BROKEN

Rage is a cunning trait. Plays dead almost all the time till you poke and disturb it. It's like a phoenix waiting for some flames to raise it from slumber.

Nothing stays forever, the only thing that feels and sounds like a constant is change. Take a deep breath and let's dive into the deep. We hear the iceberg is a floating mountain.Bag your curious minds and let's see how far it goes 

Stayed in the hallway with you all. nothing told me that I was in the right spot of execution like some Julius Caesar. Trusted you with everything I had. held your hands for guidance through the mist. Little did I know you had other plans scripted within your palms.

 I spent my days perfecting my illusions thinking that this world was a projection of some wishes granted or some illusions and thoughts up there in our heads. Little did I know that it was all nothing but layers of mistakes, misery and pain. Sick situations that keep you up all night and a dangerous infection called love.

They say sweet faces and cute smiles make you melt from the inside. Well guess what, I think they irritate me in some way or the other. Not all scars are visible, not all wounds need stitches and bandages to patch them up. I leak from within like a broken vessel. Every single drop of joy seeps away.

I've tried over and over again to turn that frown into something better but I can't . My new leaf has more holes and brown patches than the previous one. My chest is tight, my back aches. I tried carrying the weights of the world and my insecurities together but I failed. Tried to be the certain beacon of hope but now, I've become nothing more but a piece of forgotten history. Every depiction of me comes out in grayscale. Life as a late bloomer has never been easy. I always struggled with some essentials growing up but, it's fine. my only regret is not grasping the concepts of "nothing ain't perfect"

In a bitter cold world where despair and uncertainty, I opened the gates to my delicate and I was shown how hard it feels when your heart is lacerated.

In the books of men, second chance are just a depiction of dumbness and a show of ones gluttony for pains. I didn't believe till the whip cracked twice and still the stench of denial would not keep them silent. Not even the fires of hell can make Caesar forget the wounds of his pal; the truth is out there and we all know it. Backstabbing whiles in the dark hurts because you can't prevent it. it's a different agony when your Judas flipped the switch and gave the knives out . In the end it doesn't really matter.

 in case you didn't know,

Everything Changes...

nothing stays forever

From dust to dust,

From Ashes to Ashes...

That's the summary of a million days in a single strand of words.

It is what it is; nothing can change that. We stare helplessly as our goals merrily glide over heads. They keep on soaking our souls in cocktails of lies and false hopes. We'll keep looking and boozing till it all comes down. 

husH