tears on my scars.

my dreams.

I close my eyes to sleep
To escape reality
But still it seeps
And comes alive in my dreams.

I turn my head around
I wanna get those demons out
But everytime I stand astound
When I realise that I'm the one who is bound.

I bury my head inside the pillow
I don't wanna live this life like a willow
My liver dies and I turn yellow
Whenever the liquor kicks in saying “hello”.

I have finally learned to make friends with the dark
My sleep paralysis is no more a thing for analysis
For I have untrue wishes
And my mind is a slave to its demons.

I cry when I feel sad
I feel pretty when I look bad
I don't get mad
Unlike my dad.

I might get a degree of graduation
In hallucinations
My schizophrenia just makes it a lot more better
It helps in making my bed sheets wetter.

I wanna burn those records
Those thoughts that recur
All of the vices and the curse
Make my sound frequency above a hundred thousand hertz.

I still see blurred in the city lights
There's not a single night when I didn't cry
My rotting intestines
Know my appetite.

Those swollen and twisted fingers
They're not firm and fixed, they linger
My hands like to hinder
And stop me from solving the riddle.

There's a competition for the highest bidder
Their money differs
But all of them are scary enough
To cut off my nerves.

I try to open my eyes
And break my dreams
But once I close my eyes again
They are once again creeping in my brain.

The graphite on my fingers
Knows the degenerate eerie figures
All of those sketches are hidden
In the poetry that's written.

They are coming to break the enamel off my teeth once again
They can never be tamed
They only wash away when it rains
My mental sanity has been raped.

Sometimes death means safety
This life is nothing but a scrutiny
By the divine gods
And the gallant military.

They make me eat my own flesh
There are leeches on my dress
The wounds and bites are still fresh
My soul has been stolen in a theft.

My nails have been plucked out
They bite on me like bloodhounds
I don't feel my feet on the ground
I can't hear my heartbeat’s sound.

My waldosia remains uncured and undiagnosed
It's not mine, it's their loss
Put my period blood on my lips like a lip gloss
I drink all of it, including the clotts.

About to throw up
I fall
Deep into the void
As I come back to real life.