I have questions for you- red herrings having evil eyes.
You drifted away when we spoke in emotions before,
My unspoken words lingered in your wake.
Let me quench this thirst of mine the way I know how,
Speaking what none will realise.
Why do I sacrifice for you?
You suck my energy out with your false pretences.
Fake pretend that you're hurt and bleeding.
I give you my soul for you appear hurt,
But only yesterday did I learn that
These wounds are not wounds but self-inflicted scars.
Why do I talk to you?
You whisper when I talk,
You talk when I scream,
You pretend to be deaf when I whisper and
Curse my mouth to stay zipped tight and
That too, with dangerous spite.
Why do I comfort you?
Master disguiser you are, so good you are at it that
I wasn't able to distinguish the difference between your scars and your wounds and
Being the self-sacrificial fool I am, I healed both and
Kissing them with medicinal love,
Wished, and often succeeded, absorbing the unrealistic pain.
Why do I listen to you?
You show me a three-headed dog with two fakes and
Say, I'm the ruler of the underworld,
Married to the goddess of spring but
The one I see is a minty devil dressed in a red wedding dress,
Claiming boldly for the beautiful flowers that do not grow inside of her.
Why do I endure you?
Tantrums that see no horizon and
Show of no pearls within black shiny oysters which
I carry with me in this gigantic bag slung across my back,
There are only a few on the beach but
The ocean keeps spewing out more, endlessly, and endlessly.
Why do I care for you?
You are the mercenary that thrusts swords through my back and
Begs for mercy upon being bested upon fair measures.
You are not an honourable warrior, you are not a hero,
You are the antagonist of my story and the gladiator of my pit.
Why do I go to you?
You shove me through this dark place like
A wandering hermit drifting on timberwood through this
Vast ocean of dark tinted liquid boiling me up.
The care for the burns on my skin, you show not.
Why do I trust you?
To have me in a gentle hold befitting of the vampire king,
When the thing clutching my shoulders is a succubus thrusting
Wooden stakes through my spirits
With legs chained and arms shackled like a slave.
Why do I believe you?
Yellow drops of sweet smell sizzled touching the floor.
Holy nectar isn't secreted by sinners but
Dangerous acid-laced lies are.
Your claims seldom uphold the absolute truth and
Your lies lie testament to my absolute facts.
Why do I think about you?
Human suffering is long and endless but reason to live is one;
Hope which dusts the dusty and fools the foolish.
I chase the UFO's in the skies that warp me to greener grasses and
Forgetful I am, for facts, you cannot twist.
Why do I write about you?
A liver grown on lies only eats alike.
Reality for the illusioned does not exist and
I, with no better, no worse,
Lead the liver's life the way I learned thus
My lack of intelligible rehearse.
Why am I happy with you?
Mindful peace for irritated souls,
Justifies existence of faith for
Bickering with otherworldly patrons
Does not suit unrested spirits and
It is a crime I am charged- at unrest.
Why do I love you?
Smile, laugh, entertain, and deceive,
I might.
Frown, cry, depress, and enlighten,
I do not.
Masks only let me lie to others.
I question a lot.
enough to drive me mad,
for
love a phantom,
I cannot.
YOU ARE READING
Rhythms From a Quarter Life
PoetryI will die the very moment this poetry collection is complete, not a moment more, not a moment less. Yet, what worries me is not death but never being able to complete this poetry collection. These are the rhythms resonating from a quarter-life.
