the tune of the singing lark.



Consipiracy theories, click codes on the mouse,



As the snake coils into the empty house.



In an unreal life, nothing recognised,



A stranger lies, looking into a stranger’s eyes.



Steadily repeated stabs of deceptions,



From foundations, of fallacious conceptions.



Locked in a make believe play of doubt,



Interrogate the evidence, turn inside out.



Within delusory ink and pens that bite.



Making sulphuric phrases into tools of spite.



Elvis on the radio confirming your thought,



Suspicion in a tormented trap you are caught.



Eliminate subject and object, unravel the day



Anchor to a certainty and then drift away



For it has always been and will always be so,



A blind thought will return to the house of shadow.

Look for happiness outside...
And you'll burn your fingers.

Look within and you'll realize...
You'll never have to look anywhere else.