Running away.

I was running away. I was trying to escape from the bitterness of my own thoughts. To save myself from drowning inside the dark shadows inside my heart. I caught myself in a moment where I did not know if I belonged somewhere. If I was something, if I existed, if I mattered at all. I couldn’t reassure myself of the reality that was so unfortunately vague. And then came a point, when I realized that I was running away from the person I was becoming. I was running away from the monsters that danced in sorrow. From the demons that trapped the soul inside me. I was running. I still am.

As real as it could be.

There was nothing poetic about our love.
It started in the middle of nowhere
like a dream,
and ended when I thought it was gonna be forever.
It was not all shine and glee
 or a merry blanket of roses
to walk on, nor did it awaken the fire inside me.
Our love was more like a long journey
in the ocean without having to look at the sky,
a journey where we didn’t know where we were heading,
a journey when it didn’t really matter. It was just
what it was, and it was so damn beautiful.

What they don’t tell you.

The world has a weird way of telling you about things. They don’t tell how comforting the dark can be. They don’t tell you that there’s nothing wrong about being alone. The world overpowers a companion and often overlooks the joy of being your own friend. They talk about the light but will seldom tell you that there is no light without the dark. Silence doesn’t signify weakness but it is an infinite collection of tranquillity that you need to absorb. Maybe, loneliness is not a negative thing. It’s more like standing naked in front of the mirror and wondering what went wrong and what’s so damn right. Maybe you need this time with yourself. It’s okay. You need someone, and that’s you, yourself. You’re not falling. You’re just waking up. 


At night
I feel like a prey of my own thoughts
Like everything is coming down
To hunt me
Like being pushed to the ground
And being eaten selfishly
Destroyed into million pieces of sorrow
Each part of my soul
Every dream I am about dream
Everything comes down
To absolutely nothing
Everything seems to fade and I become a person I don’t know
What are these nights I ponder at times
Maybe they are the most honest of all.