To think I’m doing nothing but disintegrating, at this point, over something that has muscled me up, is capricious in the most futile sense. Shit happens, and nothing is ever going to stop it from adding anxiety in that repetitive restlessness under my blanket, and I accept that more truly than my own capabilities, but to be writhing like this makes me feel weak.

Hitherto, like the sun that burns the eyes after having strained those very agents the entire night brazen, all I want is to shut down. I have my support, I have my will power, and I have a brain that has to go on a self abort mission every time I pretend to grow myself.

Moisture begotten, I relapse

Once, twice, ninety eight times a day

Boiling tea helps not the senses consuming it

Currents paralyse those very hands

And the tea cup falls to aftershock

After all, it’s nothing but demise

Etched on every coin I’ve earned

I put bullocks behind turning it over

To witness a curiosity on my drug enticing me to

Blink twice at the newspaper thrown in the balcony

At six without fail

Because the usuals seem abrupt

Screaming galaxies drawn of charcoal

Light shown twenty minutes back, but I withhold now

And there’s hair fallen around my legs

A small frustration scarred above my right eyebrow

Volcanoes erupting in narrowed eyes

And i relapse six storeys below.

Ash burn

Two:thirty five on a tuesday noon sounds harmless

Breathes more drowsy, perturbed

And twenty nine seconds later the iced tea

shakes from a breathless grasp

Eyes open to dream in a shock

Which haunts day by day, night by night

I sit with a dread, fire erupting everywhere

I call you – unreachable – unattainable

But aren’t you always? I’ve learnt it

‘Fucking run, run afar’ the walls tell me

Beneath my finger nail is ash, cold, from the flicker

I keep it stored in a jar now, right next to my toothbrush

The slap comes harder at night when I think of it

The cigarette that slipped down the emergency exit

Went nowhere as far as she did

Throbbing it over me, first, as a sign of hallelujah

She sings, ‘Hallelujah’, she sings

I kept her in the covers of a bundle, a friend basking warmth

She cut it dry with the side of her teeth

And tore through me, if only I am willing to submit the power

But I have walls of lie to cement

And so I sing, ‘Hallelujah’, I sing