Hi.
Hey.
Hello? Is anyone there?
Umm..
Is this kematian?
Saya mati?
No.
This isn't,
And you aren't.
Where am I?
Why!
Why is this happening to me!?
What have I ever done to deserve this?
Oh lord!
Stop being dramatic.
Stop overreacting to such,
A trivial inconvenience.
It's time you understood.
That if life isn't a series,
Of inconveniences,
Then what is it?
But. What?
I feel scared. Can't I feel like that?
Am I not allowed to express my dismay?
Or will you just let wither and fray,
Away my incorrigible self.
Can you,
Whoever you are.
Just leave me alone.
And stop with the whole,
Life is this, Life is that,
Bullshit.
I want to be left.
To myself.
To my own heathen.
To my own hurt.
To my own pain.
Wow.
They told me you were,
Well...,
Your own worst enemy.
I did not believe what people said.
But now.
With your unmutilated disgust,
Infront of my eyes.
I see the ugly.
The treacherous fiend.
That tempest of a soul,
Which is shouting at a pitch,
That your deaf brain can't hear.
But your heart can.
I see what they saw.
And I feel nothing but sorrow.
The beauty was just outside,
And not even completely.
You can't accept what you are.
How will others?
You can't accept your heart.
How will others?
You can't accept the hell,
That you created for your self.
How will others?
You chose a life.
Now own up to it.
No one held a gun to your head.
You did what,
You wanted.
AND NOW HERE YOU SIT.
TALKING TO ME
ONCE AGAIN,
AT THE BRINK OF YOUR SOUL.
ACTING HELPLESS.
ACTING STRANGE.
LIVE UP TO THE SHIT YOU DID.
...
Kya krun mein?
Mera dil kuch chahta hai.
Mera dimaag kuch aur.
Lafso se bayaan kaise krun,
Mera dard.
Mera dukh.
Depression has become a recurring term.
Not that I know how it feels.
Nor do I suffer from it.
It just seems the best way to describe,
The sudden emptiness,
Futility,
That I have felt.
I laugh. A lot.
I cry. Rarely.
And yet I am sad.
What. Do. I. Feel?
I have anything but a clue .
And here I sit writing,
As though I am well versed.
In my own ,
Ardour of nowt.
And I laugh while I attempt,
This egregious chapter.
I like wasting your time now,
I adore panegyrizing your visit.
I wonder how many will come back,
To read,
From a book,
With a terrible name.
With direful chapters,
Written by an insipid,
Prosaic poet.
This was quite banal.
I
Sure
Do
Hope
You
Enjoyed
Bye now.
Come again.
It was nice to ruin your day,
Telling you about my,
Samey self.
If I was the reader,
I'd just eschew from ,
Clicking on this grotty book again .
~Love, CRosOver
:)
YOU ARE READING
The Psyche Of Mine
Poetry**** I've never really known how to move, where to see or what to feel.. But sometimes, I have moved enough to be alive, I have seen enough to not go blind, And I have felt words enough to feel.. **** **** Its my first time properly penning down m...
