I wonder what i did wrong. nothing. maybe. maybe i am wrong. just wrong as a person. Everytime i acknowledge myself, a rush of hate hits me, despair. Selfish rotten person. She saved me, her hand on my head, the cold, cold knife staring at me from underneath the blanket. Oh maybe that was suppose to be my end. Why did i back out? Cowardice? Could be. Vices seem to be innate in me. The cold knife promising relief, freedom, her warm hand providing it. No, this isnt a case of lesbians. Its infact a case of unconditional love, realised only when hatred is mocking me. I wish i had ended it then. Lured by the warm hands, seeking the promise of their comfort always. Death. My freedom. Maybe it isnt too late. Cold knife waiting. Call out to the warm touch. Empty.

they wait...

i want to write. i cannot, i just cannot. i cannot do anything. my body refuses to move. static. stiff fingers. pain. every action, every word, every thought hurts. its killing me. i cry. seek help. silently. it wont come, i know. but i wait. wait, silently, patiently. killing everything that's alive, slowly, silently. it leaves me, gradually. the process is fulfilling, interesting. its interesting to see yourself decaying, rotting. i smile, it reaches my dead eyes, vanishes; in a flash, like everything else. i cant stay anymore, i HAVE to leave. they are calling me, oh so loud, i can hear them, screaming, whispering. i have to go. they are pulling me, i dont want to go. hold me, please, dont let go. but i have to, need to. they want me there, need me there. they pull me away, it feels nice. to be dead.

dedicated to... me

I feel ugly. I feel the ugliness crawling up my legs, spreading slowly, gradually, engulfing me, suffocating me. Hate myself, i hate the incessant desire to keep everyone around me happy. A temporary feeling of bliss, that doesnt even depend on me, my actions, my thoughts, nothing! Its all them. Its all me. Blame Game. Who gets blamed. I. Who blames me? I do. Utterly stupid. Pangs of guilt. Guilt that could kill me. I drown in the pool of guilt and self pity. Its funny. She is a part of me. The part of me, that i love, with all that i have and more. It isnt fair. I dont see a reason to let go. She makes me happy. She makes me believe in myself. She makes me, me. I wont let go. I refuse to. I am not wrong. She is a friend. My friend. My companion. My wall. She is my strength and my weakness. Lets just be us. Lets just do what we truely want to. The right thing. For once, let go of everything that affects you. Make yourself happy. I didnt know true happiness untill sometime back, she is one of the people who makes it worth it. The feeling of bliss will not be forced to fade, it shall stay, for as long as it wants. I need to decide. I need to be, Me. The one i love, the one am proud of. The me, thats hidden, crawled up, running from the ugliness. I am tired of hiding. I crave to be let out. Imprisoned my self. Its time to set the imprisoned beautiful self free. I should kill myself in an instant, rather than dying everyday, every minute, every second. Withering away in a corner, in a dark, lonely corner. I let go...

Red wine... smoke... me...

The tall slender frame, beautiful bends, it stood, alone, content. Fingers intertwined, holding on, protecting it. White, ghostly white, it holds on, the red, blood red liquid flowing, still. Picturesque. Amidst the absence of skin and bones, pure soul, flowing. The slight opening inhales death, life. Its peaceful, for a while. Then it happens, the unexpected, the obvious. I laugh, uncontrollably, violent tears fall. Its over, before it started. I dance, every movement defying emotion. Emotionless. Oh this is heaven. Take me. I raise my arms, outstretched arms, veins bulging out, blood static. I fall to the floor. Cold hard floor. Warmth. Warmth never felt before. Comforting. Satisfying. The shattered frame lies, content. The smoke blowing away. Higher higher higher. I sink to the ground. Lower lower lower... engulfed in warmth, smoke, blood red liquid choking me.

incomplete...

He asked her to stop. she was everything he hated.everything he wanted. kohl smeared eyes revealing everything he should know, nothing that he wanted to. its terrifying being introduced to your own inadequacies. frightening to accept them.she was a mere spectator. silent. obdurate. he shut himself. red room. windowless. lifeless. cried to himself.kaivalya. distant. but wait, i need to live, i want to live, i want to....

words seeking freedom...

thoughts.dirt.words crying begging pleading for freedom.thoughts pushing their way out.jumbled ideas, complex emotions intermingled.unaware.we all wait. for a miracle?freedom?am here to impress.hate knows no limits.exciting.self inflicted pain.relief.unhealed wounds.ecstacy.i cry.unheard cries.escapism.freedom i seek.unknown plane.how does it matter? i run, stumble, fall, crawl, reach.dead.next step.free, free, freedom i seek.death i plead.funny.lets end it.now.stop.

thank you

just realised, i felt better after writing in here. firmly believe in thanking everything that helps in cutting negativity. the feeling of disgust has subsided. therefore thank you, to whoever is listening.